Revive Me (35 page)

“Not here,” I hissed. Dawson stopped his movement and looked at me. He read me, like only he could, and took a step back. He slid his hands into his pockets, and waited for what I had to say. “We’re not going to do this here,” I told Reese.

Reese gripped his tray. “I’ve tried calling you, but it says your phone is off.” I changed my number the day I got home. I threw my phone in the trash, not bothering to erase all the threatening messages, and bought a new one. “I didn’t know how else to get ahold of you.”

I looked at him straight in the face. “I don’t think there’s anything we need to talk about.”

“I need to apologize,” he said rapidly, like he was afraid he’d be pushed away before he had the chance to get it out. My throat grew thick. I didn’t want his apology. I wanted him to leave me alone. I wanted him to act like I didn’t exist. “I need to explain myself.”

“Dude, you don’t have shit to explain to her other than the fact you’re a fucking loser,” Cody snarled, his lip curling up in disgust. “And we already know that. You’re a pussy who hurts girls and has his friends fight for him.”

“I didn’t have them do shit,” Reese said, defensively, and I could feel the tension getting thicker in the air. “And you don’t know shit about me and Tessa, so stay the fuck out of it.”

“Fine,” I said, cutting into their argument, noticing Dawson was ready to snap. “Stop by my house after school, and I’ll talk to you.”

“I’ll be there,” Reese said.

“Five minutes. That’s all I’m giving you of my time.”

He nodded in response and walked away.

Dawson grabbed his chair and fell back down onto it. “You don’t have to do that,” he said. “I’ll tell the asshole to get fucked.”

“I know I don’t have to, but I think I need to,” I answered.

My stomach was a twisted bundle of nerves the rest of the day. The stares continued, but thankfully no insults were flung my way. I guess they’d gotten word of my middle finger response. Dawson was right. It’s no fun when your prey isn’t crouching in fear.

I found Dawson by our locker after my last class. “Hey babe,” he greeted, kissing me on the cheek and handing me my bag. “Everything go okay? Your elbow sore?”

I laughed. “I actually had to drop kick a few, but other than that, I’m fine,” I answered, hearing him chuckle behind me as I grabbed notebooks for my homework and slid them into my bag.

“The gossip is already moving on,” he said, slamming his locker shut and grabbing my hand. His fingers interlaced with mine, and the weight of him at my side helped relax my nerves as we walked down the hallway.

“Oh really?” I said, rolling my eyes, and he nodded. “I doubt that.”

We went outside and walked along the salted sidewalks. I noticed the shadows of our breaths hang through the cold air as we stomped through the snow. “I guess some freshman is pregnant with the quarterback’s baby.”

“I don’t think that one is going to take all the attention off me. There’s always a pregnant girl in school.”

“You’re right, but it gets better. Quarterback boy has a girlfriend.”

“Surprise, surprise,” I muttered.

“And that girlfriend is the older sister of the pregnant one.”

“And shit just got real,” I joked before getting serious. “I doubt that will keep people from talking about me, though, but I’m done caring. I’m done with the gossip. Who knows what the real story is.”

Gossip was a bitter, ugly bitch. Gossip was created out of jealousy and spite. People who wanted to bring others down thrived on gossip, clinging to every bad thing they could spew out of their mouths because they were insecure. They were resentful of them, or they just hated their own lives, and needed something to build them up. But you can’t build yourself up by tearing people down.

My car beeped as Dawson unlocked it, and I carefully walked to the passenger side and got in. Dawson blasted the heat on high, and the ice-kissed windshield began to defrost.

I spotted Reese’s old, beat-up car sitting idly in front of my house when we got home. The windows were down, and he was smoking a cigarette.

“I can still tell this asshole to get lost,” Dawson said, the veins in his neck pulsating.

“No. I need to talk to him. I’ll meet you inside in five,” I said, opening my door, walking around the car, and kissing him on the lips.

“How about I just stand on the porch?”

I slapped his shoulder. “No.”

He sighed dramatically. “God, I hate it when you get all bossy. Just let me take one swing at the guy, and then I’ll let him talk to you.”

I gave him a look, and he held up his hands. “I’m sure he feels bad about what happened at the party. No need to have any more fights.”

“I could care less about what he did to me. I got a few bruises, but no big deal. That shit heals. I want to punch his arrogant face in for what he did to you. The heart takes more time to heal than a few bruises.”

“I’ll be okay,” I reassured.

He headed towards the house, keeping his eyes directly on Reese, until he reached the door and walked in.

I walked to Reese’s passenger side door, pulled a few times before it opened, and got in. The stench was still there and he hadn’t cleaned out his car. It was actually worse. Blankets were laid out in the backseat, and cans of drinks, beer, and bags of chips lying across them.

He tossed his cigarette out the window and lit another. “You know those things will kill you,” I said, breaking the silence.

He lifted it up and shrugged. “Eh, you keep tellin’ me that, but they’re harmless.”

I looked forward and stared out of his windshield. “I thought the same about you.”

He coughed around the cigarette, and dragged it away from his mouth. “Damn, you’re not going to go easy on me, are you?” I didn’t say anything. I just kept looking forward. “I see you and pretty boy finally got together,” he said, scratching his temple. “I knew that shit was bound to happen.”

