Page 51 of Dating After the End of the World
“Blake, you’re drunk.” I took a step toward him, placing my hand on his shoulder. “Let’s get you to bed.”
He shrugged me off. “Did you hear that, everyone?” The music lowered and all eyes were on us, like we were center stage and a spotlight had just been shined on Blake and me. I hated every second of it. “Head Case Pearson is trying to take me to bed!”
The party erupted with laughter, and several people joined in, hurling insults and comments at me. I felt sick to my stomach. My heart hammered in my chest, and my skin began to perspire, sweat gathering at my hairline.
“Blake, why are you acting like this?” I said in a low voice, hoping only he would hear me and it would snap him out of whatever this was. “I thought we were ... friends.” I didn’t want to say girlfriend and boyfriend or in a relationship, because we had never put a label on it. But I felt like we were more.
“Friends?” He cackled, slapping his knee to punctuate how funny he found it. His face turned serious, his eyes dark and cold. “I could never be friends with a freak like you.”
Some of the guys egged Blake on, high-fiving him and hooting and hollering while he continued to taunt and mock me. My bottom lip trembled, and my eyes welled with tears. I didn’t want him to see me cry, to see how much he was hurting me, so I darted out of the house before a sob could tear through me. A quarter mile away down the road, I could still hear their laughter. My heart ached, and I thought it might have snapped right in half. Blake’s interest in me, all the time we had spent together, had just been one big, cruel joke. And he had finally gotten to the punch line.
The memory makes me jerk away. Blake’s eyes shoot open, and confusion takes hold of his face. “What’s wrong?”
“Why’d you do that?”
“Do what?”
“Kiss me. Why’d you kiss me, Blake?”
His brows shove together. “Because I wanted to, because I like—”
“Stop!” I say, unpeeling myself from him. I dust the grass clippings off my clothes, collect my flashlight, and start walking.
“Wait,” Blake yells. He catches up to me and grips my shoulder, turning me to face him.
I shrug him off and point the flashlight right at his face.
“Jesus,” he says, holding up his hand to block the bright light.
I lower it and narrow my eyes. “I know what you’re up to.”
He jerks his head back. “I’m not up to anything. I swear.” Blake tries to reach for my hand, but I yank it away.
“Yeah right. You’re up to the same shit you did in high school, but I’m not falling for it this time. I’m not falling for you.” I turn and stomp toward the house.
“Casey,” he yells.
I ignore him. I should have ignored him from the very beginning. He’s too easy to fall for.
Without warning, I’m spun around again, standing face-to-face with Blake. He leans in and kisses me, but this time, I pull away. For good measure, I swing an open hand through the air, slapping him as hard as I can across the cheek. Stunned, he lets his jaw go slack, and his eyes expand.
I point a finger at him, thrusting it into his chest. “Don’t you ever fucking touch me again, Blake.”
Turning on my heel, I storm off just as tears begin to prickle behind my eyes. It takes everything in me not to look back, but I know if I do, I’ll be right under his spell again.
Chapter 22
My lungs scream for air as I slow my pace from a run to a jog to a full-on stop, nearly keeling over. Sweat trickles down my back, sending a chill up my spine, thanks to the cool air. Glancing up at the sky, I take solace in the fact that the sun is hidden somewhere in the clouds, refusing to make an appearance today. Good, because I don’t want to see it. It feels like there’s a cloud hanging over my head anyway, so it’s nice to see its gloomy friends up there. I plop down on the grass and stretch my legs out in front of me, reaching for my toes.
“I think I’m dying,” Tessa pants as she rounds the corner of the house, sluggishly jogging toward the front yard, where I’m seated. As soon as she reaches me, she collapses onto her back, splaying her arms and legs out as if making a snow angel.
“Why did I agree to do this?” she says, still out of breath.
“Because it got you out of having to help can vegetables.”
“Oh, yeah. That’s right.” She nods. “Not sure I made the right choice, though.” Tessa lifts her head, looking around. “Where’s Molly?”
Before I can answer, she comes speed-walking toward us from around the dummy house, carrying three canteens. She’s dressed in different clothes from the ones she started the run in.
