Page 62 of Our Ruined Beginnings

“Keep an eye out,” I tell him, and hear him gasp as I open the door.

“Shit, man, you’re gonna get me in so much trouble.”

“Nah, you’ll be good.”

I close the door behind me and head straight for the phone on the desk. It’s one of those large, corded handsets that can be transferred and conference and whatever other shit a dean needs, but it’s only the call log I’m after. I pray it wasn’t a withheld number. Would it even get through if it was?

There’s a whole load of outgoing calls from today, and I scroll through them, looking for any incoming. Around 10 a.m., I see it—just one phone number, clear as day, and my stomach drops. Slowly, everything starts to fit into place, memories and niggling thoughts ironing themselves out. The picture I’m left with makes me furious.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Harper

Whataclusterfuckofa day. Is there going to be a single day while I’m at Davis where I get through it unscathed? Doesn’t seem like it.

I want to shake Evan’s arm from around me as he guides me back to my dorm, but I don’t want to seem ungrateful. He really saved my ass back in the dean’s office, and I don’t know what I’d have done if he didn’t show up. God knows what my father would’ve said if I had to tell him I got kicked out.

Evan’s hand tightens on my waist, and I feel like a bitch for the way I want to shudder against his touch. He’s been there for me recently. From calling off the bullying to spending time with me, and even just talking me down when the girls attacked me. I should be more appreciative of the way he’s pulling me back into the fold. He appears to be right there, wherever I need him, recently.

“How did you know about the drug test?” I ask, the question popping out before I’ve thought it through. I didn’t tell him, and no one warned me about it, so I’m not sure how he would’ve heard.

“Todd overheard the dean and called to warn me,” he replies easily, and I nod. Of course. That makes total sense. So why is there something else niggling at the back of my head? Why does my body will me to stop him from touching me, to get away from him?

As we reach the door to my building, I turn to face him, forcing an appreciative smile onto my face as I stall us outside even as rain begins to pepper our clothes.

“Thank you so much for today. Honestly, I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.”

“You’ll never have to find out,” he says sweetly, but it makes every hair on my arms stand up. “I’m here for you, Harper. It can be me and you again.”

I don’t bother to tell him it’s never been me and him. Even with him being Caleb’s and Madden’s best friend, and teammate, we’d never had anything between us.

He cups my face, his thumb tracing over my cheek. “Whether I have to save you from yourself, the school, or the bitches that hurt you, I’ll do it.” His thumb presses harder against the cut lining my face, and it suddenly occurs to me that it’s not accidental. Before, when I was apparently coming down from the drugs I’d ingested at the party, I’d not even thought about it. My face was tender, and he didn’t realize how much. Now, though, it’s like he reminds me of the pain they inflicted the first time he saved me.

Except he’s not supposed to know what happened.

I saw him afterward, as I was running out of the toilet. I told him I’d caught it on the corner of someone’s locker, and he seemed to believe me. Did someone tell him? Because Evan never mentioned that he knew I’d lied to him.

“I’m really drained after today, but I’ll call you later, okay? Maybe we can get dinner?”

His smile is smug, his eyes lighting up as he nods like I’ve pleased him.

“That sounds great. Get some rest.”

I try not to run the second he drops my hand, focusing intently on keeping my pace even until I’m out of his view. Then I run up the stairs, suddenly afraid he’ll be right behind me if I slow. I need to get away from him. I need time to think. I rush through my door, close it, and lean against it, my heart racing in my chest and my blood pumping in my veins.

Evan knew about the girls cutting me. Sure, he could’ve been told after, by them or by Madden, but why would they have done that? And why hasn’t he made them apologize or acknowledge what happened? The whole thing plays out behind my lids, my eyes scrunched shut as if that can help me focus, help me see the bigger picture.

I came out of the stall, and they were waiting. Just those three. She lunged for me, grabbing a handful of my hair. I twisted; she slashed. The door swung open and shut, but the three of them were still there. None of them had left. So someone had seen what was happening and then left.

The drug test. Somehow, someone knew what I didn’t—that I’d apparently taken drugs, when even I hadn’t known. Except I’d only drunk was a few beers that night. Beers offered to me by one person.

Was Evan sabotaging me?

There’s only one time I’ve ever blacked out and not remembered the night before. The night that changed my life. The thought churns my stomach, but I will myself to remember, piecing together each minute of that day as I stand heaving against the door.

Madden

Evan struts along the hallway paying no mind to the world around him, like he’s got the whole fucking universe sitting at his feet. He’s intently focused on his phone, so he doesn’t see me coming, but he sure as fuck notices when I grab the scruff of his shirt and shove him against the wall.

---