Poser (11 page)

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Authors: Cambria Hebert

Tags: #Hashtag

Chapter Thirteen

Ivy

We spent the night right there in the bed of his truck, curled under the blankets, beneath the glittering stars.

We woke up to the sun rising over the mountains, staining everything with a blush-pink shade. We stopped for lattes on the way back to campus and we rode in silence, but he held my hand. It was the best night we’d ever spent together—well, except for maybe the first night we came together during spring break.

Or the night he turned the dorm into the beach.

Braeden and I might not be perfect, but I felt closer to him than I had in a long time. Nothing could interrupt the glow of happiness inside me.

At least I thought.

Then the new semester started.

Classes resumed.

I was reminded there was life outside of the boutique, my friends, and Braeden. It was a part of life I had to allow.

After all, summer couldn’t last forever.

I made it the whole first week without seeing Missy. Actually, I almost made it two. But near the end of the second week, my luck ran out.

Of course, I knew she was around. Her stupid Buzzfeed notifications hit my phone several times a day. I thought about deleting the stupid app and not following her at all.

But a girl had to be prepared.

I’d rather see her hate coming at me than walk around campus and hear snickers only to wonder if they were about me.

Her notifications weren’t so frequent during the summer, but as the start of the semester neared, she started up again. It was almost like she wanted to remind people of the #BuzzBoss so she would have the same kind of “cult” following during the New Year that she had before.

I just didn’t understand it. As more time passed, I was afraid I never would. How could she? How could she do so many terrible things to the people who called her friend?

She was the worst kind of poser there was.

At least with Zach, you knew he was an asshole. But with Missy? She pretended to like you. She pretended to be your friend.

I saw now it was only a ploy to get gossip for her stupid feed.

I stepped out of the building, grateful my final class for the day was over. I glanced down at the letter that had been given to me by my professor. It was from the school. The pressure to declare a major was officially on. I needed to do it like right now. So said the entire staff of Alpha U. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t graduate at the end of next year. I needed time to fulfill the credits focused on my field of study.

Too bad I had no idea what that was going to be.

I opened the flap of my crossbody and stuffed the paper inside. I’d deal with it later.

A group of kids (probably freshman) came blasting right by me like they were being chased, and I had to swerve to avoid being taken out. When I looked up again,
she
was standing not so far away, her gaze locked on me.

I gave her a frigid look, one I hoped would tell her in no uncertain terms where I wanted her to go. I tossed my head so my hair would flip behind me, a total mean girl move, but I didn’t care. She deserved a lot more than a nasty hair flip.

I yanked my eyes away, not letting them linger. I wanted her to know she wasn’t worth the effort. I passed beneath a large black iron clock sitting near the sidewalk, with several benches around it. It had a lot of character, with a lantern-style shape at the top, a large white and black face on it that had yellowed slightly with time. The base tapered down into a thick black pole that sank directly into the ground.

It was still early afternoon, but I had stuff I wanted to do before my shift later at the boutique, so I was anxious to get off campus.

“Ivy.” The familiar voice made my shoulders tighten.
Ugh!
Didn’t she get the memo? I didn’t want to talk to her.

“I’m busy,” I said and kept moving.

“You don’t have five minutes for your old best friend?”

I stopped and pivoted on the heel of my leather short boot. “Old,” I emphasized. “As in no longer friends. If we ever actually were.”

She was dressed in a pair of dark skinny jeans, silver flats, and a gray slouchy boyfriend sweater I saw online at Victoria’s Secret. Her hair was still looking cute in the lob style. Today she had one side pinned pack behind her ear while the other waved around her perfectly made-up face.

“I honestly thought you’d have a lot to say to me. I didn’t expect you to just cut me off,” she said as she approached me, closing the distance between us and stopping right in front of me.

“Last time I tried to talk, you slammed out of the room faster than a cat being given a bath.”

