Page 34 of Riot Rules
I’m sick.
I’m depraved.
I’m categorically, absolutely, positively boned. If I can’t get my shit together, my whole life is going to unravel, and it won’t be some majestic, impressive unraveling. It’ll be one solitary thread, fraying and snapping in a really stupid way. The cops will drag me back to Grove Hill quicker than you can yell, ‘homicide.’ I’ll have plenty of time to think about Dash’s corded, strong forearms after that, when I’m in jail for the murder of a skeevy fucking heroin dealer.
Regroup, Carina. For fuck’s sake, get a handle on your shit, girl.
I look up and he’s watching me. For the first time since we ran into each other in that E.R. room, he’s looking at me and I don’t see hostility in his eyes. “Carrie—” He swallows. “Look, I don’t know what Wren’s playing at, okay, but I’ll do my best. I’ll make sure he stays the hell away from you. But you’ve got to do one thing for me in return.”
“What?” I whisper, because anything above a whisper will feel like sacrilege; this unexpected tension that’s mounting between us is climbing fast, and I wouldn’t want to do anything to make it worse.
“You’vegot to stay the hell away fromme.”
He has said this over and over, but this is the first time that it actually stings. The posturing and arrogance is missing. There is only the soft, shifting color of his eyes as the light hits his irises through the windows to his right. The color reminds me of the sea—so changeable, bright and crystalline one second, dark and moody the next. I’ve harbored such anger toward him the past couple of weeks, that this sudden shift in…everything…is making my head spin. I can’t breathe around it. I can’t get out from underneath it. He has me trapped.
“I’m not saying that because I don’t—” He rips his gaze away. “Seems like all I do is warn you how badly you’re gonna get hurt if you don’t give me a wide berth, Mendoza. But no matter how shitty I am to you, you don’t seem to be paying any fucking attention. Why is that? I’m trying to save you—”
“Stop.”
He looks back at me. His eyes shutter.
“Stop trying to save me, for fuck’s sake. Just… I want you to berealwith me. That’s all I’ve wanted from the beginning. Everything’s a front with you. An argument. A game. A lie. I’m so sick of it. I just want the truth. I just want…I just wantyou.” I blush furiously, because the truth of that statement is so overwhelming and terrifying that I want to run and hide from it. I want to back-peddle and explain that I don’t want him. Not likethat. What I meant to say was that I just want some sincerity from him, and a glimpse at who he really is. Nothing more. Nothing less. I stop myself from stumbling awkwardly through that bare faced lie only because I saw how hypocritical I would be if I were to say it. Idowant him like that. And if I can’t be real or honest with him, at least on thisonesmall thing, then what right do I have to sit here and ream him out for not giving me the same courtesy?
Dashiell’s eyes bore into mine for a long time. It’s as though we’re coming to some silent agreement but there are still things that need to be ironed out. The muscle in his jaw feathers, a muscle popping in his temple. He just sits there, so clearly conflicted.
Somewhere behind us in the stacks, Mrs. Lambeth starts singing off key.
Suddenly, Dash is speaking. He spins his pen over his index finger. “My father is the biggest piece of shit to walk the face of this planet. He’s a duke—”
“Wait. But you’re a lord?”
“The sons of dukes are lords until their fathers die and they inherit the title. That’s not the important part. My father is a fuckingduke. Do you have any idea what kind of pressure that puts on a person? He has my whole future planned out for me. Once I’m done at Wolf Hall, I’ll be banished to Oxford, where I’ll have to study politics and world economics just like he did. Then I’ll have to become a cabinet minister, just like he did, too. Have you ever heard the term,you can’t pour from an empty cup, Carrie?”
I’m not sure where he’s going with this. “Yes?”
“My parents’ cups were empty before I was even born. My mother had a sister, Penny. She was really beautiful. She was my father’s first wife, and he loved her so much. They were married for seven years but then she got sick and died. My father married my mum because they both thought it would make them feel better somehow. It didn’t. Their hearts were still broken. It didn’t make anything better. So they figured,I know, let’s have a kid!That’llsolve all our problems.” He laughs bitterly. “Icome along, on New Year’s Day, their miracle baby. And guess what? Do I take after him? No. Do I look like her?” He shakes his head. “I’m born, and through no fault of my own, through some fucking shitty genetic lottery, I wind up looking exactly likeher. Fucking Penny. The aunt I never even knew. It’s uncanny, it really is. I’ll show you a picture someday. I have been punished every day of my life and had the shit beaten out of me for something that had absolutely nothing to do with me. I amnota good person.”
“Dash—”
He shakes his head again. “I’m an empty cup, Carina. There’s nothing of any value in here.” He thumps his fist against his chest. “My parents are dead inside, and so am I. It’s what I came from. It’s who I was taught to be. Whoever you’re looking for me to be…whatever you’re hoping I might be able to give you…I’m not him. I’m not that guy. I just…can’t.”
I stare at him so hard; it feels as though I’m staring right through him. His eyes, his nose, his mouth, his hair, the way his grey shirt pulls taut across his chest, and the way he smells like mint and rain. I remember the way he groaned when he kissed me on top of Pax’s car, and I remember the way his heart hammered in his chest, and I know that he’s not telling the truth. I exhale slowly, sit up straight, and say, “Liar.”
“Excuseme?”
He was expecting me to buy that whole spiel, hook, line and sinker. Dashiell Lovett is nowhere near as emotionally stunted as he wants me to believe him to be.
“I made it up, then?” He glowers at me. “My aunt isn’t dead? My parents aren’t assholes?”
“Oh, I’m sure your parentsareassholes. You had to learn how to be an absolute dick from someone, and you’resogood at it, Dash. You must have perfected that skill at a very early age. I believe your aunt’s dead, too. But you feel things, Dash. Youhurt. Youwant. Youneed. Youcare.”
At this last statement, he recoils away from me like he’s just been stung. It must have hurt pretty bad from the way he starts slinging his books into his bag. “Goddamnit, Mendoza. You really talk some shit. Sit here and ruminate on all of your fantasies until Monday morning for all I care. Detention’s over and I have somewhere to be. I’m out.”
“Riiiight.” What is this guy’s deal? He was harsher than hell last night. Zero fucks given. He brushed me off like I was nothing. Now, he’s fleeing the library like I’ve just kicked his puppy and he’s off for a good cry.
Lord Lovett turns, walking hurriedly toward the emergency exit that leads to the fire escape. Even if there’s little hope that it’ll work, I need to try one last time and get him to talk to his housemates. “Fine. Call off the wolves, Dash. I mean it. I’ll give you what you want. I’ll stay out of your way. You’ll never have to see my face again!”
He pauses, but he doesn’t look back. I have no reason to believe that he’s going to try and help me, but I have to hope. If I don’t, then I might as well leave Wolf Hall tonight. Alderman could have a car here for me within the hour if I needed one.
