Page 121 of Scrimmage

“He said that…I’m a slut.”

“I say that. You say that. That’s not what happened.”

“Fine. He called me a whore.” The word vomit starts to pour out. “Acted like I owe it to him to date him or fuck him. He also said that I’m Koda Armory’s pocket pussy and that when I’m tossed aside I’ll come crawling back to him.”

Koda is quiet. The problem with Cole’s observations is that they were true. Every single one of them.

“He wasn’t wrong,” I continue. “Not really. I mean he forgot themutualpocket pussy part, but he’s right. I think this should be over.”

Koda clears his throat. “Do you care what I think?”

I look up at him. “Can’t you see? That’s the problem. I’m starting to.”

He rubs his hand over his face and looks up at the ceiling. “This got complicated, didn’t it?”

I don’t want to leave. I want to stay in this spot, and that’s dangerous. So I extract myself from his arms and find my phone plugged in on the counter.

Koda comes after me. “Ashland.”

I unplug it and start going through my messages. There are plenty from Penny. Pictures and updates from her trip. Some drunken texts from people back home. A few from Cole that says he’s sorry and that he can’t find me. One from Alexi asking if I’m okay. Two from Koda.

Answer the phone

Almost there, baby girl

I look up at him over my phone. He's going to toss me aside, and it’s going to fucking hurt. Shit. How did I let this happen?

“I flew back here for you.” He’s emotional. I don’t do emotion well. At. All.

So I get angry instead. “I didn’t fucking ask you to do that.”

“You didn’t ask me for the sketch book or the car either. I just did it.”

“Because you were trying to manipulate me!” He sticks his tongue in his cheek. “Thought I hadn’t figured it out, huh?”

He nods slowly. “The car, not the sketch book.”

“Congratulations, Armory. You managed to do it. Right under my nose, too. You fucking win.”

“That’s not what I want,” he says with frustration.

“I drew you,” I seethe. “I fucking drew you.” Flashes of Damien go through my mind. “I’m so fucking stupid.” I put my palm to my forehead, trying to smash the memories down.

“Fucking stop it. You’re intelligent,” his voice rises.

“Get a new pocket pussy.” I clutch my phone and start to leave, but he blocks me in.

“You’re a person, Ashland!” he shouts. “What I think is that you’re fucking scared of having actual feelings for once. You go to parties and you string boys along because it’s easy. It doesn’t actually require you to feel anything. You fuck losers because you know that’s all they’ll ever be. It means you don’t get attached. You don’t let people see the shit you draw because they’ll fucking see inside of your head and get a look at the real Ashland. Cole is jealous of that. Plain and simple. He likes it when you hurt because it means that you’ll keep using him. It means that you’ll keep pushing people away, and he’ll still be standing there.”

“What do you want from me?”

“I…I don’t know.” He yanks his hair. “I don’t know. I don’t fucking know.”

“I’m sorry you had to take care of me,” I apologize quickly.

“Don’t be like that, baby girl.”

Baby girl.

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