“You weren’t talking to me,” she said, the look on her face pinched and kinda dark. “You were talking to him, feeding him a line of bull just so you could wrap him further around your finger.”

Oh. My. God.

She was still jealous. It was totally killing her that Braeden was in love with me. Last semester, the thought would have killed me. I would have done anything not to hurt Missy, but not anymore.

Yeah, I hurt Missy. But it wasn’t intentional. What she did to me? That was totally thought out.

I snorted, not caring a bit that I sounded like Rimmel. There were a lot worse people I could be like.

For example, the one I was looking at.

“Clearly, my version of that day is a lot different than yours, Miss,” I said, wincing a little when the nickname I used slipped so easily off my tongue. “I have no words left for you.”

“Not even a why?” She lifted her chin in challenge.

Sadness overcame me all of a sudden. It seemed like she cared about explaining herself a lot more than I did. Didn’t she understand? “Sure, I’ve wondered why you did it lots of times. Why you stabbed me in the back. Why you hurt Rimmel—”

Missy rolled her eyes dramatically. “Please. I helped her. I practically made her a campus celebrity.”

I shook my head. How I never sensed this side of her I would never understand. It made me feel like maybe I was a lousy friend because I hadn’t known her as well as I thought.

Nope.

Stop.

Don’t do it to yourself.

Missy’s psycho behavior was
not
my fault. Not even a little. She and she alone was responsible for the shattering of our group.

“I might have wondered why,” I began, meeting her eyes and staring at her directly. “But in the end, no reason you could give would ever be enough for me to forgive you.”

Hurt flashed across her features. “You act like you’re the only one who got hurt.”

“No.” I refused. “I know I’m not.” This conversation was totally bringing me down. “I have to go.” I moved away.

“This conversation isn’t over,” she called behind me.

I turned around, still walking backward away from her. “Just put it on the Buzzfeed. It’s what you do best.”

That shut her up.

Could it be?
I thought sarcastically as I turned away and headed toward the parking lot.
Could my forgiveness not be as important as keeping her true identity a secret?

I laughed out loud. It was a sardonic, amused sound. I felt a few stares turn my way. I didn’t care. I was too busy being shocked and, okay, maybe slightly hurt.

I should have known by now to expect this of Missy. Shouldn’t I? After all, I learned the truth about who she was deep down last semester. Still, this small part of me remained shocked every time she did something to prove it all over again.

When I first saw that flash of hurt in her eyes, the way she seemed to genuinely want to talk to me today, I thought maybe it was sincere. That maybe the girl I’d spent so much time with the past few years really was in there somewhere.

But the more she talked, the more I realized Missy was still angry at me for becoming involved with Braeden. She was like a professional grudge holder.

It only served to remind me that her hurt and anger gave her motive. Motive to hurt me all over again.

My phone buzzed, and I pulled it out and looked down.

My steps faltered. She took my advice and put up a new notification. I knew exactly who she was talking about. She was trying to goad me, to get a reaction.

It wasn’t going to work.

If she thinks I’m fake, she should take a long look in the mirror.

I planned to stay as far away from Missy as I could get.

Chapter Fourteen

Braeden

Football was in full swing.

The Wolves were holding their own so far this season, and morale was high amongst the team. I’d never say it out loud, but I wondered how camaraderie and even performance would fare with the absence of our leader Romeo. The new quarterback wasn’t really new; he’d always been on the team. He just never got to play because Rome did. He wasn’t a bad guy or a bad player. He definitely wasn’t as good, but he still played well enough.

A couple of the guys remarked that maybe the new quarterback wouldn’t be doing as well if I hadn’t been there all the time to stop the other team from rushing him and taking him down. I was aggressive and a lot more ruthless this season, or so they said.

In my opinion, I was always aggressive, but maybe I was just a little more ruthless. Football was a good outlet for all the shit I felt and couldn’t express otherwise.

