Page 19 of Liar
Was he texting Ash?
Jealousy threatened to rear its ugly head, and I swallowed it down, hoping I looked normal. No anxiety to be seen, no annoyance at having to play nice. Just an eager beaver willing to do anything to be with Ash.
Wasn’t that what we were all doing anyway? Trying to play nice with each other to get the girl we all craved? Maybe we could be friends. Maybe I was blowing this out of proportion, but the things I did…I knew I didn’t deserve an easy forgiveness.
I walked right up to Declan, watching as his smile slowly faded the moment his head lifted and our eyes met. “Hey,” I said.
“Hey,” he replied, stuffing his phone into his pocket. He looked…a lot better than he did before. No more bags under his eyes, no more gaunt cheeks. Declan looked less haunted, more alive. Another thing he had in common with me.
We went to the cafeteria, found some empty chairs. I sat down first, Declan sluggish in sitting across from me. After setting my bag on the ground, leaning it against my chair, I rested my arms on the table, meeting Declan’s cautious amber eyes.
He didn’t quite know what to make of this either. Good to know I wasn’t alone.
“So,” I said, trying to tune the noise around us out, “how have you been?” I wanted to hit myself after saying that. I knew how he’d been—his father was dead, the psycho got what he deserved, and he was with Ash. He was with Ash and I wasn’t. I didn’t like that.
“Been better,” Declan said, his hands on his lap beneath the table. “Also been worse.” Whatever sadness he would’ve held because of his father’s death was nullified due to the fact his father had killed Sabrina. A beat passed between us before he asked, “How are you?”
I knew Declan didn’t really care how I was, but I answered anyway, “Same.”
He leaned back in his seat, examining me studiously, as if he thought this was all some trick. I couldn’t blame him for being suspicious; I’d done so much to him in the last year, so his trust was not something that would just appear overnight.
Or, you know, during one meeting.
“I assume you wanted to meet to talk about Ash,” Declan hedged, quick to get to the point.
Nodding once, I said, “Yes, and you. I need to…” Oh, fuck. This was extremely awkward, wasn’t it? Me, Sawyer Salvatore, apologizing, saying I was wrong. I honestly never thought I’d see a day like this. “I need to tell you that I was wrong.”
Declan blinked. “Obviously.”
I let out a sigh. “I mean, I know I was wrong. I knew it before I left. I…I jumped to conclusions without seeing the evidence, and I blamed you for something you didn’t do.”
“I loved Sabrina, and I was your friend. You should’ve known I never would’ve hurt her,” Declan stated. His brows came together, and he looked away, staring out of the window beside us. The entire north side of the union was a wall of windows, allowing an abundance of natural light to come in. “You made my life a living hell—and that was when I needed my friends the most.”
Running a hand through my hair, I couldn’t argue with a single word he said. “I know. I fucked up, Declan.”
“And now you’re here, wanting to talk to me, to apologize—but only because of Ash.” Declan leveled his dark stare with mine. He was worlds more confident than he was six months ago, and I knew his transformation was mainly due to Ash. “Be honest: would you be here apologizing if it weren’t for her?”
His question stunned me, mostly because I hadn’t anticipated him asking a question like that. I mean, what the fuck was I supposed to say? I wanted Ash, I’d do anything for Ash. Ash, Ash, Ash. I sounded like Travis, obsessed and mindless when it came to her.
The answer to his question…was no.
No, I wouldn’t be here if Ash wasn’t in the picture. Hell, I’d probably be lost, either drunk or high in a puddle of my own piss if she wasn’t around. Was this for Ash? Yes, it was. One hundred fucking percent.
“No,” I answered honestly, watching as Declan gave me a slight frown. “I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for Ash, but it doesn’t change the fact that I’m here, or what I need to say.”
Declan didn’t get up, didn’t try to walk away; he stared at me, keeping to his silence.
“I’m sorry, man, for everything. I know it doesn’t mean shit now, and I know words can’t undo everything I did, everything I said—” I paused before adding, “Everything I got other people to do…”
“You’ve done a lot,” Declan muttered.
“Yeah, I have, which is why I know that this—” I gestured between us. “—isn’t easy, for either of us. You have every right to hate me for the shit I put you through.” Shrugging, I added, “If it makes you feel any better, I hate myself too, most days. That’s a Salvatore secret you won’t hear anywhere else.” Sarcasm didn’t exactly fit in the current conversation, but I had to say that last part anyways.
My family…sucked ass even before Sabrina died.
Being a Salvatore was not all it was cracked up to be, trust me.
“Self-hatred has always been your thing,” Declan muttered, leaning forward onto the table. His fingers toyed with the sleeves of his jacket. “Mine too, I guess.”
