Page 131 of Ecstasy
“That’s not fair. This is myapartment. You have no fucking right to be here.”
“Haven’t you heard, beautiful? Life isn’t fair.”
She rolls her eyes. “Fuck you, Alex.”
“Whatever.” I turn away from her to head back into the kitchen. This isn’t up for debate. I’m not leaving.
She grabs my arm though, yanks me around. “Don’t be an asshole.” I know she knows what she’s doing because her eyes flash with that last word, and her pink lips turn up into a smile as she bats her lashes at me.
“Zara. Don’t do this.”
“I want you to leave. I’m not the only one with a problem, you know. That temper you’ve got? Fucking ridiculous. Why don’t you work on yourself before you—”
I feel that temper rising. My body gets hot all over, my chest, especially. My pulse is flying, and I want to explode. “I’m not the one with the fucking problem, Zara!” I pull out of her grip, flinging her arm off me. “You are! You’re the one getting high every damn day, you’re the one fucking my best friend. You’re the one with the fucking drug dealer who is worried about you!” I lean down close to her. “You are the addict. You are the fucking problem. I’m not fucking up my life. You fucking are!”
She’s still gripping my arm, glaring up at me.
“Let go of me, Za.”
She only squeezes my arm harder, her nails digging into my skin. She steps closer, until I can feel her body heat. Smell her scent. “Get the fuck out of my house.”
I bite my tongue. “Let go of me.”
She doesn’t.
We both know I could shove her away if I wanted to, but I think she expects that, so I just slide my hands into the pockets of my shorts and glare at her.
“You don’t want to let me into your brain, you clearly hate mine, so what the fuck are we doing?” she spits at me.
“Shut the fuck up and let me out of this fucking room.”
She tips her head back and laughs and I want to wrap my fingers around her pale fucking throat. “I will,” she says, dipping her chin down to glare at me, “as soon as you agree to leave.”She lets go of me, and her words venomous when she says, “If you don’t let me go, you see this fucking scar?” She pulls up my shirt she’s wearing, points at those scars on her thighs. The ones I’ve been too scared to ask about.“If you don’t leave, I’ll tell everyone youdid that. Now, get the fuck out.”
“What the hell happened?” I ask her, because now is the time, above all others. Now is the fucking time, when she blackmails me with them. I take a step closer to her and see some of the defiance leave her eyes. She’s tall, but I’ve got close to a fucking foot on her. “Tell me how you really got them.”
She drops the shirt over her thighs. “You never noticed. You never fucking cared.”
Stupid. For a smart girl, she can be so fucking stupid.“No.” I grab her shirt—my shirt—and spin her around, so she’s against the wall. Her breath leaves her in a rush and rage colors her face as she grabs my hand, but I don’t let go of her. “Don’t put that on me. I’ve cared about you from day fucking one. Way more than you ever cared about yourself. I’ve noticed everything about you. The scar on your thighs. The one on your hip.” She gasps at that. “Now, you can tell me how you really got them, or you can keep that shit to yourself, but we aren’t discussing me.I love you, Zara, and I always fucking have. That’s not up for debate and neither is me leaving.”
Roughly, I let her go and step back.
“And don’t even think about running. I swear to God, Zara, if you do, your ass will be back in rehab so fucking fast you won’t even know how the fuck it happened.”
“Why would my mom trust you?” she spits at me, her eyes narrowed. “Why would she believe you over me?”
“I got Kylie to trust me, didn’t I? Kylie fucking Jones, and I can guarantee you we do not have a damn thing in common. Don’t test me, Zara. Don’t fucking test me, because I’ll come out on top every time.”
41
Zara
I pacearound the living room, Alex is sitting at the table with his back to me, his feet propped up on the chair beside him, his phone in his hand.
Fucking asshole.
He’s just a fucking asshole.
There’s no more daylight outside of the open blinds in the living room, and I don’t know how the fuck the day has passed like this, in fucking silent rage, but it sure as shit has. He made lunch, burgers without buns because we didn’t have fucking bread, and frozen French fries. I ate none of it and ordered dinner. Chinese.
