Authors: Diana Gardin
“You’re always interrupting something,” I muttered, heading toward the kitchen and living room.
“Yo,” Rob greeted me from the couch.
“”Sup?” I sat next to him and placed my bare feet on the coffee table we had replaced a couple of weeks ago.
“So Coach called this morning.” Drew hopped up onto a barstool and swiveled until he was facing us.
“And?”
“About shit going down last night. He said that the cupcake headed for our table was loaded with a firecracker, just like I thought. So there’s an investigation going on. They’re chalking it up to a prank, but the guy carrying the cupcake suffered some second-degree burns so he may want to press charges against whoever’s responsible. Coach just wanted us to know what happened.”
“Okay. So do you think they’ll find anything on Hannah?”
Rob stroked his chin. “I don’t know. She’s always been so clever and sneaky. My guess is that if she wanted to get away with this, she probably will.”
“Dammit! I can’t stand any more of this. What am I going to do about her?”
“Well, maybe Paige could press charges for harassment,” Drew suggested.
“Paige would never do that. She wants to handle this under the radar.”
“Yeah, but Hannah is upping her game. If Paige doesn’t do something, someone else is going to get hurt. And I’d hate to see Paige injured. I mean, if that cupcake had made it to our table last night…” he trailed off, but I knew what he was thinking.
“Yeah. Paige could have been a burn victim. Again.”
The thought sent my body temperature up about five degrees, and I knew my face was red with the heated anger rising inside of me. Paige being in danger was not okay.
I heard my bedroom door creak open, and then Paige padded down the hall in the same tee shirt and boxers she had on last night. No matter how many times I looked at her, her beauty always left me speechless and amped up my need to have my hands on her. She leaned against the counter, yawning. Her hair was mussed, her eyes still droopy with sleep. She looked adorable and sexy at the same time. I didn’t even know that was possible.
“Good morning,” she greeted us through her yawn. “What’s going on?”
Drew and Rob looked at each other and then at me.
“We were just talking about last night,” I answered.
I quickly filled her in on the details the coach had given us.
“So this is like, a criminal thing now?” she asked.
“It looks like it,” Rob answered. “But we don’t think Hannah will get caught.”
“Ugh. I just wish I’d never met her.” Paige hopped up onto a barstool and placed her chin in her hand.
“I thought I’d already lived through my worst nightmare. But having a girl want to hurt me all because of a guy is really coming in a close second.”
My heart cracked a little then. She had basically just questioned whether I was worth it. I knew I wasn’t, and it probably wouldn’t be long before she came to the same conclusion.
“I’m going to get some breakfast,” I announced. “Paige? What do you want?”
She shook her head dismally. “I think I’m just going to head back to my apartment. Gill will be worried about me.” She wandered back to my bedroom.
I followed, feeling a dark pool of fear puddle in the bottom of my stomach.
“You okay?” I asked her.
“Sure,” she answered. She stood on her tiptoes to kiss my cheek. “Can I have a ride home?”
“Of course you can. I don’t want you to go, though.” I ran a finger over the puckered skin on her cheek.
She closed her eyes for a moment. When she opened them, I saw puddles of moisture. She blinked quickly once, twice. The moisture was gone and I questioned whether I had ever really seen it.
“Paige--“ I began.
“I’m okay,” she said quickly. “It’s just…no one has ever hated me like this before. I have no idea how to deal with it. Look at me. Do I look like I can just go kick her ass? Make her stop tormenting me? I’m at a loss here, Clay. So I’m figuring things out. I’ll be alright.”
“You could let me help you figure things out. We’re in this together.”
“Yeah,” she said softly. “Only you didn’t end up crawling through the dark last night with a ripped dress, exposing yourself to the entire soccer team and their dates.”
I dropped my hand from her face and stared at her. The dagger in my heart was drawing a thin jagged line a little deeper, a little further in either direction.
“I’m ready to go home,” she said.
I sighed. “Let’s go.”
Paige
I knew I was hurting him, but my heart was so heavy with fear and anger I wasn’t able to stop feeling flat and black and cold long enough to reassure him that I loved him regardless of whatever stunt Hannah decided to pull next.
Because the truth was, I was scared. And I couldn’t help feeling like I wouldn’t have run headfirst into the battering ram that was Hannah Davis if I had never fallen in love with Clay. The fear fueled the natural instinct I had to run and hide from the connection I shared with Clay. Hadn’t I lost anyone I’d ever loved? Except for Gillian of course. Maybe I only got one exception.
We were silent as we drove, him holding my hand loosely over the center console of the SUV. When we pulled up to my apartment complex, he leaned over the center and held me. I let him.
“I love you,” he said fiercely into my neck. “I love you, Paige, and I promise we’ll get through this.”
“Clay…that’s not something you can promise. We’ve learned that when it comes to Hannah, I’m on my own. She can get to me with you sitting right next to me.”
“Not anymore,” he vowed.
I looked at him sadly. I felt low, the lowest I’d felt in a long time. Now he was making promises he couldn’t keep. Hannah was as crazy as they come, and lunatics like her didn’t rest. She was coming for me, whether Clay wanted to protect me or not. The fact he wanted to shield me probably made things worse.
“I’ll see you later,” I whispered, reaching for my door handle.
“Don’t go like this. Let’s make a plan for dinner tonight,” he pleaded.
“Text me.” I opened the door and climbed out of the car, closing it firmly behind me.
I didn’t look back as I headed up the sidewalk and entered my apartment.
Gillian intercepted my entrance. “Hey, chick,” she said. “How are you holding up?”
I walked right into her open arms and let the tears I’d been holding in with Clay roll down my cheeks. She just hugged me, not saying another word.
