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Chapter Sixteen

Koda

The keys showed up with Alexi a few days after break ended. Sure enough, the car was in the parking lot. Ashland asked him to drive it over, I guess. I’ve avoided every single place I thought she might go. It’s not that I don’t want to see her, it’s that it’ll be easier if she doesn’t see me. I made things difficult for her, and I did it on purpose.

I don’t regret coming back and getting her out of that party. I never will. Her little body looked almost lifeless on the floor. Smith didn’t even know she was still there. A while ago I granted myself unlimited access to her phone and started sharing her location with me. That’s how I knew where she was. I was filled with so much rage, but she needed someone. I made it be me. Somehow it all fell apart so quickly. The Cunts of the Century know how to fill you up, and they take it all with them when they go. You grieve the loss of them.

Every day that passes I feel the rejection as strong as it was the day that she left my condo. I've tried to go back to how it was—groupies sucking my dick. It’s what I should have been doing anyway. I don’t even bother with niceties anymore. If you want to talk then I’ll shut you up. It’s irritating having to kick every single bitch out of my place, but I refuse to wish for days when one left on her own.

The first time I had Stephanie back over I almost tried to fuck her. I made the mistake of pulling her hair and shoving my dick in her throat, and she cried about it. Not the pretty slut tears that she had, but ugly ones. After that, I just forced her to half-ass suck my dick and focused on getting off, and that hasn’t happened unless I do it myself. I can’t even use my imagination to pretend she’s someone else. Every time I think maybe I will finally break Ashland’s curse and finish, it won’t happen and I get angry, kicking whoever is there out without remorse.

Every time I start to think about her, I go for a run or hit the gym. It’s only been two weeks and the change in my form is apparent. Coach keeps telling me to stop, but he doesn’t understand that I can’t. The alternative would be acknowledging that the one person I finally gave into didn’t want me. It shouldn’t make me feel like this, but it does anyways.

I try to limit my knowledge about her, and I think Alexi already knew something was more than wrong. Maybe she told him. I don’t fucking care. He doesn’t bring her up, and that’s all that matters to me. Some of the guys have. They see her around. I tend to work them harder after hearing that. It’s not right. They don’t know. I never exactly explained her purpose, and I can’t take it back now. If I had, maybe things would be different.

I want to hate her so badly. I want my entire body to be repulsed by her, but I’m not. I caught sight of her one afternoon on the quad, and that felt like being set on fire. She walked with that asshole, Cole, and they were drinking coffee and laughing. Real fucking chummy. Guess she came crawling back after all. He certainly jumped on the opportunity as soon as I was out of the picture. Played by the pussy.

On my way out of the locker room today, I managed to hear two of the guys discussing a party. I’ve avoided them since our split, but at this point I want to go. I hope she shows up. I hate that I want to see her.

“ You’re going to the party?” Alexi asks. He’s masking whatever he’s thinking.

“Yeah, with Stephanie. Is that a problem?”

He leans against the door frame as I pull a shirt over my head. “It’s just that it’s possible Penny goes.”

“And?”

He chews on the inside of his cheek for a moment before he responds. “Because of Penny’s best fucking friend.”

“What’s your point? I don’t see why that even matters.”

I just want to see Ashland fucking around with someone else. Then I can move on.

“Oh please.” Alexi rolls his eyes. “Ashland, dude. Ashland is going to be there. Go to any other party, but not this one. I know you two stopped fucking. Believe me, it shows, but you don’t have to do this. She hasn’t been out since that night we got her from Smith’s, and now you’re trying to ruin it out of some weird unexplained vendetta.”

“I don’t have a vendetta,” I say lightly. “Good for her.”

“Then don’t fucking go, man. Come on.”

“What are you so worried about? We were just fuck buddies, that’s all. It’s a party.”

Alexi gives me an exasperated growl. “Just don’t start shit, alright? Stay away from her.”

I tilt my head, studying him. “Suddenly protective of her?”

“Are you accusing me of sleeping with her?” he asks incredulously.

“Are you?” I smirk. “Everyone else is. It’s not a big deal.”

“Sounds pretty judgmental coming from a dude who had some groupie suck his dick, then kicked her out twenty minutes ago, so he can go to a party with a girl he considers his mortal enemy, that he also used to fuck, with another girl who sucks his dick.”

“Sue me.” I put my hat on my head backwards and clap my hand on Alexi’s shoulder. “Come on. Don’t wanna keep Stephanie waiting.”

When we arrive, the party is already in full swing.

“Koda!” A girl squeals, jumping on me. Stephanie and her god awful fucking lip stick. “Oh. My. God. This place is crazy.” She's wearing a summer dress, and it just fucking annoys me. It’s almost winter.

“Looks like it,” I respond, bored already by her company.

We usually don’t let the groupies into these parties, but I want to make Ashland realize that I don’t care if she happens to show up.

