Page 16 of Never His Girl
“No!” I shout. “You don’t get to say a damnthingto me. That’s not how things work in the real world. I know you’re used to stringing chicks along, having them pine over you no matter what fucked up thing you’ve done, but I’m not like them.”
I half expect an immediate rebuttal just to spite me, but he’s silent. Just goes to show how unpredictable he is, how hard his behavior is to pin down. Ugh … and here I go with the waterworks again. I hate myself for not being able to hold them in.
He’s staring while he wears this look I can’t place. His solid chest and shoulders rise slowly beneath his jersey and I focus there, where his heart should be. Only, I know there’s nothing in its place, but a cavern filled with darkness.
He opens his mouth to speak, but what comes out isn’t even a complete sentence.
“Damn, I—”
The words cut off there and he rubs a hand down his face, still keeping his gaze trained on the floor.
“Look at you,” I scoff. “The screwed up thing is, I think youknowyou went too far this time, but your pride won’t even let you admit it.”
Half a second later, he meets my gaze and I regret challenging him. There’s unexpected emotion swimming in his irises and I’m now more convinced than ever that he’s a great actor. Probably got a lot of practice over the years. It serves as a reminder that he can’t ever be trusted.
“You chased me down,” I snap. “Why? Didn’t get enough of humiliating me Saturday?”
“That wasn’t—”
His words trail off again and I’m sick of whatever this game is he’s playing.
“This is the last time you willeverspeak to me,” I assert, only managing to take a few steps away from him before he gets a firm grip on my arm. He’s not inflicting pain, but I can’t easily pull away when I try.
I don’t have it in me to face him, but standing shoulder-to-shoulder now, I catch his stare in my peripheral, filled with some feigned look of desperation.
“I know I fucked things up,” he admits with a low rasp. “But I’m trying to make it right.”
The statement rings inside my head and I can’t tell which I feel more—anger or disgust.
“Ohhh, okay. So, you want to make things right,” I say with an air of sarcasm. “Does this miraculous fix you’ve mentioned also make me being on academic probation go away?”
I glance over right as his brow tenses. “They threatened to kick you out?”
I laugh despite the tears streaming down my face.
“West, don’t you dare pretend that’s a surprise,” I scoff. “What’d you think would happen? They’ve only ever seen me as a poor kid from the south side, which means I’m expendable.”
I look him up and down and decide it’s disgust that’s ruling my feelings for him, but anger is still a close second.
“I didn’t realize they’d take things that far.”
“Hm. Well, now you know. So, congratulations. This is what you’ve wanted since I first walked through the school’s doors, right?”
His gaze lowers and he dishes out more of that false humility.
“I won’t make excuses for the shit I’ve done, but I can’t let you think what happened Saturday was intentional. I wouldn’t have done something like that.”
Another angry laugh leaves me. “Oh, yeah? So, you kicking me out wasn’t intentional?”
His jaw flexes like before and he winces hearing my question. “I wasn’t myself and—"
“Fuck you, West,” I say through gritted teeth. “I’m done with you and I’m done withyour bullshit.”
With one hard yank, I’m free from his grasp. Now that I’ve finally broken away, I can only guess he realizes the one good thing that’s come of all this for me.
I’m no longer weak for him.
I take a few steps away, but hearing Scarlet’s ringtone in my pocket, I halt. Mostly because it’s the middle of the day and shenevercalls during school.