Shut Out

He was right. When this had started, I’d said we weren’t using sex as a weapon. But some of the girls were. I’d even encouraged it.

I could feel tears stinging my eyes. It hurt to hear, hurt to know that I really was a tease. I’d spent weeks discussing and fighting sexual labels with the other girls, but here I was, deliberately tormenting Cash with sex, becoming the stereotype. I was ashamed of myself.

But I just couldn’t stop fighting him. “So I’m a bad person because I won’t sleep with you?” I demanded, knowing that wasn’t what he meant but needing so badly to hurt him. I needed him to feel as angry as I did. To hate himself as much as I hated myself at that moment. I wanted him to regret every bad moment between us, the same way I did.

Cash flinched. “I did not say that,” he said. “And that’s not how I meant it. Lissa, I—”

“Good,” I yelled. “Because… Because nothing will ever happen between us again.” I was backing toward the door of his bedroom. I had to get out of there before more stupid things left my mouth. “We’re done. It was just a game, right? This whole thing between us—kissing me in the library the other day, all the flirting—it was a game so you’d win the war. Well, game over. I played, and now I’m done. I can’t do this anymore.”

“It wasn’t a game,” Cash whispered. “Not to me.”

But I barely heard him as I bolted from the room, clapping a hand over my mouth to keep from saying another word. I didn’t let myself stop to think about what he could have meant by that. Didn’t let myself hope or dream. I just ran.

I’d lost it. My sanity, my ability to think, my control. I’d let Cash get the better of me, and I’d lost my cool physically and verbally. I was ashamed and embarrassed, and before I even got out of the trailer, I was regretting every word I’d said.

chapter twenty-­seven

I was already outside on the porch before I remembered that Cash had driven me here. “Fuck,” I wailed, sinking down onto the front steps of the trailer and burying my face in my hands.

I took a deep breath and forced myself to calm down. Freaking out would only make this infinitely worse. I needed to keep my cool. To stay in control. To think and find a way out of here.

I heard the door of the trailer slide open behind me. “Lissa,” Cash said, his voice gentle as his footsteps shook the loose wooden boards I was sitting on. “Do you need a ride?”

“No, thank you,” I said in a stiff, polite voice. I self-consciously tucked the hem of my skirt beneath my knees, feeling exposed.

“How will you get home?” he asked.

“I’ll call someone.”

“You left your purse inside.” I felt the bag drop to the ground beside me. “You sure you don’t…? I could give you a ride, Lissa. It’s not… We don’t have to talk about this if you don’t want to.”

“Thank you,” I said, pulling my purse into my lap. “But I’m fine. I appreciate the offer.”

That was the truth. I did appreciate it. I appreciated that he came after me even considering how I’d talked to him. Randy never would have chased me like that. He would have waited for me to cool down, waited for me to come back and apologize for the things I’d said. He would have just let me go. Hell, I would have just let me go.

Then again, I had left my purse inside. Cash didn’t have much of a choice but to bring it out to me.

I ducked my head and began digging for my cell phone. I could feel Cash still standing behind me, silently watching. “You don’t have to wait,” I told him after I located the phone.

“I know I don’t,” he said. “But I’m not leaving you out here alone in the dark, either.”

I snorted. “We live in Hamilton, Cash. Not Detroit. It’s not like something scary and dangerous is going to happen to me while I’m waiting.”

He didn’t respond.

Part of me wanted him to say, “Fine,” and stomp back inside, out of my hair and my life. But the other part of me—the louder, more emotional part—was thrilled that he cared enough to stay. To watch out for me. I wanted it to mean something.

I hesitated with my finger over the keypad. I could call Chloe. Hell, I could walk to her place from here. But that wouldn’t have been a good idea.

Because she’d been right. So right. She’d told me not to do this, not to play with fire. But I’d argued. I’d said I could handle it even though I obviously could not. I didn’t want to hear her gloat at me. I didn’t want her to know how right she’d been. Not tonight, anyway.

For that matter, I didn’t want to see any of the strike girls. Because if they realized whose house they were picking me up from… I didn’t even want to know what they’d think had been going on.

So I called the only other person I could think of.

“Lissa, I thought you said you didn’t need a ride tonight?”

Logan sounded agitated. On the other end of the line, I could hear the sounds of forks scraping along plates on top of a low hum of conversation.

“Where are you?” I asked. “Shouldn’t you be at home?”

“No,” Logan said, sounding a little a

“I need a ride.”

“I thought your shift ended, like, two hours ago.”

“It did. I’m not at work. Can you come get me?” I was all too aware of Cash, so close to me, able to hear everything I said. I cleared my throat. “I just need to go home. Please, Logan?”

“Are you okay?” He sounded worried.

“I’m fine. I just need you to come get me. Look, you can bring your date, too. Just get me, drop me off at home, and go back out. I don’t care. I just—”

“No, no,” Logan said quickly. “I’ll send her home and be on my way. Where are you?”

I gave Logan the address, and I could sense the tone of suspicion as he read it back to me. I’m sure he was wondering why I was across town in the trailer park. There was no way I was giving him an answer to that.

I hung up the phone and slid it back into my purse. “My brother is on his way,” I said, as if Cash hadn’t just overheard every word. “So you don’t have to worry anymore. Thanks.”

“Lissa, I—” Cash began, but then he stopped himself. Finally, he said, “Do you really want me to leave you alone?”

No.

“Yes.”

I wasn’t looking at him, so I couldn’t see his reaction to this. But I felt the ache of my own disappointment when he said, “All right.” The porch creaked, and a moment later I heard the screen door close behind me. When I turned around, I saw that he’d left the bigger wooden door open, and I wondered if he was still keeping an eye on me from inside, still watching to make sure I was okay.

I wished he’d stayed.

Something was wrong with me. I should have been happy Cash was gone. I hated him. Hated him for making me feel this way. For turning me into a sex-crazed freak. I couldn’t believe how willing I’d been. How eager I’d been for things to go further. I was ashamed.

I shouldn’t have been; I knew that. If there was one thing this strike had taught me it was that there was no right answer—it was okay to want or not want sex. It wasn’t anything to feel guilty about. I knew, I knew, I knew….

But I guess sometimes knowing doesn’t fix everything. I’d played by the rules of secrecy and shame my entire life. Learning to break them would take time.

It wasn’t fair. Lysistrata never had this problem. In the play, the other women yearned for their husbands, missed sex, but not her. She stayed strong. Why couldn’t I be like that? Why, after a year of being afraid, of avoiding it with Randy, was I suddenly lusting after Cash?

Part of me didn’t even want to know the answers.

Seventeen minutes and six seconds later, Logan’s car pulled into the driveway. “Hey,” he said, leaning out the open window as I strolled toward him. “What is going on? You look… Your hair… Never mind.”