That’s just today, too.
What’s going to happen tomorrow, or the next day, or the day after that?
“The longer I fight him, the more vindictive he’s going to get, Jen.”
Through my hazy vision, I see tears building in her eyes, too. “You can’t give up. You just can’t.”
What hurts the most? The thought that maybe I will have to scour colleges once more to see if they’ll take me. I spent most of what was supposed to be my senior year scouring the internet in search of a university with an on-campus daycare.
I tried online courses, and I just couldn’t hack it. Kudos to those who can sit in front of a computer screen for hours and study. I can’t. I need to be in a classroom full of my peers. I need to be surrounded by education, so I can get myself in the right headspace.
Doing homework with a toddler in your lap and a stained shirt tossed over your body won’t allow you to get the correct education you need. At least, not for me.
Hunter is slowly but surely ruining any chances I have of making something out of myself. No matter how strong I am, how long will I be able to fight without crushing under his opposing weight? How long can I go head-to-head with the golden boy of Golden Oaks before he squashes me under his heel like a pesky insect?
Sooner or later, even if I put one hundred percent into fighting him, Hunter will win.
Everyone may say this is giving up and cowering to my enemy. No, I call this self-preservation. And if I’m in Hunter’s sights now, I will continue to be when Maverick comes here. What excuse will I come up with then?
I was stupid to believe that Hunter would just leave things alone and live his life. He has a mean streak a mile long and holds grudges like a pit bull. This is just the first time I’ve been on the receiving end of his wrath, and I’m woman enough to admit I don’t like it one bit.
“What am I supposed to do?”
Jenna isn’t known for giving the best advice—at least she wasn’t in high school—but I’m hoping she’s grown a little since then because I could use some stellar guidance now.
She’s the only person I have to turn to. I can’t call my dad or Duncan. They’ll both tell me to pack up and leave, and that’s not something I can do. Not because I don’t want to give in, but because financially and assistance wise, it’d be a pretty dumb thing to do.
She’s silent a moment, searching through her thoughts. “Maybe find out why Hunter’s acting this way.”
My eyes round, and I jerk upright on the bed. “You want me to have a willing conversation with him?”
She’s close behind, shrugging as she sits up straight. “Wouldn’t hurt.”
“Wouldn’t help, either.”
Is she insane? A lot could go wrong with that situation. Not only would Hunter and I being in the same room pose a problem, but digging up the past will only further set one or both of us off. Our relationship with one another is beyond complicated. We’re both stuck in a deep, bottomless pool of hatred. Maybe a little bit of that is self-loathing as well.
“You don’t know that,” she argues.
“Unfortunately, I do. Nothing good will ever come out of Hunter and me being in the same room. That’s the very reason I have to switch to a different business ethics class now.”
She sheepishly smiles at me. “Found out he was in there, did you?”
Sliding to the end of the bed, I rub my face and weave my fingers through stands of wayward hair. “You could’ve warned me a little better than what you did.”
“I tried,” she says with a smirk. “You just wouldn’t listen.” She jumps up from the bed, I startle and stare up at her, watching as she watches me. “Anywho, I don’t know if it will make a bit of difference, but at least you won’t be the one to say you never tried to bury the hatchet.”
I shake my head sadly. Even after all this time, just knowing that Hunter hates me—even though he’s bullied me and treated me like shit—it still hurts. More so than anything he could ever do to me.
“He really hates me, Jen, and to be honest, I’m not too fond of him, either. I don’t even know why he’s still pissed after all this time. After the way he treated me, and still treats me,” I retort in an agonized breath.
“Don’t you think it’s time to find out?” she asks, a new light glimmering within her depths. “Now, get dressed.”
“Why?”
She smiles a grin that nearly blinds me. “We’re going to a party, and you’re either going to get your answers, or some jock is going to get a cup check.”
Leaning back on the couch, I lazily bring the beer to my lips and swallow a mouthful. Condensation slides down the bottle and onto my arm. It’s warm and disgusting, but I choke it down anyway because I need something—anything—to get me out of my own head. Liquor is too strong, considering what I have to do tomorrow. I don’t want to be laid up in bed for most of the day with a hangover.
Still, I don’t want to think anymore. The dull thrill of becoming numb is what I crave. Because if you’re numb, you’re not hurting.
“Sugar” by Maroon 5 blares off the walls of the house we’ve managed to rent for the year. Not the best out there, but it’s doable. Right on the edge of campus and easily accessible to anything close by. It’s a freshman’s dream come true. Getting out from under parental supervision, but not so far away the ‘rents can’t bail us out if we get into a bind.
Of course, my dad balks at anything with the word “rent” attached to it. He’s too uppity for his own good. But to each their own, I guess. The idea of renting has never bothered me. Regular people do it every day, so that means a Prince can for at least four years. No biggie.
Yet, that’s not what has my balls in a twist tonight. Nope. Not even close. What has my balls in a twist is the fact Harloe didn’t react to Easton’s presence in their apartment this afternoon. In the past, Harloe would have been all over him and raking his ass across the coals. According to Easton, with his long face and dim perception, she didn’t even bat an eyelash.
The fuck?
A warm body sidles up next to me. Being uninterested in pretty much anything, I don’t even turn my head to acknowledge them. Of course, that familiar buzzing I get whenever she’s around, as well as the tiniest hint of floral perfume mixed with fruity mixed drinks, tinge my nostrils.
“What do you want?” I sigh, finally bringing myself to peer in her direction.
Her doe eyes widen as she smiles. “Come dance with me, babe.”
Babe? I roll my eyes.
“Cassandra, you know I don’t dance.” Not anymore.
“If your hips move the same way they do when you’re fucking me, then you can dance,” she snarks, causing every cell in my body to cringe at her meaning.
When her body pushes closer to mine, and she presses her breasts into my arm, it takes everything inside me not to immediately push her away. Her touch just … doesn’t feel right anymore, and I don’t know why. But it’s pissing me off.
Cassandra, whether I like it or not, has been the only person who puts up with my bullshit. No one else will. I’m screwed if anything happens to this arrangement. But I’m not going to let her know that. Cass is known to get a big head when it comes to being with me for some reason.