Page 13 of Blurred Lines

“Says the girl who’s sleeping with four guys,” I grumble.

It’s Hadley’s turn to flick a chip at me. “If you don’t want regrets, then make the most of the last few weeks of the semester.”

I frown. I don’t have time for that in my schedule. Maybe I’ve missed my chance. Perhaps a near threesome is as exciting as my high school days are going to get. And maybe I just need to come to terms with that. It’s not like life is over as soon as we graduate. I actually got an email from Jared, the lead singer for Death on a Matchstick, the other day, asking if I’d be interested in going on tour with them this summer. I haven’t decided what to do yet, so I haven’t responded. And then there’ll be college, and even though I plan to work hard, there should be time to have fun too. I just don’t want to look back on my high school days and only remember studying. I guess, I just want to go out with one epic hoorah. Although, based on the shit Hadley and the guys are dealing with at the minute, I should just be grateful if we all make it to graduation alive.

“I’m with Hadley,” Wilder pipes up, looking at me more closely than he was before. “Your high school career isn’t over yet. If there are things you wish you’d done, then now’s the time to do them.” There’s a glint in his eye that I can’t quite place, and it holds me captive for a moment. I get lost in the fire burning in his hazel irises, and an unexpected heat sparks to life between my thighs when his lip quirks up in a cheeky grin. “I gotta say, though, I didn’t know you had it in ya, Em.”

***

Exams are just around the corner, and the workload is ramping up. Between my intense study schedule and Hadley and the guys being overwhelmed with trying to juggle school and deal with their parents, I barely get to see her, or any of them.

It’s late on Thursday night when I pack up and leave the library, savoring the fresh air as it clears my head. I scan my eyes over the grounds, which I always think feels a little eerie in the dark, with only the streetlamps to guide us along the path to the dorms. There’s hardly anyone else around as I descend the steps at a clipped pace, hoping to get back to my room as quickly as possible.

As my foot hits the path at the bottom of the steps, a shadow falls over me, and I startle, my head snapping up.

“Hey, babe.” My shoulders tense as Deke casually drops his arm over them. I stare at him with wide eyes. What the fuck is he doing out here? I know for a fact he wasn’t in the library. He’s not exactly a studious person.

It was one thing for him to approach me the other day in the dining hall, but it’s way too fucking creepy that he’s seeking me out this late at night. Was he fucking lurking out here in the dark, waiting for me? That’s not creepy as shit.

“You never did answer me,” he says, sounding like he’s chastising a disobedient child.

My palms are slick with sweat, and annoyingly, there’s a slight tremble to my voice as I ask, “Uh, what was the question?”

One side of his lips lifts in a cocky grin, and I’m not sure if it’s because he thinks he’s going to get the answer he wants, or if he gets off on knowing he scares me.

“I want you to come to the party with me tomorrow night.”

“Oh.” I chew on my bottom lip for a second, trying to work out how I can get out of here without riling him up. There’s absolutely no fucking way I’m agreeing to go to a party with him, so that option is immediately crossed out as a possibility.

My eyes dart around us, hoping to find another student walking back to the dorms. Anyone really, even a freshman. Deke’s less likely to make a scene or do something stupid if there’s a witness, but just my luck, we’re all alone as he squeezes my shoulder painfully, impatiently pushing for my answer. “I’m sorry, I can’t. I have to study.”

God, what a lame excuse. Even if it is the truth.

He laughs, acting as though he’s unbothered by my rejection. Or maybe he is actually unbothered. He’s probably cocky enough that he thinks my rejection isn’t really a rejection. That I’m just playing hard to get, or he’s confident he’ll be able to turn my no into a yes.

“You need to learn to let your hair down.” He ducks his head, pressing his nose against my hair, and I recoil—at least, I try to, but his grip tightens on my shoulder, making me wince as he holds me in place against him. “I can help you unwind a little...if you know what I mean.”

I know exactly what he means, and no fucking thanks.

I have to suppress a shudder, and even though it feels like there’s something stuck in my airway, I force out a girly giggle, knowing I need to play along with this sick charade for now. Something about Deke makes me super fucking uncomfortable. It’s like some basic protective instinct. He’s never paid me any attention before, so I hadn’t ever realized it until this semester, but between our interaction in the dining hall and this, I’ve realized I never,everwant to be caught alone with him again.

I try to make my voice soft and coaxing as I say, “You’re probably right. But I really can’t this week.”

When he pulls away, letting out a frustrated breath, I bat my eyelashes at him. I have never been a flirty type of girl. I’m the awkward, foot-in-her-mouth kind, but if it gets me out of this situation, I will flirt my fucking heart out.

“Fine,” he relents, waving a hand dismissively. “But you owe me.”

There’s an undercurrent of warning in his tone, and even though he still has a cocky grin in place, acting like this is all good fun, I can see the truth that lies beneath it. There’s a steely menace in his eyes that has goosebumps pebbling along my arms, and sets alarm bells ringing in my head—as if I hadn’t already realized this was a situation I needed to get out of ASAP.

Reaching the junction in the pathway for the girls' dorms, I slam to a halt, but he keeps going, as if to turn toward the dorm building. He turns to look at me with a quizzical brow. “I’ll walk you to your room.”

Terrified that he’s going to demand whatever the fuck he thinks I owe him, I smile up at him, like his words are the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard—barf—and I once again force a flirty tone to my voice. “That’s so sweet, but you don’t have to do that. I’m sure someone like you has much better things to do.”

He mulls it over for a second before nodding. “I do, actually.” With one last lingering look that somehow manages to make me feel naked and reinforces that he’ll be coming to collect what’sowedto him, he saunters off. Only when he’s disappeared into the dining hall do I let out a long exhale, and on shaky legs I rush to my room, not relaxing until I’m safely inside with the door locked and blinds drawn.

Chapter 7

“You wanna know what’s wrong? I can’t sleep because every time I close my eyes, I’m back in that room with Lawrence, trapped and terrified. Every time I stop to just breathe, or take a moment, I hear Bowen’s voice in my head, telling me all the fucked up shit he wants to do to me. If someone plays loud music, I have a panic attack ‘cause the guards would pump it through the speakers for days, so loud I hoped it would burst my eardrums, just so I could get five minutes of sleep. The slightest noise makes me jump, I can’t get my mind to shut off, and today…I have no idea what the fuck happened back there. So you wanna know if I’m okay? No, Hawk, I’m so fucking far from being okay, I don’t even know what direction to go in. I feel like I’m fucking drowning, and I don’t know how to swim, so I’m treading water, just trying to stay above the surface, but I’m tired, Hawk. I’m so. Fucking. Tired.”

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