Before Hadley (23 page)

I felt myself spiraling. Spiraling into an abyss. One that wouldn’t release me with both my head and heart intact. I lay down on my floor and closed my eyes, praying sleep would pull me under so I didn’t need to feel anymore.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Hadley

Lorelei barged into our room a week later. “That’s it.”

I didn’t bother pulling my attention away from the glow-in-the-dark stars on the ceiling above my bed. The same ones I’d been staring at for God knows how long.

“Get up. We’re going out.”

“Out? It’s after eleven.”

“Exactly.” She walked over to her closet and shuffled through her clothes. “The good stuff never happens until after midnight.”

“I’m not really in the mood.”

She ripped a tight green top from a hanger and tossed it on my bed. “I’m sick of watching you walk around here like a zombie.” She moved to my dresser and pulled a pair of torn skinny jeans from my bottom drawer.

“Maybe I like zombies.”

She tossed the jeans right at my head, so I had no choice but to grab them. “Sure, and like zombies, you haven’t showered in days.”

I thought about it for a minute. She was right.

“When my beautiful, confident roommate starts letting herself go, I need to step in.”

“How do you plan on doing that?”

“By getting you showered. Then getting you drunk.”

* * *

Lorelei had been right. Good things did happen after midnight. Beer pong. Cups. Quarters. And apparently I was the master. And stinking drunk for the fifth night in a row. And while I didn’t normally hang out with Lorelei outside our room, the girl could drink, draw a whole lot of attention from hot guys, and keep me distracted.

The houses we’d been partying at had been a revolving door of frat guys, jocks, local rockers; you name the type, they’d been through. Thankfully, I hadn’t seen or heard from Jake or Conner since the night of the fight. I hadn’t really expected to hear from Jake after we parted ways. But Conner…I wondered if his disappearance was part of his plan—another one of his strategies.

I’d forgotten how nice it felt to get lost in a crowd. But being the reigning beer pong queen, I was drawing more attention than I was used to.

“Throw it back to us,” Lorelei shouted over the music to our opponents, two frat guys who’d waited in line for half an hour to play against us. Now that they’d gotten their chance, we were two cups away from beating their asses. 

They tossed the ping pong ball across the table. Lorelei grabbed it. She aimed it at the cup at the point of the triangle in front of them and lobbed it right in. One of the guys retrieved the ball and downed the beer. The other tossed his ball into the corner cup closest to me. I picked out the ball and threw back the beer like the champ I’d become. It had been going down like water—I had the slurred voice and squinty eyes to prove it. I aimed my ball at the back center cup, the only one of ours left with beer in it. With as much precision as I could muster at one in the morning, I released the ball. It sailed through the air and hit off the rim of one of the other cups, bouncing high into the air and landing back down, somehow managing to bounce into the last filled cup.

Our opponents cursed while Lorelei and I screamed, grabbing each other into a hug like we’d won the state championship in an actual sport.

“Why haven’t we ever hung out like this before?” I asked, feeling drunk and wistful.

She pulled back, looking me right in the eyes. “Oh, Hadley.” She didn’t even try to disguise her sympathy. “You’re a great roommate, but you make it so damn hard to get close to you.”

I felt my face fall.

“Freshman year I tried to include you in everything I did. Don’t you remember?”

I shrugged. Most of the year had been a blur.

“You always just kept to yourself.”

“It wasn’t you. I’d just been through a tough time.”

She nodded. “I figured that. But I also figured you’d eventually talk to me about it or get over it on your own.”

“I didn’t.”

She shook her head. “But this week’s been a start.”

I smiled. “Better late than never.”

She laughed.

Over her shoulder the front door opened, carrying in a gust of cool air and my worst nightmare. Conner and his crew. I was not ready to see him—especially while I was drunk. Though I couldn’t miss the turning heads and whispers as he trailed into the party. Something about his confidence commanded attention. And attention is what he got. His eyes did their usual sweep, but I wasn’t about to be caught in his gaze.

I stepped back from Lorelei and walked over to our opponents. “Great game.” The guy closest to me held up his hand for a high-five, but I threw my arms around his neck instead, surprising him. I didn’t normally play games. I liked to believe I was straightforward and honest. But apparently I’d learned from the pro.

At that moment, my presence registered on Conner’s face. His eyes flared and he stalked across the room. His steps determined. His eyes focused on mine. As if hypnotized, I couldn’t look away.

I held onto the frat guy a little tighter. He took that as encouragement and wrapped his arms around my waist. Conner didn’t need to know I’d just met the guy. He didn’t need to know anything.

“What’s going on, Hadley?” Conner asked when he stopped beside us.

I released the guy and turned to Conner. I felt my body sway on my knee-high boots, but I recovered. “It’s called having fun. You should try it some time.” I leaned closer, lowering my voice like I had a secret to share. “Or can you not find time while you’re busy looking for your next victim to play?”

He eyed the frat guy with what could only be described as his prison glare. The wimp took off in the opposite direction. Conner leveled me with the same scary glare. “Where’s your boyfriend?”

I didn’t bother with a response. He knew I’d done what he planned for me to do, sending Jake packing after the fight. Why affirm it?

He stepped toward me. I stepped back. I remembered his game and was in no mood to play. Unfortunately, my boots made it difficult to maneuver backward while drunk. “Is there a reason you don’t know?”

I glared at him, looking for the lies in his eyes. “Stop acting like you don’t know,” I slurred, more than what was acceptable.
Actually, was slurring ever acceptable?

He took another step. So did I. “Did it have anything to do with him
trying
to kick my ass at the bar?”

“Trying? I saw the blood. Serves you right for provoking him.”

His lips twitched. “I bet you liked watching me fight for you.”

