After (The After Series) (11 page)

He grabs my arm again, but I can’t manage to follow through on my promise. “What do you want, Hardin? To tell me how desperate I am? To laugh at me for letting you get to me again? I am so sick of this game with you—I won’t play it any longer. I have a boyfriend who loves me, and you are a terrible person. You really should see a doctor and get some medication for your mood swings! I can’t keep up with you. One second you’re nice, then you’re hateful. I want nothing to do with you, so do yourself a favor and find another girl to play your games, because I’m done!”

“I really do bring out the worst in you, don’t I?” he asks.

I turn away and attempt to shift my focus to the busy sidewalk next to us. A few confused students’ eyes linger on Hardin and me for a beat too long. When I face him again, he’s running his fingers across a small hole at the bottom of his worn black T-shirt.

I expect him to be smiling or laughing, but he’s not. If I didn’t know any better I would think he was . . . hurt? But I do know better and I know he couldn’t care less. “I’m not trying to play games with you,” he says and runs his hand over his head.

“Then what are you doing—because your mood swings give me a headache,” I snap. A small crowd has gathered around us, and I want to curl into a ball and disappear. But I have to know what he will say next.

Why can’t I stay away from him?
I know he’s dangerous and toxic. I have never been as mean to someone as I am to him. He deserves it, I know, but I don’t really like being mean to anyone.

Hardin grabs my arm yet again and pulls me into a small alleyway between two buildings, away from the crowd. “Tess, I . . . I don’t know what I am doing. You kissed me first, remember?” he reminds me.

“Yeah . . . I was drunk, remember? And you kissed me first yesterday.”

“Yeah . . . You didn’t stop me.” He pauses. “It must be exhausting,” he says.

What?
“What must be exhausting?”

“Acting like you don’t want me, when we both know you do,” he says, and steps closer.

“
What?
I do
not
want you. I have a boyfriend.” The words tumble out too fast and reveal their absurdity, making him smile.

“A boyfriend that you’re bored with. Admit it, Tess. Not to me, but to yourself. You’re bored with him.” His voice lowers, and slows to a sensual pace. “Has he ever made you feel the way I do?”

“W-What? Of course he has,” I lie.

“No . . . he hasn’t. I can tell that you’ve never been touched . . .
really
touched.”

His words send a now-familiar burn through my body. “That’s none of your business,” I say and back away, making him take three steps toward me.

“You have no idea how good I can make you feel,” he says, and I gasp. How does he go from yelling at me to
this
? And why do I like it so much? I have no words. Hardin’s tone and dirty
words make me weak, vulnerable, and confused. I have become a rabbit in a fox’s trap.

“Really, you don’t have to admit it. I can tell,” he says, his voice thick with arrogance.

But all I can do is shake my head. His smile grows and I instinctively back against the wall. He takes a step toward me, and I take a deep, hopeful breath. Not again.

“Your pulse has quickened, hasn’t it? Your mouth is dry. You’re thinking about me and have that feeling . . . down
there
. Don’t you, Theresa?”

Everything he is saying is true and the more he talks to me like this, the more I want him. It’s strange to crave and hate someone at the same time. The attraction I feel is purely physical, which is surprising considering how opposite he is from Noah. I don’t remember ever being attracted to anyone except Noah.

I know that if I don’t say something now, he will win. I don’t want him to have this power over me and
win,
too.

“You’re wrong,” I mutter.

But he smiles. And even that sends electricity through me.

“I’m never wrong,” he says. “Not about this.”

I step to the side before he fully traps me against the wall. “Why do you keep saying I throw myself at you if you’re the one cornering me now?” I ask, my anger pushing past my lust for this maddening tattooed boy.

“Because you made the first move on me. Don’t get me wrong, I was as surprised as you were.”

“I was drunk and had a long night—as you already know. I was confused because you were being nice to me; well, your version of being nice.” I scoot past him and sit down on the curb so I can get out of his space. Talking to him is so exhausting.

“I’m not that mean to you,” he says, looming over me, but it sounds more like a question than a statement.