When I finished, I sniffled and rubbed the sleeve of Clay’s t-shirt across my leaking nose. I smelled Clay on the shirt, and it smelled like everything I had ever wanted. So why did it have to be tainted? Why couldn’t I just have him, without all the dangerous drama?
Didn’t God owe me that after taking away my whole family?
“Not great,” I admitted to Gill. “I’ve got to get a grip, but I can’t seem to forget the fact that there’s a girl out there who hates me so much she was willing to blow me up with a cupcake.”
“I want to cut the bitch,” Gillian hissed. “She has no idea who she’s messing with, Paige. You are not some battered, bruised little girl. You are tough. You are strong. And you have me.”
I cracked a watery smile. “And we have ice cream?”
“Oh, girl. It’s already out on the counter! I’ll get the spoons.”
So we sat on the couch and devoured Mint Chocolate Chip ice cream for breakfast. And ice cream for breakfast always makes everything a little rosier.
~**~
Clay texted me later that afternoon asking what I wanted to do for dinner. I told him I was just going to stay in and hang with Gillian and Tima, and it wasn’t a lie. The three of us ordered a pizza and drank cold beer, and it was all very plain and normal and fun. It was what I needed after Saturday night’s fiasco, and I knew seeing Clay right now would just remind me of that.
Later that night, after the pizza was long gone and I’d had one beer too many, I settled down in my bed for the night. I hadn’t realized how much sleeping with Clay for the past month had healed me. Having his long, warm body lying next to mine had fought away the demons my subconscious tried so hard to resurrect each night in my dreams.
I missed him. I pulled my phone off the nightstand.
Paige: What are you doing?
He replied almost immediately.
Clay: Lying in bed thinking about you.
It was the answer I wanted to read, but reading it made my chest ache. It was such a catch twenty-two. I wanted him with me; he made me better. Stronger. But having him with me made me think of Hannah, and she was the opposite of good for me. She was dangerous.
Paige: I’m thinking about you 2.
Clay: Then you should b here with me
.
Paige: I just can’t tonight, Clay. It’s not your fault. I just need a little time.
I toyed with my phone, turning it over and over in my hands as I stared at my window. Yellow light washed the walls of my room, light from the streetlamp just outside.
Clay: I love u. So I’ll give you whatever you want. Goodnight Paige.
I sighed, placed my phone on the nightstand, and turned over in my bed away from the window. I waited for sleep to find me, and as I waited I allowed the tears fighting to escape to roll silently down my cheeks.
Twenty-Nine
Paige
Monday morning dawned bright and cold, a sure sign that winter wasn’t far away. I showered and dressed warmly in jeans, fur Ugg boots, and a snug Henley sweater. I found Gillian in the kitchen sitting at the table with both hands enclosed around a mug of steaming mocha.
“’Morning,” she greeted me.
“Good morning yourself,” I answered. “I only have time for a to-go cup, I stayed in bed too long this morning. I didn’t want to get out from under my warm blanket.”
“Can’t blame ya, chick,” Gillian answered. “It’s freezing.”
She studied me. “I have a free morning. Do you want me to walk you to class?”
She was nonchalant, taking a sip of her coffee while waiting for me to answer.
“What are you really asking? If I want you to be my bodyguard?”
“Paige--“
“No, Gill. I don’t need a babysitter. I have class with Hannah. So what? She’s not going to stab me to death in a room full of people. I can deal with her myself. I don’t need my big sister Gill to shield me from the schoolyard bully anymore.”
Gillian huffed. “I want to help, Paige. I know you blew Clay off last night. And yeah, it was nice having you hang with us, but I knew where you really wanted to be. And he’s good for you. Don’t let Hannah ruin it. Let’s go to the Dean.”
I stuck my chin out, a habit I knew I had when I was feeling stubborn. “I want to handle this myself. I don’t want to go tattling to anyone. I’m in college, for Pete’s sake. I shouldn’t have to let anyone else fight my battles.”
“That’s not what you’d be--“
I silenced her with a swipe of my hand in the air. “I’m going to class. Love you, see you later.”
I grabbed my bag and stormed out.
I stopped by the Student Center to pick up a latte on my way to Theater Appreciation and then flew to my class building so I wouldn’t be late.
When I arrived, most of the seats were full except some front row desks, and I gratefully snagged one and sat down. It wasn’t lost on me that Hannah was present, and sitting in her usual spot in the back row with her pack of loyal bloodhounds.
I was already sorry about my tiff with Gillian; we never argued. I pulled out my phone and sent a quick text message telling her I appreciated her concern and I would consider her advice.
“Today,” the professor began. “We begin our study of great eighteenth-century playwrights.”
The entire class stifled a groan, but not very well.
As the professor began his fifty-minute lecture about history’s most boring plays in his monotone, my mind began to drift. I thought about what Clay was doing right now. Soccer season was over and he didn’t have early morning classes scheduled, so he was probably in bed. I imagined him laying there, comfy and cozy under his sheet and gray-and-white striped comforter, hugging the pillow the way he did when he was in a deep sleep. Only when I was there, it wasn’t the pillow he guarded with his strong arms. It was me.
“Ouch!” I hissed as the person sitting behind me poked a finger into my back.
I turned slightly to see the girl sitting there shrug apologetically and hand me a note. I glanced back at the professor; still droning on aimlessly, wandering through his snooze fest of a lesson.
I grabbed the note and unfolded it under the guise of my notebook.
Hey Paigey. How are you feeling after that horrible accident Saturday night? Any lingering injuries? I’d hate for you to get burned again. But when you’re playing with fire, that’s usually what happens.
Of course Hannah wouldn’t be stupid enough to sign the note. She was the queen of no evidence.