I catch sight of two of our teammates and wave them over. They’re more than happy to oblige when they see who I’m with. We head inside and the place is packed. From the front door I scan the crowd. Stephanie tugs at me to pay attention to her, but I shrug her off. Ashland is nowhere to be found, so I post up in a corner where I can see the front door. The second she walks in and I see Cole trailing her, I want to explode.

She still takes my fucking breath away. I can smell the blackberries from here. Her pink hair is on top of her head in two buns. She speaks with her hands, animated. I can’t tell if I’m angry, horny, or fucking desperate for her attention because it isn’t being given to me. She laughs, taking Cole’s bicep, and lets him lead her through the crowd.

I hate him. I hate them. I hate everyone at this fucking party. I hate that I can’t stop staring at her.

“I need a drink,” Stephanie whines.

“Then get one,” I snap.

“Whatever.” She pouts and stomps away.

I move further into the crowd, angling myself to get a better view of Ashland. She’s wearing a cropped tank top, her stomach on full display, and fucking shorts. She has a new tattoo covering her entire knee. Something about it strikes me as sinister, and I can tell she did it herself. She turns to Cole and says something that makes him laugh.

I can’t watch anymore. Not without several drinks. I head in the direction I saw Stephanie storm off to and find her with the other guys at the bar. I grab a bottle of the first thing I see.

“I’m sorry about earlier,” I apologize to her, with a charming grin. It’s the emptiest apology of all fucking time.

Her anger from earlier bleeds away, and she smiles at me. “Hey, it’s okay. You’re stressed out.” She runs her hand along my arm and I want to shove her, but I don’t.

Our group moves toward the room where I saw Cole fucking flirting with Ashland. I want him to know that I know he got into her head. I know what the fuck he said to her. He’s the entire reason she left that day. When we come in they don’t even look in our direction. Has he seen the parts of her that I have?

No one seems to notice they’re there except for Alexi. He abandons us. I can tell he’s pissed, but he can suck it up. Stephanie and her friends make a big show of touching all over each other trying to dance. Cole whispers something in Ashland’s ear and leans against the wall with an easy smile. He has fucking dimples. How had I never noticed before? It’s jarring. Then he touches her arm. That mother fucker.

“Dance with me.” Stephanie pulls at the bottom of my shirt. I shove her hands away. She’s a little annoyed, but lets it go, turning back to her friends to try to figure out how else to get my attention. “Here. I got you a drink. Loosen up.” She hands me a beer.

I don’t thank her, in fact, I don’t say a word. Cole walks out of the room, leaving Ashland behind with Alexi, and they disappear out of the front door. He’s trying to get her away from me. So, I follow Cole. He pushes his way through the crowd, saying hi to people in a way that says he’s been here many times before. I walk up behind him and push him into the bar as soon as he gets a drink in his hands, spilling it everywhere. He turns to say something and freezes.

I’ve never had an ‘oh shit’ moment that wasn’t mine, but I’m reveling in the fact that Cole is having one now. He composes himself. “Koda? Good to see you.”

“Cole?” I pretend to be surprised. “What are you doing here?”

“Just here with Ash,” he answers smugly.

I flash him a smile. “Yeah? Wanted to use my pocket pussy?”

He nervously glances in the direction he left her. He didn’t realize that I fucking knew. “Right.”

“Let’s get you another drink,” I continue the ruse.

He looks at me, his mind made up. “You’re the one who used her. I’m there for her.”

“Weird. You abandoned her after making her feel like shit. Then she was drugged.”

“Listen, dude.”

“I don’t want your excuses, bro,” I dismiss him.

“Excuses? What do I need to excuse?”

What the fuck?

“Your atrocious behavior? You insinuated that she owes you sex.”

“That wasn’t what I meant." He glares at me. “I worry about her, not that you would get that.”

Anger simmers below the surface. It's been ages since I’ve fought someone, but I can feel it on the horizon tonight. It’s long overdue.

“You’re not special, Cole,” I smirk.

He looks around quickly, surveying the people around us. “Dude, just leave her alone. You’ve done enough.”

“I’m honestly surprised you would want my sloppy seconds.”

That's what gets him angry. He clenches his fist around a water bottle. “You’re a fucking dick, Armory. A fucking narcissistic prick. I see why she cut you out of her life. You fucking fed off of her pain like a goddamn succubus instead of taking one step back to see that she’s…she’s…” He doesn’t finish what he was going to say because Stephanie chooses that very fucking moment to appear.

“Oh my gosh,” she giggles. “I thought I lost you.”

Cole smirks then looks at me, shaking his head in disappointment. “You will never fucking change. I’m warning you. Stay away from Ashland.” Then he addresses Stephanie. “Have fun riding his dick until he kicks you out.”

Cole starts to move away. He almost makes it back to the living room, but I catch up and shove him into several people. Stephanie follows me, fretting and saying my name over and over again, but I’m blinded by fucking rage.

“Fuck you! You’re just a fucking replacement for me.”

“What are you talking about?” Stephanie hisses.

Cole laughs. “A replacement? Is this some sort of joke? You have to have a place for someone else to take it.”

