Page 64 of Our Ruined Beginnings

He laughs again, and it infuriates me so much I swing my foot into his ribs. I don’t know what happened to my best friend, but the guy lying on the floor right now is not him. He groans and curls into himself, still coughing out a chuckle.

“What’s so fucking funny?” I yell, sending another kick into his side.

“How easy it was to get you to blame her.” He coughs again; spits blood over the tiles. “For someone who claims she was so important to you, you threw her away like yesterday’s trash. You never even considered that maybe she was telling the truth… that maybeshe wasn’t the one driving…” He wheezes for breath as he laughs, seemingly hysterical. “Sweet, innocent Harper would never have gotten behind the wheel, and yet you believed she did… becauseI said so.”

I see red.

When conscious thought comes back to me, I’m straddling Evan’s torso as he lies beneath me, unmoving. Blood leaks from everywhere, but I can hear the rattle as his chest rises and falls. His lucky day, I guess. My own chest is heaving, my pants coming heavy as my arms burn against the exertion of fighting the people trying to pull me off him.

I’m going to pay for this; I know I am. The Taylors might be powerful, but so are the Dickenses, and leaving one bloodied and unconscious won’t be taken lightly. Although, I guess it might pale in comparison when they find out what he’s done.

Harper.

Does she know? I push myself up and off Evan and shove away the arms holding me, then sprint over to Harper’s dorm. I’m soaked through by the time I reach it, although I barely notice, the pouring rain background noise to the thud of my pulse in my ears.Please let her be in.I rush through the entrance and up the stairwell, hammering on her door the second I’m close enough.

It’s only a moment before she opens it, as if she were waiting on the other side. A frown mars her face, and she looks like she’s seen a ghost. She trails her gaze over me, her hands trembling at her side as if she longs to reach out to me the same way I do her.

But before any of that, I have to tell her … shehasto know.

“It wasn’t you…”

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Harper

Graduation night

AssoonasIstep through the doors, I’m looking for him, my eyes pining as much as my stupid heart does. I scan the dark room, and even though I can’t see him, I know he’s here. I can feel him—that comforting blanket of safety and contentment that comes with being in his presence.

“You good?” Nate, my date for the evening, asks. Guilt niggles at my insides as I continue to peruse the room, searching forhim, though I push it down quickly. It’s not like he’s expecting marriage and babies from me. We’re friends. Whether or not he knows I only said yes in the first place to being his date tonight to get under Madden’s skin, I’m not sure. I doubt it, seeing as I wouldn’t admit that out loud to anyone, least of all Nate, my science partner for the last year.

But not admitting it out loud doesn’t mean it’s not true.

It seems most things I do these days are to try to get a reaction from him. Whether it be happiness when I make him laugh so hard his eyes crease and a carefree bellow erupts, or the annoyance he feels when I steal his last Oreo. Or maybe when his eyes narrow imperceptibly, his jaw setting in a way I don’t think he even notices, a veil of jealousy covering his movements.

That might be my favorite reaction to draw out of him; something I’ve grown addicted to. Hence bringing a date I couldn’t care less about to my graduation party, knowing that he’d hear about it. He always does.

Whenever I go near a guy, someone rushes to tell my overprotective best friends that their innocent little Harper has a date.

Nate weaves me through our classmates and friends, his hand steady on my lower back as he guides us into the overflowing kitchen. The marble counter is barely visible under the weight of half a store’s worth of alcohol and the red cups that litter the gaps in between.

I’m not much of a drinker, usually, but hey, you only graduate from high school once, right? Might as well see my senior year off in style.

“What are you drinking?” Nate asks as he drops his hand and reaches for a beer. I survey the offering and turn my nose up at the bowl of punch. I’ve heard way too many a horror story to be diving into that.

“I’ll just get a White Claw, please,” I say, and smile my thanks when he dutifully hands one over. I crack the top, taking a small sip. The strawberry settles on my tongue as I swallow, the liquid running down my throat easily.

Nate opens his mouth to say something else—no doubt making more awkward small talk, as he’s done for the last half hour since he picked me up from my place—but I don’t register his words. A shrill whistle echoes through the air, stealing my attention.

My head snaps in the direction of the open double doors that lead out to the patio. A bubble of laughter slips past my lips before I can catch it, and my heart pounds in my chest long before my eyes find him.

There he is, holding court in the backyard, lounging back on one of the daybeds like he doesn’t have a care in the world. Madden Taylor. My longtime best friend, and the object of all my dreams and desires. If he’s here, then I’ve no doubt Caleb and Evan are also around somewhere, but I can’t peel my eyes away from him long enough to confirm.

My eyes roam his long legs clad in dark jeans, and the tight black shirt that clings to his tanned body. His dark hair falls over his forehead, dipping into his eyes—eyes that are locked on me. Even from this distance, I can see the glimmer of amusement lingering in his gaze. Smug fucker. He knows everyone is gawking, their stares flicking between the two of us after his whistle—the one meant only for me.

His eyes travel the length of me in a lazy perusal—a delicious mix of checking I’m okay and checking me out—without a care for our growing audience.

Heat licks at every inch of my body, and I bite down on my lower lip, tugging the skin between my teeth as he drags his gaze upward.

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