“I didn’t agree to this so you could talk about him or my relationship.”

He nodded in understanding. “You look happy.”

“I’m getting there.”

“I’m happy for you, love, I really am.” We both stayed silent and low music came from his stereo. “Look, I want you to know that I’m not that guy.”

“And what kind of guy is that?” I asked, my voice suddenly cracking with anger, and I shot him a disgusted look. “You used me. You acted like you liked me, you took my virginity for Christ’s sake, and then you dropped me like a bad habit. You humiliated me in front of a room full of people, and then you beat up my boyfriend. So please, Reese, tell me what kind of guy does that.”

He let out a sharp breath and smashed his cigarette into the ashtray. “I know, fuck,” he groaned torturously. “You scared the shit out of me. I saw them.”

“You saw what?”

“Your scars.”

My head flew up in shock and my eyesight grew blurry. “What? How?”

“The next morning. I woke up and couldn’t go back to sleep. Your arm was lifted out of the blankets and sprawled across your pillow by your face. At first I thought I was imagining it, until I took a closer look and saw there was more than one. I’ve been through shit, and I’ve gotten myself out of it. I knew you had problems, but I didn’t know you were that bad. I knew what being in that dark place felt like, and I cared about you, but it scared me. It scared the shit out of me. So I fled. That’s what I do when I’m scared. I run away, and I hurt people because I’m a piece of shit.”

My heart dropped a little for him, but I didn’t forgive him. I didn’t feel sorry for him. “So you didn’t use me from the beginning?” I mocked. “I highly doubt that.”

“In the beginning, it was for fun. You were hot and a challenge. I like those. So I went with it,” I scoffed. I’d finally realized I didn’t love Reese. I’d just been infatuated with the feeling he gave me.

“So I was just a game to you?” I smacked my hands down against my legs in frustration.

“To be honest, yes, at first. But then I got to know you, and you were more than that. You were more than some rich girl who was pissed at her parents and going through some shit. You were hurting, really hurting, and I thought I could fix you. But I’m too fucked up myself to try to fix anyone. I would’ve done nothing but hurt you more. So I ran.”

“But you took my virginity first.”

“Yeah,” he drew, “that was a bad judgment call on my part, and I’m an asshole for that. I’m not the kind of guy you date. I’m not the kind of guy you bring home to your parents and talk about your future kids. I’m the in-between guy. I let you drink your thoughts away, I have sex with you, let your wild side come out, and then I let you go on your way. We may talk afterwards, have random hook-ups here and there, but it would never go past that.”

“So why did you even want to talk to me? Why are you here?”

“I wanted to see how you were doing after,” he paused, like he was afraid bringing it up would set me off, “whatever happened. You don’t have to talk about it. I wanted closure with us. I don’t want you to hate me. I’ve tried to apologize to your guy, but he’s got a stick up his ass.”

I nodded in understanding. I’d wanted closure, too. But now that I was facing him, I realized that’s not what I needed from him. I needed closure from myself. What I’d done with him was stupid, but I’d made those decisions. I’d let myself get manipulated. And now, I felt dumb for it. I was pissed at myself. He wasn’t who I needed to forgive and get closure from. That person was me.

“Fine, I don’t hate you. Is that the closure you wanted?” I ignored the part about Dawson. There was no way he’d let Reese try to bullshit him with an apology.

He looked at me baffled. “There’s no way it’s that easy.”

“It actually is.” He continued to stare at me, his eyes wide and mouth slightly hanging open. “Does this mean we’re going to be hanging out and being best friends? No. But I’m not going to go on and be upset anymore. What happened, happened. You can’t take it back. I can’t take it back. There’s no correcting the damage.”

“I guess you’re right. But I do want you to know one thing.”

“What?”

“When I told you I liked you, I did. I’ll be honest and say I wasn’t in love with you, but I did like you. You’re an amazing person. I want you to know that. I’d never feel for you like that pretty boy jackass does. He’s going to make you happy, and I’m glad.”

“Thanks,” I swallowed. “And you too, with whatever.”

He laughed. “Babe, there ain’t no making me happy, but I find my own ways to make it work.” I nodded. Reese needed to get his own help, but I wasn’t the person to help him do that. Like Elise, Reese had to want help first.

“Take care of yourself, Reese,” I said, gripping the door handle and looking at him.

“You too,” he said, his shoulders pulled low.

I left him and headed toward the front door without looking back at him. Did I hate Reese? No. Did I want to be around him again? No. That ship had sailed. Reese had taught me who I didn’t want to be, and I was grateful for that. He’d taught me that not everyone in my life was meant to stay and that my decisions always impacted my life. I would forever remember that.

Dawson

I
stood at the open doorway to Tessa’s bedroom, trying my best to hold back my laughter as I watched her zip up the large suitcase on her bed. She fell forward, her stomach smacking into the top of the bag, as she tried to grab the top handle and drag it from the bed. The bag was almost as big as her. “You stupid thing,” she muttered, wrapping her arms around each side and dropping it down onto the floor, nearly taking herself down with it. She pushed the bag upright, cursed at it a few times, and grabbed the handle to stand it up straight.