Tyler moved from the corner of the couch, and I slid beside her as Gwen greeted me. “What are we watching?” I asked.
“Two words: Dylan O’Brien,” Gwen said through a sigh and a hand over her heart.
“Dylan?”
Gwen pointed in front of her just as a boy ran across the screen through two walls closing in on him.
“Ahh, gotcha.”
“Crushing on blokes you know you can’t have is so much easier than the real deal. They can’t hurt you,” she added casually with a shrug.
Tyler snorted a laugh. “They also can’t please you.”
“Eh, I always do a better job myself anyway,” Gwen confessed before pursing her lips with an added head jerk. Tyler threw her head back, unable to fight her laughter when two kids sitting on a bean bag in front of us snapped their heads around, hushing us. Gwen flipped them off and turned back to face me. “Speaking of getting hurt, how are you holding up?”
I curled into the couch and drifted my gaze back to the TV, buying time and wondering which incident she was talking about. Did she somehow know about the glass incident? My father? “What do you mean?”
“The whole Maddie and Ollie thing. Figured it’d crush you, no? Unless of course, you have someone else now.”
“I’m fine. A kiss doesn’t bother me.” Except that it did, but showing an inkling amount of weakness to anyone in this place puts a target on your back, and I already had enough people gunning for me. Still, you couldn’t show tears. You couldn’t show emotion. If people found out your weaknesses, your secrets, they have weapons to use against you. And Ollie is the one weapon that could destroy me.
Gwen shook her head, her large breasts peeking from her low-cut shirt moving like Jell-O. “I’m not talking about the kiss. I’m talking about Ollie banging her.” My heart plummeted to my stomach. My eyes slid to hers, and I had no control over my expression. “And if I have to hear one more time how he plays with her fanny like a bloody guitar, I swear I’m goi—
“Gwen!” Tyler screeched, head dipping away from Gwen and shoving her in the shoulder. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
Wordlessly, I’d managed to get back to my feet, and the rest of Tyler’s words blurred behind me as I made my way to the door.
After everything I’d been through over the last month, nothing hurt worse than finding out Ollie wasted no time sticking his dick into someone else. Not just anyone else, but Maddie of all people. Even with him keeping his distance, he still had the power to burn me. But this wasn’t the same burn we embraced before. This burn hurt like hell.
Each foot felt heavy as if tied down by cinder blocks as I trudged through the halls in hopes of coming in contact with him. The burn in my heart raced up my chest to my neck and behind my eyes. My head throbbed from holding in the rage and tears wanting to let go. I didn’t have a plan, or what I would say, all I knew was I had to see him to confront him. Had he stooped so low, only to ruin our future entirely?
When I reached my wing, another origami rose waiting outside my door only fueled my fury toward him. Swiping up the reminder he had left me, I marched toward his door and pounded until the door opened and Ollie stood on the other side with wide eyes and disheveled hair.
“Mia?”
The burn spread to all my senses—behind my eyes, in my nose, to the back of my throat, and ultimately ringing in my ears. I slapped the rose against his bare tattooed chest with a shaking hand and kept my eyes locked on his as it fell to the floor. “You bastard,” I’d managed to say, and I wanted to hurt him and have him feel the same agony that brewed inside me.
“You know.” Those two words came out as a statement instead of a question, and he hung his head in defeat.
“It’s just me now. There is no you and I anymore. You and I were done the moment you quit fighting for us,” each word stained by a love I once knew, but seeped out with every ounce of strength I managed to gather.
Call me a hypocrite. Call me selfish. Go on and hate me.
The thing was, Ollie had known what I’d needed to get me to this place. He’d, somehow, known the very thing I’d needed to break down my walls was by him pushing and pushing me and never letting go.
And I knew exactly what Ollie needed this very moment.
The only way to get Ollie back was to give him the girl without emotion. The girl without feelings. The fucking sociopath—the girl he fought so hard for once upon a time.
“I didn’t mean those words at the vigil! I never stopped fighting!” Ollie’s voice grew louder, “Listen, I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry, but I’m fighting. Every day is a constant battle, but I’ve never given up. Despite everything I said, I’m not giving up … ”
Through Ollie’s plea, I managed to close my eyes and turn off the lights. It’s only temporary, I kept reminding myself. Only for a little while.
I mentally counted until the burn subsided and my heart maintained a steady rhythm.
Then I opened my eyes.
Ollie’s words ran together before they came to a complete stop.
He looked at me.
I crossed my arms over my chest and looked down at our feet. “Pick it up.”
“Mia?” Ollie’s chest heaved and he snapped his brows together.
“The rose,” I kicked the paper at our feet, “pick up the rose.”
Ollie hesitantly bent down and scooped up the rose before returning his eyes to me. His expression remained confused as he tried to read me. But I’d turned unreachable. Hollow. I’d figured it out, and he could no longer hurt me with my mask on.
I had done this for him. It was the only way to get through to him.
“Now tear it up.”
“No,” he whispered. “Don’t do this.”
“Tear it up, Ollie!” I screamed, and Ollie slammed his eyes shut. My tone dripped with anger and my body shook in its wake, but I kept the lights off in my eyes. I had to keep them off. Slowly, Ollie tore the rose up as each piece floated to our feet. Once the last piece landed on my boot, I snapped my eyes back to him. “Now, say you’re sorry.”
“Mia, please. You’re not making any sense.” He reached out to me, but I took a step back.
“You love the word so much, what’s the hold up now?”
He dropped his arms to the side. “I’m sorry!”
“Not to me, to the rose.”
Ollie dropped his chin and stretched his arms out to the side. “I’m fucking sorry,” he looked back up at me, “Better?”
I looked down; the rose still in pieces at our feet. With my foot, I kicked the pieces around. “Nope still broken. Looks like ‘sorry’ didn’t do shit. That’s me,”—I pointed to the pieces— “that’s my fucking heart, and your apology isn’t going to mend or heal your mistakes anymore. Your ‘sorry’ doesn’t piece back what you’ve broken. And this time, it was us you broke. For good.”
The realization hit him, and he dug both palms into his eyes as he took a step back. “Mia, you’re wrong about this. You’re so wrong … you don’t understand,” he fell to his knees, “I can fix this. I can fix us … we’re going to get through because we’re supposed to be together … ” Ollie continued to mumble through tears as he picked up the pieces at my feet. “I couldn’t go through with it. Nothing would let me … I’m going to make this right.”