It was after a game, and all of us were sweaty and sore. I was stripping off my gear when the coach passed by and patted me on the shoulder. “You’ve been playing hard, Walker. It looks good on you.”

“Thanks, Coach.” I grunted and turned back to my stuff. He meant it as a compliment, but for some reason, it didn’t feel like one.

I glanced in the small mirror hanging inside my locker and studied my face. It seemed like an insult that aggression looked good on me. Hell, I knew I wore it, but I tried to hide it. I thought I was the only one who saw my father when I looked into the mirror.

Did everyone else see him too?

Sure, they would have no idea who they were seeing, as I still technically looked like me. They’d never seen my father before, but I had. His face was branded in my mind. More and more, I saw him when I looked at myself.

More and more, I felt like a poser.

Pretending to be a good guy when who I really was deep down was the guy Coach saw on the field. I was the guy my teammates were starting to refer to as The Incredible Hulk.

After I showered off the residue of the game, I fished around my bag for some clothes. Everyone was going to Screamerz tonight to celebrate the successful start of the season. It was the first time since the semester started that we were all hanging out together.

After tonight, our traditional bonfires out in the field would be an every weekend thing.

I couldn’t say I was especially looking forward to them this year, and it wasn’t because Rome wasn’t here.

It was because of what happened at the last one I went to.

The one where Ivy was almost gang raped.

Just thinking about it made adrenaline and hatred spike into my chest. I hadn’t seen any of those guys since that night, which led me to believe maybe they went to a different school, but if I did see them, The Incredible Hulk would be out in seconds flat.

The party scene had always been my jam. And then I got serious with a girl. My priorities shifted, and I realized the party scene I loved so much was dangerous for a girl like mine. It was all too easy to look at her and assume she’d be willing.

I used to not think so much about the double standard women faced that guys were exempt from. Hell, if I were honest, I’d sometimes enjoyed it.

But now?

Now it made me want to smash faces.

As if on cue, a face I’d like to smash dropped a shoulder against the locker beside mine and regarded me like he had something to say.

I never had a problem with Trent.

Hell, I liked the guy.

Until he left my girl alone at the edge of the woods at a party.

Until he walked away without any thought to her safety.

Now he was on my shit list, along with Missy, Zach, and my father.

The list was filling up…

There were some bad bitches in this town.

“You got something to say?” I asked, shoving my dirty shit in my duffle. I’d left my shirt at home. All I had to wear to the club was my jeans. Guess that meant I needed to get my ass in gear so I could swing by the house and get one.

“Thought maybe you might,” Trent said.

I abandoned my bag and straightened. “Nope.”

“I thought we were friends,” he said.

“Guess you thought wrong.”

Trent straightened from the locker, his body becoming rigid like he expected a fight but wasn’t going to back down. I had to admit I respected that.

And it only served to piss me off more. A guy like him should have known better.

“This about Ivy?” he said, his voice deepening. “Because I asked her out?”

I laughed.

He bristled further. “That a joke to you?”

“No, it’s just ridiculous. I admit it made me crazy as hell to watch you sniffing all around her last semester, but that was a long time ago. She’s with me. I know how to keep my girl happy.”

“So what? You don’t want us to be friends?”

I wiped a hand over my face. “If Ivy wants to be friends with you, then its cool with me. But don’t think I won’t keep an eye on you.”

An angry looked crossed his face. “You make no fucking sense,” he growled. “I get its kinda part of your charm, all smiles and high-fives off the field and then morphing into a giant green monster on field, but you’re giving me goddamn whiplash.”

“Put on a seatbelt and get the fuck out of my way,” I growled back.

“I’ve been putting up with your frosty attitude and barely concealed pissy-ness at me since training camp. I haven’t complained. But I’m tired of it. We got lots of games left this season. Parties and shit on top of it all. The Wolfpack is family. I gave you the respect of coming to you. The least you could do is give me the same in return.”

He was right.

