After (The After Series) (20 page)

My heart drops. I slowly turn back around to Hardin, expecting to see his harsh green eyes glaring at me. But instead, they are closed; a frown is set on his face, but he is still asleep. I can’t decide if I’m relieved that he is asleep, or somber that he called out my name.
Is that what he did, or am I hearing things now?

I jump out of the room and gently close the door behind me. I have no idea how to get out of this house. I walk straight down the hall and I am relieved to find the stairs easily. I pad down the stairs and nearly collide with Landon. My pulse quickens as I try to think of something to say. His eyes scan my face and he stays silent, waiting for an explanation, I assume.

“Landon . . . I . . .” I have no idea what to say.

“Are you okay?” he asks with concern.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I know you must think—”

“I don’t think anything. I really do appreciate you coming. I know you don’t like Hardin, and it means a lot to me that you would come here to help get him in control.”

Oh. He is so nice, too nice.
I almost want him to tell me how disgusted he is that I stayed the night with Hardin, that I left my boyfriend alone in my room all night after I took his car and ran to Hardin’s rescue, just so I feel as bad as I should.

“So are you and Hardin friends again?” he asks, and I shrug.

“I have no idea what we are. I have no idea what I’m doing. He just . . . he . . .” I break into sobs. Landon wraps his arms around me in a warm and comforting hug.

“It’s okay. I know he can be so terrible,” Landon says softly. Wait . . . he must think that I’m crying because Hardin did something terrible to me. He would probably never assume that I’m crying because of my feelings for Hardin.

I need to get out of here before I ruin Landon’s good opinion of me and before Hardin wakes up. “I have to go. Noah is waiting,” I say, and Landon gives me a sympathetic smile before saying goodbye.

I get into Noah’s car and drive back to my dorm as fast as I can, crying most of the way there. How will I explain this all to Noah? I know I have to—I can’t lie to him. I just can’t imagine how much this will hurt him.

I’m a terrible person for doing this to him. Why couldn’t I just stay away from Hardin?

I’ve calmed myself as much as I can before I pull into the student lot. I walk as slow as I can, unsure how I’m going to face Noah.

When I open the door to our room, I find Noah lying back on my small bed, staring at the ceiling. He jumps up when he sees me come in.

“Jesus, Tessa!
Where have you been all night?
I’ve been calling you nonstop!” he shouts. This is the first time Noah has ever actually raised his voice at me. We’ve bickered before, but this is a little scary to see.

“I am so, so sorry, Noah. I went to Landon’s house because Hardin was drunk and he was breaking things, and the time just got lost, I guess, so by the time we cleaned up, it was really late and my phone was dead,” I lie.

I can’t believe I’m lying straight to his face—all the times
he has been there for me, and here I am lying to him. I know I should tell him but I can’t imagine hurting him.

“Why didn’t you use someone else’s phone?” he says forcefully, but then pauses. “Never mind—Hardin was breaking stuff? Are you okay? Why did you stay there if he was being violent?”

I feel like he is asking me a thousand questions at once, disorienting me.

“He wasn’t being violent; he was just drunk. He wouldn’t hurt me,” I say and cover my mouth, desperately wishing I could push those last words back in.

“What do you mean
he wouldn’t hurt you
? You don’t even know him, Tessa,” he snaps and takes a step toward me.

“I’m just saying that he wouldn’t hurt me like physically. I know him well enough to know that. I was just trying to help Landon, who was there, too,” I say back.

But Hardin would hurt me, emotionally—he already has, and I’m sure he will try again. And here I am defending him.

“I thought you were going to stop hanging around those type of people? Didn’t you promise me and your mom that you would? Tessa, they aren’t good for you. You’ve started drinking and staying out all night, and you left me here all night—I don’t know why you even had me come here if you were just going to leave.” He sits down on the bed and rests his head on his hands.

“They aren’t bad people; you don’t know them. When did you become so judgmental?” I ask him. I should be begging for him to forgive me for how badly I’ve treated him, but I can’t help but be irritated by the way he’s talking about my friends.

Mostly Hardin,
my subconscious reminds me, and I want to slap her.

“I am not judgmental, but you would have never hung out with those Goth people before.”

