Page 140 of Chaos

“Yes, Alexandra.” Huffing a humorless laugh, I snatch my bag from the booth, leaving my phone on the table so I don’t have to suffer the inconvenience of ignoring it for the next hour. “That’s exactly what happened.”

“Where’re you going?”

I don’t tell her. I don’t know. I can, however, assure her that, “I’ll be home soon.”

She protests, Grace protests, Eliza and Yasmin and I think even fucking Alex, I thinkCaroline, call after me, but I don’t look back as I stride towards the exit again. I don’t stop until, right as I’m stepping outside, someone makes me stop.

Beyond murmuring that damn nickname that freezes me in place, Finn doesn’t say anything. He just waits, quiet and patient, for me to explain myself.

But the only thing I want to clear up? “He’s not my boyfriend.”

“I believe you.” He shifts, puffing his goddamn chest as he crosses his arms. “That’s him, isn’t it? Yourfriendwho left you.”

I follow his gaze to the dickhead leaning against his car—to the dumbass who has the audacity to waggle his fingers in a cheeky-ass greeting, like I’m not already one wrong move away from strangling him.

I don’t confirm, but I do make sure Finn knows, “He’s not even my friend either. None of them are.”

“Then why are you going with them?”

“I have to.”

Swallowing deeply, Finn palms the nape of his neck. “I’ve got a bad feeling about this.”

Ditto.“I gotta go.”

“Lottie.” He catches me by the forearm. “Don’t.”

The force behind the command—the fact that he’s commanding me at all—hits just the wrong spot. At the just thewrong time. In just the wrong mood. “A couple makeout sessions doesn’t mean you get to tell me what to do.”

My hissed tone has him sucking in a sharp, surprised breath, has his face falling with confusion. “I’m not telling you. I’m asking you.”

I shake him off. “Don’t do that either.”

“Then let me come with you.”

“No.” God, that defeats the whole purpose. “What, you think I’m gonna trip and fall into bed with him?”

“I didn’t say that.”

He didn'tnotsay that. Hedoesn'tnot say that. He doesn't deny it, doesn't reassure me otherwise, doesn't do anything to ease the knot growing in my chest, festering until the space behind my eyes itch.

He doesn’t trust me. No one trusts me. Everyone assumes the worst of me, I can see it on their faces, the doubt and the distrust and the complete lack of faith that I can, in fact, be a decent fucking human for once.

With a bitter laugh, I back up a couple of steps, shaking my head. “See. I knew it. Bad idea.”

“What’re you talking about?”

“This morning never should’ve happened. I don’t know what I was thinking.”Stop,something screams at me.Shut up, shut up, shut up.“You can wish all you want, Finn, but you’re not my boyfriend. Stop acting like one.”

Another one of those breaths. More of that confusion, coupled with disbelief, withfrustration. “Don’t do this, Charlotte.”

“Do what?”

“You’re upset and you’re taking it out on me.”

“I’m irritated,” I correct, “andI’mwishing I could rewind about twelve hours and leave your drunk ass at the wedding.”

Finn stumbles. He physically fucking stumbles like I pushed him, and I did, I guess. With pointy, spat words that I can’t take back, I don’t have time to fix because Ricky is a malicious presence looming only a few feet away. Staring daggers in our direction and emanating a rank, vindictive energy that scares the ever-loving fuck out of me.

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