He’d been loyal even when I gave him reason not to be.

I slammed my locker shut and looked him in the eye. “You just left her there,” I said.

“Who? Ivy?”

It made me mad he had no clue what he’d done. How anyone could be so careless with her was beyond me.

You used to be the same way,
a voice inside me whispered.

Fuck.

“That night at the bonfire, the send-off for Rome?”

He nodded. “I don’t remember much of that night. I got shit-faced.”

“You remember talking to Ivy?”

“Sure, that was before I got wasted.” Then he grimaced and looked at me quickly. Yeah, I knew what that meant. He got so wasted because she told him she wanted me, not him.

“You left her at the edge of the woods, away from the crowd, man,” I explained. “By herself.”

His eyes widened. “Did something happen to her?” His arms went rigid at his sides and his fists clenched like it was something he wouldn’t allow.

“Almost.” Some of the anger I felt toward Trent was draining away.

Okay, all of it. Clearly, the guy hadn’t meant any harm. I was being an ass.

“Four guys jumped her from the edge of the trees. They towed her back into the darkness. They were drunk as hell and wanted to have a sample of the campus slut,” I spat.

Trent reared back like I’d buried my fist in his face. The look of absolute horror in his eyes got rid of whatever residual harsh feelings I had toward him. “Oh fuck.”

“If I hadn’t seen from across the field, she’d have been raped. Repeatedly.”

“You stopped them? She didn’t get hurt?” He was genuinely worried.

“I beat the shit out of every single one of them.”

“Who were they?” he demanded. “That kind of scum shouldn’t be allowed to walk around campus.”

“Haven’t seen them since. I’m starting to think they don’t go here.”

“You see them, call me. It’d be a pleasure to help you kick their asses again.”

The side of my lip curled up in a smile. “Will do.”

“I guess I can understand why I always felt like you wanted to deck me.”

I sighed. “I might have overreacted.”

“I get it. Ivy’s worth it.”

I felt my eyes narrow. “You still got a thing for my girl?”

He met my stare. “No. But I still consider her a friend.”

Relaxing, I slid my jacket over my bare arms and picked up my bag. I was shocked Ivy wasn’t blowing up my phone, asking where I was.

“Look, I’m sorry I acted like a dick. I get a little… protective where Ivy’s concerned.”

Trent grinned. “It’s cool. Next time maybe just say something instead of making me sleep with one eye open.”

“Shit,” I cracked. “You’re a pansy ass.”

He laughed and held out his fist. “We cool?”

I bumped mine against his. “Yeah, we’re cool.”

“I’ll see you tonight at Screamerz?”

“Hells yeah.”

On my way out to the truck, I glanced around the lot. Ivy’s car wasn’t here. Usually, she waited for me. An ounce of worry tingled the back of my neck. I reminded myself she was a big girl and was probably fine.

Inside the cab, I found my phone and lit up the screen. I had a missed call and text.

Romeo is here. Going 2 house 2 get him. Meet there.

A grin cracked my face, and I fired up the engine. He slid into town early on the sly. Of course they didn’t wait. Rimmel probably threatened to run home in the dark if Ivy didn’t drive her there.

I tore out of the lot and down the road toward the house we all shared. It was going to be good to see Rome again. It had been a long time since we’d all been in the same room.

Tonight was gonna rule.

I didn’t slow down ‘til I pulled onto our street. The last thing we needed was the neighbors bitching about the way I drove. I stared ahead, though, scanning the driveway, expecting to see the Hellcat already out of the garage and ready to roll.

But it wasn’t the Cat I saw.

It was another car.

A familiar one.

Distaste curled my lip, and I forgot all about making sure the uppity bitches in the neighborhood didn’t have something to twitter about over coffee. My foot hit the gas and I sped up to the house.

People were standing outside on the walkway.

They were arguing.

I took one long look and my blood pressure went through the roof.

Aww, hells to the no.

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