I cocked my head to the side. “Getting punched in the face was you fighting?”

He shook his head, a slight smile now tipping his lips. “That was me letting him know I’m not going anywhere.” His nearness was daunting and he smelled so freaking good.

“I must’ve missed that while I was worried about him kicking your ass.”

“No need to worry.” There was a bite to his words. “That would never happen.” His eyes roamed over my tight clothes and boots. “The girl I knew rocked cut-offs and band T-shirts like no one’s business.”

“The girl you knew is gone.”

“Yeah, I guess I should’ve figured. She wouldn’t have been caught dead hanging all over some random guy. She hated girls like that.”

I pulled in a breath as my eyes blazed with fury. “First of all, I can hang all over whomever I choose.”
Good one, Hadley.

“Then choose me.” He didn’t smile. He was completely serious.

I swallowed down my surprise. I would not be distracted by him. “And second, it’s none of your business what I do.”

“Everything involving you is my business.”

I laughed sardonically. “Oh that’s right. You still love me. That’s why you keep playing me.”

“Playing you?” His voice was incredulous.

“Just when I think maybe there’s hope for us, you go and blow it.”

His eyes were frenzied, caught off guard by my admission. “Hope for us? What does that mean?”

Shit. “Nothing. Stop changing the subject. You knew if he punched you, I’d send him away.”

“I hoped, but I didn’t know,” he assured me quickly, clearly hoping I explained what my big mouth just admitted.

“You don’t care who you hurt, do you?” I glared at him, hating him for getting it wrong. For not understanding. For sending me the damn letters. For making me want to forgive him after reading them. “As long as you get what you want, to hell with everyone else. Is that who the real Conner is?”

He flinched. “I never wanted to hurt you.”

I ignored the sincerity in his eyes. “But that’s what you keep doing.” My head began to spin with all the alcohol I’d consumed, so I looped my arm through Lorelei’s, who’d remained close by. “Let’s get outta here.” I pulled her toward the door and away from Conner. As drunk as I was, I knew the longer I stayed there, the greater the risk of me saying something I would’ve regretted in the morning.

* * *

The next morning my head throbbed like the second hand on a clock. I rolled over and reached for the glass of water on my nightstand. I gulped it, hoping it stayed down. Given my queasiness, it was fifty-fifty. I grabbed my phone from the spot beside my now empty glass. I had one text. I pressed it. My heart stuttered as the photo Conner had taken of us at my mother’s fundraiser filled the screen. The message below it read:
The real me loves dancing with you
.

I stared at the photo. At our younger selves. At our smiles. We looked so happy. At the time, I’d tried so hard to keep him away for fear of being hurt by the school’s newest player. But in the end, I was only hurting myself by staying away. I stared at the picture for a long time. I could see, even now, he’d been happy to be there with me. He gained nothing from it, only the opportunity to spend time with me. And from what his letters claimed, he didn’t even know about the pistol until the week of his arrest.

“Looks like you throwing down the gauntlet, set a fire under him,” Lorelei said as she walked into our room later that week. She moved to my desk, where a box filled with packages of licorice—enough to feed my entire building—sat on my chair. She grabbed a package and tore into it. Her eyes shot to me studying on my bed.

My eyes moved around the room, stopping on all the things I’d received. The box of licorice with the note:
The real me likes girls who eat licorice.
A huge bouquet of pink flowers sat in a vase beside my bed with a card sticking out the top. The message read:
The real me might send flowers
. A box of art supplies sat untouched on the floor beside my desk with a brief note on top:
The real me loves your art and wants to see more of it.

“He’s all about proving who the real Conner is, isn’t he?” she asked, though it wasn’t a question. She’d been there when I asked him the question. It was my fault he took me at my word and made it his mission to show me.

I released a sigh.

“Have you called to thank him?” She dropped down onto her bed, gnawing away at the licorice.

I shook my head. “I’m happy he’s trying to figure out who he is, but it doesn’t mean I have to be part of it.”

“But he’s making you part of it.” She leveled me with the same eyes Cass used when I was being stubborn. “Look, I’m not trying to tell you what to do. But the guy wants you back. If you don’t want him, be upfront. The way you dealt with him at that party, I couldn’t tell if you wanted to kick him in the balls with those killer boots or jump into his arms and kiss his face off.”

I stared across the room at her, my mind jumping to all our interactions. Had I been giving him mixed signals? Had my confusion translated to playing hard to get? It was difficult knowing how to act with him, especially after reading the letters. Part of me wanted to forgive him and the other wanted to hate him for deceiving me
again
.

When Lorelei left the room for a shower a little while later, I pulled out my phone and sent him a text.
This has to stop.

And just like that, radio silence. No texts. No gifts. No run-ins for the next week. Thankfully, hanging out with Lorelei each night afforded me little time to even think about him. She purposely kept me distracted. Purposely avoided mentioning him. Purposely kept me focused on the future and not the past. Saturday night, we sat a high-top table at a crowded bar near campus. Lorelei had met a guy, and I got stuck talking to his best friend.

“So, what’s your major?” he asked.

Ugh. “Undecided.”

“Oh, cool. You live around here?”

“On campus.” I smiled, trying to act interested. But I wasn’t. Getting drunk, meeting new guys, and staying out until all hours of the night wasn’t me. It never had been.

“Oh, yeah? Maybe we can go back there later and party.”

“Maybe,” I lied, before excusing myself and walking to the line at the bathroom. Usually, I wished the line moved quickly. Not tonight. My eyes scanned the congested bar. Nothing about it made me want to stay. Not the loud music. Not the crowded dance floor. Not the constant elbows from people walking by. Not the small talk with people I didn’t have anything in common with. I needed to leave. I needed the quiet of my room. I needed something else.