Page 11

Chapter 11

Scarlett

“Can we leave the conclusion until Monday?” I ask Tabitha, suppressing a yawn. “I’m running on E.”

Tabitha sighs wearily, running her finger over the touchpad. “Yeah, me too. I need the entire weekend to recover from the week I’ve had, and by ‘recover’ I mean getting some quality time with my boyfriend.”

With a quirked brow, I take in her earth-tone tunic and maxi skirt, then the headband that unsuccessfully tempers her wild brown hair. I remember her dating an older guy, but they broke up in March over what I suspect was her being too weird. “You have a new boyfriend?”

“What, does that surprise you?” She shuts down the laptop with an amused smirk. “I might be cuckoo as they say, but I’ve got a pussy. Boys don’t care how you look once you’ve got one.”

“I doubt that’s true. I’ve got a pussy, and no one wants to screw me,” I reply dryly.

Well, except for that one time in high school. Charlie Black . He was an even bigger nerd than me with a dick that did not match his bulky figure. Losing my virginity was the most disappointing experience I’ve ever had. I think it traumatized me into being celibate. At least, until last year when for the first time, I felt a genuine attraction to someone. Not that he’d ever look my way.

“Maybe they would, if you’d relax your facial features and wear clothes that actually fit,” she advises. “I don’t know if anyone ever told you, but you’re beautiful.”

“Aww, thanks Tabitha.” This is probably the deepest conversation we’ve had since she first approached me. “I appreciate it.”

She smiles back. “If you ever want some makeover tips, you know where to find me.”

I give her figure a once-over. “Yeah, I’ll remember that.”

“Well, see you on Monday—” Her smile vanishes as she gasps. “Oh, God.”

“What?”

“A terrible omen. I can feel it in my bones,” she whispers, eyes going wide.

Christ . Just when I thought things were getting normal. “Okay, I get it. I’ll be careful.”

Her grip tightens on my arm. “This isn’t a joke, Scarlett. I’m sensing danger all around you. Something akin to…” her gaze coasts into the distance and she gasps again, “…death.”

My stomach flips. I ease my hand from Tabitha’s grasp, stepping away from her while shaking off the heaviness from her eerie statement. “If you’re trying to scare me, congrats,” I huff, grabbing my bag. “Get some rest, Tabitha. You need it.”

“And you need to watch your back!” she calls after me.

I give her a backward wave and hurry out of the library. Goosebumps still cover my arms as I make my way down the front steps. Damn you, Tabitha for rattling me.

Arriving at the bike stand, I stop, gaping at the spot where my bike had been. Dad had called in a favor at his friend’s tire shop, who made quick work of replacing the damaged ones.

Now, it’s gone.

In its place is a shiny replacement—red, my favorite color.

Glancing furtively around me, I inch toward it, tentatively reaching for the note attached to the handlebar.

Saying I’m sorry wasn’t enough.

There’s no signature, but it’s not needed. Simple words, but quite loaded. I press the note to my chest with a soft sigh. It seems that monstrous asshole has a conscience, after all.

Someone calls my name and I glance behind me. My entire body freezes in shock as he comes dashing toward me, an uncharacteristic smile on his face.

“Hey, Scarlett.”

I stare at him dumbly.

Noah smiles even harder. “This is the point where you say, ‘Hey Noah.’”

“What do you want?” I ask, crossing my arms over my breasts.

He jams both hands in his pockets, his expression turning sheepish. “For starters, I want to apologize for everything.”

My jaw slackens.

“Aiden had a talk with the team, saying how wrong he was to blame you for the whole snitching thing, that you were innocent. I actually believe him.”

My shoulders relax. Aiden said the same thing to me. I didn’t believe that he’d meant it, but for him to be vulnerable with the team and admit to being wrong—plus replacing my bike, is a positive sign.

“I’m sorry about that incident with the jerseys,” he continues. “That was truly disgusting of me.”

“It was.” I scoff at him. “Bye.”

“Wait!” He grips the handlebar as I climb onto the bike. “Scarlett, I mean every word.”

“I’m sure you do, Noah. It doesn’t mean I have to forgive you,” I throw back, staring pointedly at his grip on the bike.

“Tell me how to fix this and I’ll do it.”

I sigh. “Why is my forgiveness so important? You didn’t care about my feelings while torturing me.”

Noah throws up his hands. “I just want to start over, get back on Aiden’s good side.”

Perking up, I ask. “What do you mean, ‘get on his good side’?”

“He’s still pissed at me for that stunt I pulled. He almost went crazy knowing I put my hands on you,” he explains. He glances around cautiously, then leans in. “I think he has a thing for you.”

A loud laugh escapes from my mouth. Noah stares at me with confusion. “What?”

“I almost believed you just now,” I reply, twisting the handle to pedal from the spot. “What is the prank this time, Noah? I fall for those words, then you convince me to meet Aiden somewhere and then what, you make me do something dumb that the entire school will laugh about the next day, am I right?”

“Not even close, Scarlett.” He rushes forward, blocking my way. “Aiden isn’t even aware that he likes you. It’s just my own observation.”

His expression seems honest, but I’m still not interested in trusting it.

“Look, Aiden means a lot to me and I just want to fix what is broken between us. That is not your problem, I know, but I just want to start afresh—look, if you need a public apology, I’ll give you one.”

A public apology would confirm that he’s really sincere. “You know what, Noah? I’ll take it. You can tag me on Instagram when you’re done.”

“Cameron is having a party at his place tomorrow. Half the seniors will be there. I could do it then.”

I shake my head. “I don’t do parties.”

He pulls the phone from my jacket pocket. Ignoring my protest, he types something in it. “Here’s Cameron’s address if you change your mind.”

