Chase wets her lips with a sweep of her tongue, sparing me sideways glance. Once again it hits me—how different she is. How fucking transformed. This is who she’s always been, her personality hidden away beneath a cloak of anxiety. Now that cloak has been ripped from her, she’s finally here, unveiled and frankly fucking fascinating. I hate that. I absolutely hate the feeling of fascination that tugs at me, urging me to studier her closer. She—
“You're cool with H, right? Sometimes I like to lace my spliffs.”
I glare at her.
She smirks, taking another drag. Smoke plumes out of her mouth when she talks. “What? It's not like shooting it. It just deepens the buzz.”
“You're fucking kidding, right?”
“Yes.” The smirk becomes a grin. “I am. But you should see your face. You look like you're about to have a heart attack.”
Oh, ho ho ho. Not smart. “I was about to wrap my hands around your throat and throttle the living shit out of you,” I growl.
“Wow.” She spins the joint around and puts the end of it in my mouth, between my lips, instead of offering it for me to take. I accept it—no sense in wasting good weed—but a good part of me wants to flick it off into the rose bushes below, just to spite her. “That's pretty forward. Throttle me? You kissed me first—”
I stare at her in horror. “I didn’t kiss you first. You begged me to do you a favor!”
“You kissed me way before that.”
“What?”
“You did. Right before you nearly cracked my ribs.”
“Are you fucking insane? That wasn’t a kiss. That was mouth-to-mouth. You weren't breathing.”
“Tomato. Tomahhhto.” She exaggerates the difference between the pronunciations, trying to drive her erroneous point home. “You say mouth-to-mouth. I say first base. Let's call a spade a spade.”
I pull savagely on the joint and then send it flipping end over end into the flower beds below. Chase rests her chin on her fist, watching it disappear into the dark. “Of course. You’re one of those.” She sighs, and the sound of it is the tip of a feather running all the way down my bare spine. “A spoiled little brat who throws other people's toys.”
I narrow my eyes at her. “What the hell’s gotten into you? You were all uptight and pissy this afternoon. Now you’re giving me lip?”
She smiles a little loosely. “I don’t know. Maybe that’s not the first joint I’ve smoked this evening.”
“You’re baked, then.”
She shakes her head. “Just comfortable. I knew you’d show up eventually.”
“You did, huh?”
“You aren’t the type of guy who takes being stood up well.”
“Stood—” Holy shit, this girl is infuriating. How did I not know this about her? She doesn't seem even remotely annoyed by the fact that I just ditched her drugs. She smiles up at the night sky as if there's something interesting to observe there and not just a thick mantle of clouds. I crouch down, so that I'm hovering right beside her, and I blow the smoke I've been holding in my chest—there’s barely any of it left really—right into her face. It's supposed to be an insult, of course, but quick as lightning Chase grabs the back of my head and pulls me close, bringing her mouth so that it's an inch away from mine, and sucks the smoke into her lungs.
Clever bitch.
She stares right at me, smiling, then releases the back of my neck, shrugging as she blows out. “Next time you wanna shotgun me, give me some warning. A girl needs to prepare herself mentally if she's gonna be in such close quarters with the infamous Pax Davis.”
“Fuck you,” I snap. She really is high as fuck. She's playing with me, and she should know fucking better. She’s on very thin ice. If she were smart, she’d be placing her feet a little more carefully. “This isn't a social visit, Chase.”
Her eyes grow round, emphasizing the fact that her pupils are larger than they should be thanks to the weed. She feigns intrigue when she says, “No? What is it then?”
“I came here to explain the rules to you.”
She snorts. Actually snorts. “Rules. Hah! I’m not playing any game that requires rules with you, Pax. I’m just not. I don’t have time for that shit.”
Beneath my skin, my blood sizzles. “Don’t be catty, Firebrand. It doesn’t suit you. Let’s not be coy, either. We both know you’ve had a crush on me since the dawn of time. You can’t deny that you’ve mooned after me and followed me around for years.” The venom in my voice makes my throat burn. Chase’s beautiful little smirk fades away until it’s gone.
“Y’know. You’re right,” she murmurs. “I have had a crush on you since our very first day here. I spent years fawning over you and nursing an aching heart because I wanted you so bad. But my perspective on life has shifted pretty dramatically of late. I’m seeing the world in focus for the very first time. You are spiteful and you’re cruel, and you didn’t deserve a single second of my attention. Yeah, you’re hot. There’s no denying that, but you’re like…” She thinks. “You’re like the world’s most beautiful apple. Bright, and shiny, and glossy. Everyone wants to take a bite out of you. But the moment you break the surface of that appealing exterior, there’s only rot and decay inside. You’re foul, Pax Davis. The pretty, appealing façade is nowhere near enough to temper the bad taste you leave in people’s mouths.”
Holy.
Mother.
Of.
God.
This girl really does want to die. I already knew this—didn't I find her with her life spilling out of her wrists? But this blatant provocation really draws a line under her perverse wish to check out of her own existence. Is she wrong? Were any of the things she just said untrue? They were not. I am rotten to my core, and I’ve always known it. It’s an irrefutable fact. But for her to just come out and say it like that, to have the nerve to call me on my shit so simply, without trembling in fear? I don’t care if she’s high out of her mind. I won’t have it. I won’t let it stand.
Gently, I stroke the back of my fingers over her cheekbone, searching her face. “You don’t think you’d sink to your knees for me if I didn’t demand it? You don’t think you’d give yourself to me the second I told you to?”
Her eyelids shutter. At the base of her throat, I catch the flutter of her pulse there, quickening, betraying her. Still, she swallows, regaining herself, as she says, “I know that I wouldn’t.”
Lies, lies, lies. I hear the falseness in her unsteady voice. I smile, flashing my teeth at her—half victory, half threat. “You don't think I'm capable of making your life miserable, Chase?” I whisper.
I wait for her to quail. Only…she places her hand over my own, capturing it, then turns it over, holding my palm to her cheek “I'm sure you could try.” She leans into the contact, closing her eyes. “But that's the thing, Pax. When all a person has ever known is misery...it's what they come to expect. Soon, they feed on it, because it's the only sustenance they know. Eventually, their misery becomes their strength. They can endure so much more than anyone else. You'll be surprised by what I can endure now. And once the surprise has worn off, you'll see that you're powerless to hurt me. I told you the truth in the dining hall. There really is nothing left of me to hurt.” She opens her eyes, and the clarity of her irises cuts me deep. They're beautiful—the color of strong black tea and dark sage honey. I can't fucking look away.