“What? They aren’t Gothic, Noah, they’re just themselves,” I say. I am as surprised by the defiance in my words as Noah is.

“Well, I don’t like you hanging out with them—they’re changing you. You aren’t the same Tessa that I fell in love with.” I realize then that his tone hasn’t been malicious at all. It’s just
sad
.

“Well, Noah—” I begin, and the door flies open. My eyes follow Noah’s to an angry Hardin storming into the room.

I look at Hardin, then at Noah, and back to Hardin. There is no way this is going to go well.

W
hat are you
doing
here?” I ask Hardin, even though I do not want to hear the answer, especially not in front of Noah.

“What do you think? You snuck out on me while I was asleep—what the hell was that?!” he booms. I hold my breath as his voice echoes off the wall. Noah’s face flashes with anger and I know that he’s beginning to put the puzzle pieces together.

And I’m torn between trying to explain to Noah what is going on and trying to explain to Hardin why I left.

“Answer me!” Hardin yells and stands in front of my face. I’m surprised when Noah steps between us.

“Don’t yell at her,” he warns Hardin.

I’m frozen in place while Hardin’s face twists in anger. Why is he so mad that I left? He was mocking my inexperience last night, and would have kicked me out this morning probably anyway. I need to say something before this all blows up in my face.

“Hardin . . . please don’t do this right now,” I beg. If he leaves now, I can try to explain to Noah what is going on.

“Do
what,
Theresa?” Hardin asks and walks around Noah. I hope Noah keeps his distance. I don’t think Hardin will hesitate to take him down. Noah is pretty buff from soccer, especially compared to Hardin’s lean body, but I have no doubt that Hardin can hold his own, and most likely win.

What the hell is happening in my life that I have to worry about Noah and Hardin fighting?

“Hardin, please just go and we will talk about this later,” I say, trying to defuse things.

But Noah just shakes his head. “Talk about
what
? What the hell is going on, Tessa?”

Oh God.

“Tell him; go on and tell him,” Hardin says.

I can’t believe he is doing this. I know how cruel he can be, but this takes it to a whole other level.

“Tell me what, Tessa?” Noah asks, and I can see his stance is an aggressive one, because of Hardin, but it’s softening as he wonders about me.

“Nothing, just what you know, that I stayed at Hardin and Landon’s last night,” I lie. I try to match my gray eyes to Hardin’s in hopes that he will stop this now, but he looks away immediately.

“Tell him, Tessa, or I will,” Hardin growls.

I know it’s all lost. I know there’s no hiding anything anymore, and I begin to cry. But I want Noah to hear it from me, not the smirking asshole who’s brought us to this point. I’m humiliated—not for myself, but for Noah. He doesn’t deserve any of this, and I’m ashamed of the way I’ve treated him and the confessions I’m going to be forced to make in front of Hardin. “Noah . . . I . . . me and Hardin have been . . .” I start.

“Oh my God,” Noah stutters, and his eyes begin to water.

How could I do this to him? What the hell was I thinking?
Noah is so kind, and Hardin’s cruel enough to break Noah’s heart in front of him.

Noah’s hands go to his forehead and he shakes his head. “How could you, Tessa? After everything we have been through? When did this start?” Tears stream down his face from his bright blue eyes. I have never felt this terrible—I caused those tears. I look over at Hardin and my hatred for him consumes me so that I
shove him instead of answering Noah. Hardin is caught off guard and stumbles backward, but he steadies himself before he falls.

“Noah, I am so sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking.” I rush over to my boyfriend and try to hug him, but he refuses to let me touch him. And he’s probably right to. If I’m being honest, I’ve not been good to Noah for a while. I don’t know what the hell I was thinking. I suppose something crazy like Hardin becoming decent and me breaking up with Noah so I could date him—how stupid can I be? Or that I could just stay away from Hardin and Noah would never know about what happened between us? The problem is that I
can’t
stay away from Hardin. I am a moth to his flame, and he never hesitates to burn me. Both were stupid and naïve ideas, but I haven’t made one good choice since I’ve met Hardin.

“I don’t know what you were thinking, either,” Noah says, with a look of regret and hurt in his eyes. “I don’t even know you anymore.”

