Page 124 of Bred
I crack a smile. I don’t take offense to her calling the dress ugly because it’s not mine to begin with.
A couple of weeks ago, this awful girl Dakota was outside trying to talk to Lucas when he came to pick me up from school. She knew he was my boyfriend, but she was trying to flirt with him, anyway. He ignored her and a slow smirk crossed his face when he saw me. Just to emphasize how thoroughly mine he was, he pulled me in, slid his calloused hand up to cradle the back of my neck, and kissed me so hard, gooseflesh erupted across my skin.
Obviously, I fell even more in love with him.
Unfortunately, Dakota didn’t appreciate his disinterest in her. She’s a spoiled brat used to always getting whatever she wants, and since she couldn’t have him, she started spreading horrific rumors about us, saying he started sleeping with me when I was underage and that he was a pervert. I was horrified and told her to stop, but Hailey took it ten steps further.
When Dakota didn’t quit her shit and the rumors only intensified, Hailey skipped school one day, went to Dakota’s house, and fucked her father. On her way out, she slipped into Dakota’s bedroom and snatched the prom dress she had been gushing about for weeks right out of her closet.
I was stunned, horrified, and a little impressed when she came home, tossed the glittery mass of wine-red tulle across my bed and told me what she did.
“You slept with her dad?”
Hailey shrugged. “It didn’t suck. He was kinky. Tied me up, blindfolded me. A good time was had by all.”
“You don’t need to get out your baseball bat, Harley,” I tell her.
“Are you sure? You aren’t supposed to be at home, and here you are crying in your prom dress, clutching his T-shirt as if your life depends on it.”
I shake my head, looking down at the lump of beloved fabric. “I’m fine, I just don’t want to talk about it. I need to be alone right now,” I add, glancing over at her apologetically.
“No problem,” she says easily. “Just let me know if you need anything.”
“Actually, before you go, can you help me with this zipper? Bristol offered and I told her no, but now the stupid thing is stuck.”
“Of course.” She comes into the room, and I turn, moving my hair so she has unobstructed access to the zipper. “If you change your mind about that baseball bat, just let me know.”
Despite my sadness, I crack a smile. “Thanks.”
When Hailey leaves my room, I close the bedroom door so no one else can surprise me. I strip off my prom dress and change into his T-shirt, then I grab my phone hoping there will be a text message or a missed call from him, but there isn’t.
I’m tired from crying, from being sick, probably even just from thebugI seem to have caught. I pull back the wool blanket on my bed and climb underneath. I try so hard not to think about the night Lucas snuck in here and climbed beneath the blankets with me, but all I can focus on is the absence of his weight between my thighs. Memories of his skin beneath my fingers and the way his grizzled jaw line felt against my face. I remember tenderly caressing his face and the loving look in his eyes before he leaned down to kiss me.
I tell myself I am being absurd to feel so sad when everything is surely fine. I would know if something was wrong. I would’ve noticed if he didn’t want to be with me anymore, and there were no signs, nothing to make me think that.
The last time I saw him, he still looked at me the same way. He still looked at me as if I were someone he loved.
He hasn’t actually told me that he loves me, but I know he does. I can feel it in the way he looks at me.
My eyelids are so heavy they feel like blankets over my eyes, so I let them close for a moment. The sound is on, so I’ll hear my phone if he calls me or if he texts. I don’t even plug in the charger and put my phone on the end table, I keep it right beside me on the bed.
Absently, my hands slide down to cradle my still-flat tummy.
I know he will call or come over.
I know he will have an explanation.
Everything will be all right.
It has to be.
I’m still tired when my eyes drift open, but I am startled to find my bedroom is bright and it is clearly morning.
I gasp softly, feeling around for my phone. It’s on the mattress, wedged beneath my back. I grab it and see a notification on the display. A missed text.
It’s just from Bristol.
I try not to feel disappointed, but it’s impossible. My brow furrows because there must be some mistake. It’s almost 10 AM and I do not have a single missed phone call or text message from Lucas.
