Saint

29

My hands shake as I reread Carley’s message again and again. What does Dylan want? How did he track me to Carley’s house? Why? After James’ death, he’d told me he never wanted to see me again.

No, he’d called me a trashy whore, then revealed he never wanted to see me again.

I take several deep breaths as I try to rationalize my way through this. Just because he showed up at Carley’s house, doesn’t mean he knows I’m here. She’d never tell him, and it’s not like I’m afraid Dylan would do anything to hurt me. I’m just afraid of everything he knows about me. After a few moments of continuous breathing, the world stops spi

7:36 AM: I’m sure he just wanted to check on me. He was my favorite teacher in Rayfort, after all.

That’s the fucking understatement of the century, but I can’t let Carley know that. I can’t ever let her find out what really happened between me and Dylan. It’s yet one more terrible secret among what feels like hundreds, but this one might be the worst. I just have to pray if Dylan shows back up at Carley’s, he doesn’t tell her anything.

Tucking my phone back in my pocket, I scrub my hands over my face and groan. How’d everything get so fucked up so quickly? It was all going so well. Saint and I were leaving enemy territory far behind, Liam was thawing toward me, and the school as a collective wasn’t wishing I’d dissolve into a pile of Infinity War-esque dust. It felt as though someone had thrown a switch on in my life one day, making everything better, then flipped it again another day, making it all shit once more.

I need to get away from the judging gazes and buzzing whispers all around me so I can think straight. Ducking my head, I wind my way through the tables to get to the door, then hurry outside to make my way toward English. My mind is a riot, and my heart won’t stop racing. I can’t stop thinking of Dylan. A part of me thought I’d never hear from or see him again. I would’ve never thought he’d actually try to hunt me down like this. What if he does eventually find me?

What the hell am I supposed to do then?

Maybe I should try to reach out to him and beat him to the punch. Figure out what it is he wants before he ruins my life. Which he definitely will, if he tells anyone anything about us. It’d be a huge risk for him, but he might hate me enough that he’s willing to take that risk. Fuck, fuck, fuck! I have no idea what to do. There’s no one I can talk to about this. No one to turn to for advice, or even to unburden myself to. My history with Dylan is just sitting in my gut, rotting me from the inside out.

I can only imagine what would happen if anyone around here found out about him. I can only imagine what Saint would do if he ever discovered the truth.

I bet his current rage would pale in comparison.

I’m so lost in thought, I don’t notice the cluster of girls in my path ahead until I’m nearly upon them. I come to an abrupt stop as they block the sidewalk, fa

One of the girls takes a step forward, separating herself from the pack. I recognize her. She might be a junior, but I’ve never spoken to her. I’ve never spoken to any of these people.

“Where do you think you’re going, ski

I fist my hands. “Please move.”

“Do you have no shame?” another of the girls snarls.

“What do I need to be ashamed of?” I demand. I have this terrible feeling deep in my belly that I know where this is going, but I’m going to make these bitches say it out loud and to my face.

“It’s your fault Liam and Saint aren’t friends anymore,” the first girl hisses. “You fucked everything up between them, and everyone hates you for it. Why don’t you just quit this school? Or better yet, why don’t you just—”

“What the fuck is happening here?” a deep voice booms behind me. Recognizing it instantly, I cringe then whirl around, stu

He’s glaring at the girls around me.

“Saint!” the first girl gasps. I glance over my shoulder and have to fight not to grin at the wide eyes and expressions of straight up fear I see. “W-we were just telling this slut…”

“Call her a slut again, and I’ll ruin your fucking lives from this point until you graduate from this place,” he snarls. I turn my gaze back to him, surprised. Why’s he defending me? Isn’t he still angry with me?

The stupid girl doesn’t seem to understand the tumultuous territory she’s tiptoeing through. “But … but Saint, she—”

“Get the fuck out of here,” he barks.

I hear the girls gasp and squeak in fright, and then their feet clatter against the sidewalk as they hurry to run away. I don’t bother to watch them go, though. My eyes remained locked on him approaching me like a predator.

When we’re alone, he lowers his chin, until we’re eye to eye—his storm versus my tsunami.

“What was that?” I demand.

His nostrils flare. “Just because I’m pissed at you doesn’t mean they get to talk to you like that.”

“Not without your permission, that is?” At his stony expression, I take a breath, my heart humming and my cheeks heating. “I wish you’d let me explain,” I say. “This is all a big misunderstanding…”

“That you were at the fight with Liam, or that he was practically on top of you in public?”

Any soft emotion his protectiveness might have provoked in me is gone in an instant. I narrow my eyes and clench my teeth in irritation.

“I wasn’t at the fight with him, we both just happened to be there. And he wasn’t on top of me! The crowd was too loud for me to hear him, and he was just whispering in my ear. That’s it.”

“What was he whispering?” he asks, his tone still suspicious.

I roll my eyes. “None of your goddamn business.”

“And you expect me to just take your word that it was completely i

God, he’s acting like a jealous boyfriend!

“You can believe whatever you want, but you seem to forget that we’re not exclusive. We’re not even dating, technically. If I talk to another guy, you can’t freak out about it, just like I don’t freak out knowing you’re likely hooking up with half the female population here and—”

“I’m not fucking anyone but you.”

It takes me a moment to truly comprehend what he said. When his words settle into my mind, I gawk up at him in shock.

“Wh-what?”

He doesn’t flinch from my gaze when he repeats himself, emphasizing every syllable. “I’m not fucking anyone but you.”

Now, my heart is slamming against my ribcage and I don’t know what to say in response right away. I hadn’t thought about him with other girls too much. I hadn’t wanted to. A part of me had figured he wasn’t sleeping with a lot of other people, since he was spending nearly every night with me, but I hadn’t dared assumed he’d stopped messing around completely. To find out he’s only been with me is…

I puff out a shallow breath then drag my hands over my face. “I … I didn’t ask you to do that.” I don’t know what else to say. It’s the truth, though. It wasn’t an expectation on my part for our arrangement, though a pleasant and not unwelcome surprise.

He shrugs nonchalantly, as if his monogamy means nothing, when in truth it means a shit ton. “Why should I keep chasing pussy when I have a steady ride whenever I want?”