And with that, he walks out the door. Out of my life.

“Noah, please! Wait!” I rush after him, but Hardin grabs my arm and tries to pull me back.

“Don’t touch me! I can’t believe you! This is low, Hardin, even for you.” I scream and jerk my arm out of his grasp. I push him again, hard. I have never pushed anyone in my life before today, and I hate him so much.

“If you go after him, I’m done,” he says, and my mouth falls open.

“Done? Done with
what
? Fucking with my emotions? I hate you!” But not wanting him to feed off my rage, I slow down and speak more calmly. “You can’t end something that never began.”

His hands fall to his sides and his mouth opens but no words come out.

“Noah!” I call and rush out the door. I run down the hall and
out across the great lawn, finally catching up to him in the parking lot. He starts walking faster.

“Noah, please listen. I am sorry, so sorry. I was drinking. I know that isn’t an excuse, but I . . .” I wipe my eyes and his face softens.

“I can’t listen to you anymore . . .” he says. His eyes are red. I reach for his hand, but he pulls away.

“Noah, please, I am so sorry. Please forgive me. Please.” I can’t lose him. I just can’t.

Reaching his car, he runs a hand over his perfectly gelled hair, then turns to face me. “I just need some time, Tessa. I don’t know what to think right now.”

I sigh in defeat, not knowing what to say to that. He just needs time to get over this and we can go back to normal. He just needs time, I tell myself.

“I love you, Tessa,” Noah says, then catches me by surprise when he kisses my forehead before climbing into his car and driving away.

B
eing the disgusting person that he is, Hardin is sitting on my bed when I return. Visions of me grabbing the lamp and bashing him in the head flash through my mind, but I don’t have the energy to fight with him.

“I’m not going to apologize,” Hardin tells me as I walk past him toward Steph’s bed. I will not sit on my bed while he’s on it.

“I know you aren’t,” I say and lie back.

I won’t let him bait me into this fight, and I don’t expect him to apologize. I know him better by now. Well, recent history would say that I don’t know him at all. Last night I thought he was just an angry boy whose father left him, and that he held on to that hurt, using the only emotion he could to keep people out. This morning, I see that he is just a terrible, hateful person. There is nothing good about Hardin. At any moment I believed there was, it was only because that is what he tricked me into believing.

“He needed to know,” he says.

I bite down on my lip to prevent the tears from returning. I stay quiet until I hear Hardin get up and move toward me. “Just go, Hardin,” I say, but when I look up he is standing over me. When he sits down on the bed, I jump up.

“He needed to know,” he repeats, and anger boils inside me. I know he just wants to get a rise out of me.

“
Why,
Hardin?
Why
did he need to know? How could hurting him possibly be a good thing? You weren’t affected one bit by him not knowing—you could have gone on with your day without telling
him. You had no right to do that to him, or me.” I feel the tears coming again but this time I can’t stop them.

“I would want to know if I was him,” he says, his voice steady and cold.

“You aren’t him, though, and you never will be. I was stupid to think you could possibly be anything even close to him. And since when do you care about what is right?”

“Don’t you dare compare me to him,” he snaps. I hate the way he chooses only one of my statements to respond to, and that he usually warps what I’m saying to better provoke himself. He stands up and moves toward me, but I back away to the other side of the bed.

“There is no comparison. Don’t you get that by now? You are a cruel and disgusting jerk who doesn’t give a shit about anyone but yourself. And he—he loves me.
He
is willing to try to forgive me for my mistakes.” I stare into his eyes. “My terrible mistakes,” I add.

Hardin takes a step back as if I’d pushed him. “Forgive you?”

“Yeah, he will forgive me for this. I know he will. Because he loves me, so your pathetic plan to get him to break up with me so you can sit back and laugh didn’t work. Now get out of my room.”

“That wasn’t . . . I—” he starts to say, but I cut him off. I’ve wasted enough time on him already.

“Get out! I know you’re probably already plotting your next move against me, but guess what, Hardin? It isn’t going to work anymore. Now get the fuck out of my room!” I am surprised at my harsh words, but I don’t feel bad for using them against Hardin.