I stare down at the address on my phone as he walks away. A huge part of me wants to delete it. The minor side believes he’s being honest. Maybe my bravado gave the team a wakeup call and they now realize I’m no pushover. Afterall, didn’t their captain approach me with an apology, too?

Blowing out a breath, I tuck the phone in my pocket and continue on my way.

***

“You’re going,” Theresa says, dumping a pile of laundry on her couch.

Sitting crossed-legged on the living room carpet, I give my sister a narrow-eyed look. “Says who?”

“Says me and your non-existent social life,” she replies. “You’re twenty-two years old. It’s time to put those books away, let that beautiful hair down and have some fun.”

“Contrary to what you might think, there is fun in books,” I counter, taking the handful of clothes she hands me, while giving her another narrow-eyed look. When I decided to hang out at my sister’s home for a bit, manual labor wasn’t what I had in mind. “Besides, did you hear anything I said before?”

Theresa nods, her shoulder-length blonde hair bouncing on her shoulders. “The boys bullied you for something you didn’t do, now they’re sorry,” she says with a shrug.

“That’s all you heard. Wow.” Scoffing, I fold my nephew’s blanket, then rest it on the center table.

“No, but that’s it in a nutshell, right? They did a terrible thing and are trying to make up for it by inviting you to a party.”

“Noah invited me to the party, not all of them.” Definitely not Aiden. Maybe I wouldn’t be so hesitant if their captain had invited me.

“I’m sure they all want you there. You did mention he gave you the hardest time out of everyone, so I wouldn’t worry about the others. If Noah could see the error of his ways, then so has everyone.”

“And if he hasn’t seen the error of his ways, what then?” I ask. “What if this is a ploy to lure me in?”

“To do what?”

I shrug, reaching for another piece of laundry. “I don’t know… dump eggs on me or something.”

Theresa shakes her head. “You said Cameron was always defending you; wouldn’t Noah think twice about attacking you during a party at his house?”

She does have a point, but I’m still hesitant. “I have nothing to wear to a party, anyway.”

My sister grins. “That, my dear, is the least of your problems.” She stands, grabbing my arm. “Let’s go.”

I allow her to yank me into the bedroom she shares with her husband and my eight-month-old nephew, Georgie, who’s fast asleep on the double bed. Theresa presses her finger to her lips, and I nod, then tiptoe with her past the dresser, stopping at the small closet. Theresa rummages inside and soon pulls out a black dress with thin straps, flashing it at me. I shake my head.

“Take it,” she whispers.

I shake my head again and she pushes it at my chest. “It’s going to look so good on you.”

“It’s your dress. It won’t fit,” I whisper back, but I still hold on to it. She nudges me toward the door and on the way, grabs a compact bag from the dresser. It contains foundation, face powder, mascara and lipstick, some of which she hands to me as we settle into the living room.

“What am I supposed to do with these?” I ask, twisting the base of the lipstick with a frown.

“Wear it, just like you’ll be wearing that dress,” she says.

I lift the garment to eye level. “It looks stretchy, but I doubt it will fit.”

“What are you talking about? We’re literally the same size,” Theresa points out.

“No, we’re not,” I scoff disbelievingly.

She gapes at me, then stands and spreads her arms. “Get up.”

Rolling my eyes, I stand.

“Do you not see this when you look in the mirror after a shower?” She runs her hands down her curvy figure clad in boy shorts and a tank top.

“I don’t look in the mirror.”

“Even after losing all that weight?”

“Nope.”

“Oh, sweetie,” she clicks her tongue. “I wish you would, because then you’d see how beautiful that body is.”

“You’re gassing me up,” I grumble, sitting back down. “I’m still fat.”

“You’re curvy,” she corrects. “Just like me.”

“I look nothing like you.”

“Are you kidding me?” She dips and takes up the dress, then dumps it on me. “Go try it on.”

Her expression tells me there’s no use arguing, so I grab the dress and make my way to the bathroom, sweating like buckets by the time I get out of the confined space with the dress clinging to my body.

“Oh, wow,” Theresa breathes as I close the bathroom door behind me. “It fits even better than I thought.”

“Whatever.”

She gives me a dry look, then pushes me into the bedroom and before the mirror on the wall. “Judge for yourself.”

I attempt to close my eyes, but the reflection staring back leaves me gaping for a hot minute. I knew how much weight I’d lost after developing an eating disorder right after my surgery, but I had no clue it was so drastic. The dress hugs my curvy hips and tapers at my waist that looks so small and cinched. I’ve always had big boobs, but they look so voluptuous now, almost spilling from the neckline.

“You look absolutely gorgeous,” Theresa whispers.

Staring at myself from head to toe, I definitely agree. Heads would definitely turn if I show up to Cameron’s party in this outfit.

The only head I’d want to turn is Aiden’s.

I suddenly yank down the straps, perturbed by that thought. I don’t want Aiden’s head to do anything. All I want is for him to pretend like I don’t exist.

“What?” Theresa asks, frowning at my sudden movement. I pull the dress down my hips before it occurs that I’d left my clothes in the bathroom.

“I’m not going.”

Theresa sighs. “Okay, but keep the dress and makeup, in case you change your mind.” She squeezes my shoulder. “I understand how shitty people have been to you, but don’t let the past stop you from enjoying the present. If there’s even a tiny part of you that wants to go, you should consider it. You deserve to have fun, Scar.”

“I know.”

While changing my clothes, I consider what she just said. Maybe it’s time to stop denying myself the right to have fun. I should learn to let go for a change—with caution, of course. Cameron is a decent guy. I’m sure his house will be a safe zone.

Easing out of the bathroom, I give my sister a yielding smile. “Show me how to put that makeup on.”