Page 23 of Don't Love Me
6
One year later
Ashleigh
I staredat the carriage house and knew what was happening. George had to drive my father to Manhattan for a business meeting and they would be staying overnight. Which meant Marc had the house to himself. I could hear the music and the buzz of laughter and talking. He’d invited friends over.
It made sense. He was home for Thanksgiving break. Of course he would want to reunite with his friends from high school.
I shivered a little in the cold, and hitched the cooler of stuff I’d brought with me higher on my shoulder.
See, anyone might have thought after my horrible attack last year that things would have changed between me and Marc.
He’d be nicer to me. He’d break up with his girlfriend and start dating me instead. He’d acknowledge my existence at school and hang out with me at home.
None of those things had happened. Instead, things pretty much went back to normal.
He’d ignored me at school. Ignored me at home as much as he could.
He did break up with Kaitlin after Christmas and had decided he didn’t want another girlfriend since he was getting ready to graduate. Of course, he got into Princeton, because when Marc decided he wanted something, he almost always got it.
At least the things he could control.
There had been no word about his mother in years. I knew it affected him, even though he pretended it didn’t. Because I was the one who knew him best, so I saw it all. The hurt, the anger, all the stuff he kept bottled up so that no one else could see it.
What I was doing tonight was probably a mistake, I thought. He would most likely tell me to get lost. But this is what I did. I pushed.
I walked up to the carriage house door and knocked. The soft cooler was filled with soda and food I’d made. It was a gesture. For him and his friends. It was also an excuse to see him while he was home.
The door opened, but it wasn’t Marc on the other side. Instead it was Chris, one of the fullbacks from his soccer team. He was a senior this year, and the new captain of the team. He smiled at me in that way guys did that made a girl immediately get defensive.
Did they understand that wasn’t a good thing? To make a girl feel that way?
“And what have we here, a little present? For us?”
I didn’t roll my eyes. “Hi, Chris. I just came over because I thought you all might be hungry.”
His creepy smile widened. “I am. I’mveryhungry.”
Oh, great. Lousy innuendo to go with a creepy smile.
“Is Marc here?”
“Oh, right. A prince for a princess. I get it. Oh, Marc, your girlfriend is here. Bearing gifts.”
Marc came up behind Chris and shoved him out of the way. “She’s not my girlfriend. What do you want, Ash?”
See, a near-death experience hadn’t made Marc any warmer or fuzzier. But I also knew something had changed that night. A realization between the two of us as to why he felt the need to hurt me, and why I accepted it. A realization he wasn’t ready to admit, though.
“I brought sodas, chips, sandwiches and stuff. Thought you might want something to eat.”
I lifted my chin and I could smell the pot someone was smoking inside.
“I’m guessing that a bag of chips might be popular right now.”
A smile played around his lips, until he frowned. “It’s all guys here, Ash. I don’t think it’s a good idea.”
“Come on, Marc, let her in. Chips, chips, chips.” That was from Chris who announced to the crowd what I’d brought. Suddenly the chip chant was a real and very loud thing.
