“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”
“And even if she was, have you considered that you might deserve it?”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
She laughs. “Have you ever thought about all of the people you’ve hurt here, and wondered if you’re a massive piece of shit because of it?”
This girl. I swear to God, this girl. She has a fucking death wish. I push away from the wall, looming over her. “I don’t really give a shit about the people I’ve fucked with in the past, Little E.” I use Wren’s nickname for her in a mocking tone. “I don’t agonize over every single one of my actions because I’m hoping to win any popularity contests. I do whatever I like, and fuck what anyone else thinks. That includes you. I do not care what you think. Now back the fuck off.”
Elodie doesn’t budge an inch, which is kind of commendable, I guess. I go around her, heading to the doorway of the classroom, but the room is empty now. Not a student in sight. Only Professor Radley remains, rubbing a little wool brush over the spot on his tie. He sees me and his lips thin. “Mr. Davis. Something I can help you with?”
“Absolutely not.”
19
PAX
* * *
Wolf Hall’s a drafty, massive old bitch of a place with countless secret alcoves. There’s only so long a person can hide, however, before they need to go to class. Or go take a leak. Or buy food. I find her, tucked away in a corner of the dining hall, eating by herself. I slap my burrito down on the table and sit down on the chair opposite her. She pulls her tray toward her chest…and away from me. “Sorry. I—uh—” Delicate lines form between her eyebrows. “Are you all right?”
I lunge for her before she can draw back. Grabbing her by the forearm, I rip back the long sleeve of her sweater. There, just as I knew it would be, is a thin hospital-grade gauze dressing, covering her mending wrists. She hisses, ripping her arm free, hurriedly pulling the sweater sleeve down. “What the fuck are you doing?”
“No. What the fuck are you doing? You think this is funny or something?”
“I’m just trying to eat my lunch.”
“You transferred into Econ.”
“I did not!”
“You’re seriously trying to tell me that you’ve been in that class all along, and I was just so oblivious that I never noticed you?”
“YES!”
I shake my head. “Not true.”
Two tiny little red spots bloom on Chase’s cheeks. I can’t stop staring at them. “Why?” she hisses. “Why isn’t it true? Why is it so impossible to believe that we’ve been in the same class for so long? You’ve never noticed me before, Pax. I’m in nearly all of your classes. We’ve been living in close proximity of one another for almost four years and I can count on one hand how many times you’ve looked at me and acknowledged my existence.”
“That’s so fucking hyperbolic—”
“No! It’s not!” The pitch of her voice climbs higher. “Four years, Pax. Four years! We’ve eaten in this dining hall together. Walked the same hallways. Sat in the same classrooms. We’ve breathed the same air, for fuck’s sake, and you’ve hardly noticed my existence. So no, it’s not a hyperbolic statement. It’s the truth!”
“Jesus. Why are you so mad at me?”
Her eyes double in size. “Really?” She throws down the paper napkin she’s been holding onto her plate. “Are you fucking kidding me right now?”
The words Wren said to me in my bedroom echo back to me, making me feel…whoa. I actually feel a little uncomfortable right now. That hasn’t happened in, well…ever. I cant my head over to one side, arching an eyebrow at her. “Is this because I didn’t remember nearly fucking you in the forest? Because whiskey does really bad shit to my—”
“Oh my God, Pax! Just fucking leave me alone!” She rockets out of her chair so fast that the thing falls back and crashes to the floor with a loud bang. Every single student in the dining hall stops what they’re doing and spins around to look at her. And me.
Chase stands, rooted to the spot, breathing hard, her chest rising and falling. Looking up at her, I don’t see the quiet girl who was always hiding anymore. I don’t even see the blood splattered girl who tried to end her own life. I see something come to life. Something new, and fierce, and feral. Back this new version of Chase into a corner and she won’t curl up and die. She’ll claw your fucking face off.
I laugh softly under my breath.
Her hands ball into tight fists at her sides. “What?” she snaps.
I pick up my burrito and slowly stand. “What changed?”
Her jaw works, and works some more, her eyes flashing with tempered steel. She doesn’t ask me to expand on the question; she already knows what I’m referring to, and right now she’s figuring out if she wants to justify the question with an answer. Half of the students in the dining hall turn back to their meals and their conversations, likely bored. The other half remain glued to the situation, waiting with bated breath to see what comes of this tense Mexican stand-off.
After too long, Chase’s nostrils flare. “I was falling,” she said. “Always. I was falling, and the fear of it happening, while it was happening, crushed me.”
“And then?”
She looks me dead in the eye. “I hit rock bottom. There was nowhere else to fall.”
“So now you’re fearless.”
She shakes her head. “No. Now I just don’t care.”
I glare at her, riding out the storm of electricity snapping between us. “I take back what I said. I don’t want you coming to the house again.”
She gives me the strangest, blankest look. “You sure about that?”
“Yes, I’m sure. You’re a psycho. Why would I wanna screw someone who might hurl herself out of the bedroom window if I say I don’t wanna fuck her anymore? Better to nip this in the bud now. What would your friends say if they knew the truth? I’m assuming you still haven’t told them yet?”
Her face blanks out even harder. I think, no, I know I’ve struck a nerve with her. I see her detaching even further from the situation. I see the resolve she was speaking with just now falter and crack a little. I could absolutely scare this girl if I wanted to. I could make her care about the fall again and she knows it.
“You swore you wouldn’t say anything.”
“And I haven’t. Yet.”
With the fire dwindling in her eyes, she steps away from the table. “You’re the one who fucked me in the first place, Pax.”
She’s right. I was the one who provoked her into coming into my room. And I was the one who instigated sex between us. That doesn’t mean she gets to sass me like this. She doesn’t get to think she’s invincible, just because I resuscitated her and then stuck my dick in her afterwards. I flare my nostrils, eyes drilling into her as she backs away. “Do not fucking test me, Chase.”
20