“Yeah, you are. You go out of your way to be mean to me. Not
just me, but everyone. But it still seems like you are extra hard on me.” I can’t believe I am being this honest with him. I know it’s a matter of minutes before he turns on me.

“That’s just not true. I’m no meaner to you than I am to the rest of the general population.”

I shoot up. I knew I couldn’t have a normal discussion with him. “I don’t know why I keep wasting my time!” I yell. I start walking back toward the main pathway and lawn.

“Hey, I’m sorry. Just come back over here.”

I groan, but my feet react before my brain can catch up, and I end up standing a few feet away from him.

He sits on the curb where I was previously sitting. “Sit,” he demands.

And I do.

“You’re sitting awfully far away,” he says, and I roll my eyes. “You don’t trust me?”

“No, of course I don’t. Why would I?”

His face falls slightly as my words hit him, but he recovers quickly.
Why would he care if I trusted him?

“Can we just agree to either stay away from each other, or be friends? I don’t have it in me to keep fighting with you.” I sigh, and he moves a little closer.

He takes a deep breath before he speaks. “I don’t want to stay away from you.”

What?
My heart beats out of my chest.

“I mean . . . I don’t think we can stay away from each other, with one of my best friends being your roommate and all. So I suppose we should try to be friends.”

Disappointment bubbles up from nowhere, but this is what I want, right? I can’t keep kissing Hardin and cheating on Noah.

“Okay, so friends?” I say, pushing down this feeling.

“Friends,” he agrees and reaches out his hand for me to shake.

“
Not
friends with benefits,” I remind him as I shake, only to feel the blood rush to my cheeks.

He chuckles and moves his hand to play with his eyebrow ring. “What makes you say that?”

“Like you don’t know. Steph already told me.”

“What, about me and her?”

“You and her, and you and every other girl.” I try to fake a laugh but it comes out as a cough, so I cough a little more to try to cover.

He raises his eyebrow at me but I ignore him. “Well, me and Steph . . . that was fun.” He smiles as if remembering something and I swallow the bile rising in the back of my throat.

“And yeah, I have girls that I fuck. But why would that concern you, friend?”

He’s so nonchalant about the whole thing, but I’m in shock. Hearing him admit to sleeping with other girls shouldn’t bother me but it does. He isn’t mine: Noah is. Noah is.
Noah is,
I remind myself.

“It doesn’t. I just don’t want you to think that I will be one of those girls.”

“Aww . . . are you jealous, Theresa?” he mocks me, and I shove him. There is no way in hell I will ever admit that.

“No, absolutely not. I feel sorry for the girls.”

He raises his eyebrows playfully. “Oh, you shouldn’t. They enjoy it, trust me.”

“Okay, okay. I get it. Can we please just change the subject?” I sigh and lift my head back to look at the sky. I need to clear the image of Hardin and his harem out of my mind. “So, will you try to be nicer to me?”

“Sure. Will you try not to be so uptight and bitchy all the time?”

Looking at the clouds, I dreamily say, “I’m not bitchy; you’re just obnoxious.”

I look at him and start laughing; fortunately he joins in. It’s a nice change from screaming at each other. I know we haven’t really resolved the big issue here, which is the feelings that I may or may not have for him, but if I can just get him to stop kissing me, I can focus back on Noah and stop this terrible cycle before it gets worse.

“Look at us, two friends.” His accent is so cute when he isn’t being rude.

Hell, even then it is, but when his voice is soft his accent makes it so much softer, like velvet. The way words roll off his tongue and through his pink lips . . . I can’t think about his lips. I tear my eyes away from his face and stand up, wiping my skirt off.

“That skirt really is dreadful, Tess. If we’re going to be friends you need to not wear that anymore.”

For a second I’m hurt, but when I look up at him, he’s smiling. This must be the way he jokes; still rude, but I’ll take this over his usual pure malice.

My phone alarm vibrates. “I need to get back and study,” I tell him.

“You set an alarm to study?”

“I set an alarm for a lot of things; it’s just something I do.” I hope he just lets this topic go.

“Well, set an alarm for us to do something fun tomorrow after class,” he says.

Who is this and where is the real Hardin?

“I don’t think my idea of fun is the same as yours.” I can’t even imagine what “fun” is to Hardin.

