Page 81 of College-Virgin & Dark Bully Next-Door

Chase sits on my bed and wraps an arm around my shoulder. “Don’t let it get under your skin. Dad can be a mess, but it’s not up to us to fix it. Wecan’tfix it unless he wants to make progress.”

“But if I stay-”

“He’ll feel like shit when he gets over this. He’ll beat himself up for making you miss out on life. A life you deserve. You worked your ass off to get into college, and I’m proud you’re not letting anything stop you,” Chase says, rubbing my back.

My eyes flick to the trash, and I remind myself I took it out, just like I was supposed to. I shift uncomfortably. My bed is for me and Bonnie or me and Ash. I don’t remember the last time Chase sat with me like this.

“I know this isn’t our normal shit.” He pinches me and chuckles sadly. “But I’m not shitting on you. I’m proud.”

“Even if it’s weird.”

“Oh, you’re entirely weird, but not because of the bugs. I’m just glad you can’t torture me with that damn ant farm anymore.”

I laugh, wipe my eyes and let out a sharp exhale. “Dad wanted me to get the groceries.”

“Already done.” He punches my shoulder. “No thanks to you. But I made sure to get you some of those popsicle things since you have a vendetta against ice cream.”

I stick my tongue out at him, and he does the same back while flicking me off. “Weirdo.”

“Creep!” I yell after him.

I get up and shut my door because heneverdoes, then sit back down. I flinch at the TV screen and change it to some period piece with a romantic edge. Glancing at my phone as it lights up, I sigh and give in.

No matter how easy it is, I know I can’t tune out the world forever. Even if I don’t want to talk about this shit. The stuff that no one can fix, just like Chase said. Venting about it again isn’t going to change anything.

I see only one text from Ash:I’m here for you; all you have to do is ask.

But I haven’t, and I don’t want to. That’s too much for a new relationship and a fragile friendship. Especially one with a timer on it.

Chapter 25

Ashton

Fuck, I’m worried about Sky. Even at Kenny’s for dinner, I keep hoping she’s okay. I head out, only saying I didn’t get around to asking her to come out. But I’m not willing to blow up her phone either. When I get home, I still see the light of her TV in her room and nothing else. Checking my phone, I know that she’s read my text. I haven’t seen her since Sunday, and sure, she doesn’t owe me her time, but goddamn, am I impatient.

It’s already late June. Rubbing my jaw, I try a phone call. After four rings, I’m sure I’m going to end up leaving another voicemail, but she picks up. “Hi, Ash.”

“Hey.”

The silence stretches. There should not be this much radio static after a greeting.

“Are you …” I rub my forehead. “Are we okay? We left things on an okay note, we’re okay right?”

“Not everything is about us.”

Is she purposefully pissing me off? Purposefully drawing back? “Then what is it about?”

“Me. Needing time to think. I have shit to process. I’ll be at your match Friday. Until then, I need some time.”

What does a person say to that shit?

“Baby-”

“Please.” I hear the threat of tears. “I don’t want to be around people right now. Give me until Friday.”

“Kenny missed you at dinner – not to add guilt, just to say you were missed. His wife, Dara, really wants to meet you,” I murmur.

Nothing.

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