Chapter 26 (1/2)

I wander back into the living room, and James snatches my phone from my hand. “Give me some of whatever you’re on!”

I’m quick to take it back before he can get a glance at the picture.

“Touchy, touchy,” James mocks me as I change the background. No need to fuel these fuckers.

“I invited Janine,” Mark says, sharing a laugh with James.

“I don’t know why you two are laughing.” I point to Mark. “She’s your sister.” Then I point at James. “And you fucked her, too.” Not like this is surprising; Mark’s sister is known for fucking every single one of her little brother’s friends.

“Fuck you, man!” James takes another hit from the bong and passes it to me.

Tessa would fucking kill me. She would be so disappointed; she doesn’t approve of me drinking, let alone smoking pot.

“Hit it or pass it,” Mark urges.

“If Janine is coming over, you’ll need it. She’s still hot as fuck,” James tells me, earning a glare from Mark and a laugh from me.

Hours pass this way, smoking, dwelling, drinking, dwelling, smoking, and before I know it, the place is full of people, including the girl in question.

Chapter thirteen

TESSA

I may not have much, but I still have a little pride, and I would rather face Hardin by myself and have this conversation one-on-one. I know exactly what he’s going to do. He’s going to tell me that I am too good for him and that he is no good for me. He’s going to say something hurtful, and I will try to convince him otherwise.

I know Kimberly must think I’m a fool for chasing after him after his cold dismissal, but I love him, and this is what you do when you love someone: you fight for him—you chase after him when you know he needs you. You help him fight the battle against himself, and you never give up on him, even when he gives up on himself.

“I’m fine. If I find him and you’re with me, he will feel cornered, and it will make things worse,” I tell Kimberly for the second time.

“Be careful, please. I don’t want to have to kill that kid, but, at this point, nothing is off the table.” She half smiles at me. “Wait, one more thing.” Kimberly raises a finger and rushes over to the coffee table in the center of the room. She digs through her purse and then waves me over to her.

Kimberly, being Kimberly, brushes a shiny, colorless gloss across my lips and hands me a tube of mascara. She grins. “You want to look your best, right?”