“Well, we’ll only sacrifice a
few
cats, burn down only a
few
buildings . . .”

I can’t stop the giggle from escaping and he smiles back.

“Really, though, you could use some fun, and since we are new friends, we should do something fun.”

I need a few moments to contemplate whether I should be
alone with Hardin before I answer him. But before I can answer, he turns to walk away. “Good, I’m glad you’re aboard. See you tomorrow.”

And he’s gone.

I don’t say anything; I just sit back down on the curb. My head is spinning from the last twenty minutes. First, he basically offered me sex, telling me I have no idea how good he could make me feel; then, a few minutes later, he was agreeing to try to be nice to me; then we were laughing and joking and it was nice. There are still so many questions I have about him, but I think I can be friends with Hardin, like Steph is. Okay, not like Steph is, but like Nate or one of their other friends who hang out with him.

This is really the best thing. No more kissing, no more sexual advances from him. Just friends.

But as I walk back to my room, past all the other kids going about without any knowledge of Hardin or his ways, I can’t quite manage to shake the fear that I just walked into another one of his traps.

I
try to study when I get back to my room but can’t seem to focus. After staring at my notes for a couple of hours but not having really read anything, I decide a shower might help. When they’re crowded, the coed bathrooms still make me uncomfortable, but no one ever messes with me, so I’m getting used to them.

The hot water feels amazing and loosens up my tense muscles. I should be relieved and happy that Hardin and I have reached some sort of truce, but now anger and annoyance have been replaced by nervousness and confusion. I’ve agreed to spend time with Hardin tomorrow, doing something “fun,” and I am terrified. I just hope it goes well; I don’t expect to become best friends with him, but I need us to get to a place where we don’t scream at each other every time we talk.

The shower feels so good I stay in there for a while, and when I get back to my room, Steph’s already come and left. I find a note from her saying Tristan is taking her off campus for dinner. I like Tristan; he seems really nice despite his overuse of eyeliner. If Steph and Tristan continue to see each other then maybe when Noah comes to visit we could all go do something together. Who am I kidding? Noah wouldn’t want to hang out with people like them, but I’m aware enough to admit that up until three weeks ago I never would have, either.

I end up calling Noah before bed; we haven’t talked all day. He’s so polite, he asks about my day as soon as he picks up. I tell him it was good; I should tell him that Hardin and I are going to
hang out tomorrow, but I don’t. He tells me that his soccer team beat Seattle High by a landslide, even though Seattle’s really good. And I’m happy for him, because he seems really happy to have played so well.

THE NEXT DAY GOES BY
way too fast. Landon and I walk into Literature class, and Hardin is already in his seat. “Are you ready for our date tonight?” he asks and my mouth falls open. Landon’s does, too. I don’t know what I feel more conflicted about: Hardin saying it like that, or how it will affect how Landon sees me. Day one of our quest to become friends is not going well so far.

“It’s not a date,” I say to him, then turn to Landon and roll my eyes and nonchalantly say, “We’re hanging out as friends,” while ignoring Hardin.

“Same thing,” Hardin replies.

I avoid him for the rest of the class . . . which is easy since he doesn’t really try to talk to me after that.

After class, as Landon starts putting his stuff into his backpack, he looks at Hardin, then quietly says to me, “Be careful tonight.”

“Oh, we’re just trying to get along since my roommate is his good friend,” I reply, hoping Hardin doesn’t hear me.

“I know, you’re really a great friend. I’m just not sure Hardin deserves your kindness,” he says, purposefully loud, and I look up at him.

“Don’t you have something else to do besides bad-mouth me? Get lost, man,” Hardin snaps from behind me.

Landon frowns and looks at me again. “Just remember what I said.” He walks away, and I worry about how much I’ve maybe upset him.

“Hey, you don’t have to be cruel to him—you guys are practically brothers,” I say.

Hardin’s eyes go wide. “What did you just say?” he growls.

“You know, your dad and his mom?” Was Landon lying? Or was I not supposed to mention this. Landon said not to bring up Hardin’s relationship with his dad, but I didn’t think he meant the whole thing.