There’s no stopping my fist when it slams into his cheek, but he was prepared. Instead of falling to the floor like anyone should, he lunges at me. His fist connects with my side, knocking the wind out of me. I slam my forehead into his mouth, and he punches me in the jaw. We keep grappling until we’re outside in the front yard. I don’t hear Stephanie screeching or anyone else’s shouts. It’s when Alexi and Barnes, along with two other players, drag us away from each other that I realize the whole place is quiet.

Cole finally shrugs them off, glaring at me, and wipes his mouth, smearing blood across his face. I spit the metallic substance from my mouth.

“What the fuck, Cole?” Ashland shoves him. “Why are you fighting?”

She smacks him in the chest and then pulls his face down to hers, inspecting the injuries. His lip is split and there’s already a bruise forming around his eye. Blood trickles down from his temple. His attention focuses on her, and I’ve never seen someone look so fucking sorry in all of their life.

I’m still huffing, ready for another round. “Hey there, baby girl.”

Her body goes rigid, but she doesn’t look in my direction. I realize Alexi is standing next to her. “I told you I shouldn’t have come, Lex.”

Lex. How fucking cute.

“I know. I know. I’m sorry,” he profusely apologizes.

The angry words spill from my tongue. “You’re still a slut, just like I left you.”

There’s a collective gasp and she finally turns, looking at me with those teal eyes, but they’re wrong. They’re angry, truly irrevocably angry. She storms over to me and comes toe to toe. I don’t see the girl that I spent all of those months with or even the girl that said she hated me. There’s no sign of the girl that I’ve been spending weeks avoiding. It’s as if my words didn’t even affect her.

“I hate you,” I sneer, waiting for a visceral reaction.

She takes a step back and laughs. She laughs at me. Ashland laughs so hard that she doubles over. She carefully wipes a condescending tear from her eye. “That’s cute, Ko.”

I don’t like the way it sounds. It’s not hidden affection, but callous. Unfamiliar. She turns on her heel and leaves without another word. I notice Alexi waiting at a car with the passenger door open. He shuts it once she’s inside and gives us both a glare before getting in and driving off.

Sirens ring out, and police lights echo over us. Two officers approach. Before I know it, I’m in handcuffs in the back of a cruiser. I’m silent the entire ride to the station, and I’m fucking agitated. They finally throw me into a cell, waiting to be booked.

Why the fuck was she with that fucking sniveling prick? She could have shown up with Penny. I settle onto the cool metal bench and let all of that shit bury me. I let Ashland haunt me for a little while. I don’t know how much time passes while I stare into space, at least a few hours, but I’m brought back when the door squeaks open.

“You made bail,” a woman in uniform says gruffly.

I didn’t call our father, or anyone. I didn’t even think about it, and I know Alexi won’t come for me. Not after this.

I follow her out, collecting my things, then head toward the lobby to be released, and I see who it is that bailed me out. Her pink hair has since been thrown into a braid and she’s in a band tee covered in paint, obviously Penny’s, and my fucking sweatpants.

She doesn’t even look at me. She just leaves. I can’t help myself. I chase after her. We’re in the courtyard by the time I catch up. Her hands are clenched in fists at her side.

I grab her arm and pull her back. “Don’t fucking walk away from me.”

“Get your hand off of me,” she says calmly. There’s fire in her eyes. Being this close to her is debilitating. I can smell her, and it fills me with fucking sorrow. I let her go, only because there are officers hanging around watching us.

“Why were you at that party with Cole?”

“Fuck you. I don’t owe you an explanation. Penny told me not to come get you. I should have fucking listened.”

“Did you bail him out, too?”

She takes a deep breath and glares at me. “Cole is the victim. They’re trying to get him to press fucking charges.”

“Why did you leave?” It’s the question I’ve been wanting to ask.

“Because we weren’t a fucking thing. We agreed. We weren’t supposed to fucking talk, and you pushed it. We are nothing alike. We never will be. We’re nothing.”

“Cole was fucking wrong,” I blurt. “He was wrong. I should have said it then.”

“I know, but you didn’t. You called Stephanie instead.” She said her fucking name. She fucking said it. “You didn’t say anything until you saw Cole with me, and you fucking hit him in the face. Goodnight, Armory. I won’t do this again.”

She turns and storms off in the direction of her house. I yank on my hair pacing in circles. I have royally fucked up, and I don’t think I can undo this. She’s making me fucking crazy and reckless. My career is now on the line. I might get suspended. She manipulated me as much as I manipulated her. She effectively has ruined my life, too, and I try to hold onto that as I head home.

Stephanie is waiting at my condo, sans friends, when I get back. I ignore her, unlocking the door and going inside, leaving it open behind me. I might as well fuck Stephanie since Ashland made it a point to tell me she knew. That’s all my future will be, anyways.

“Did you take me to that party to get back at that slut?” she asks in her winy voice. Guess we won’t be fucking.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

I grab a beer from the fridge and open it, gulping it down until I crush the empty can and toss it into the bin, grabbing another. I’m going to clear this fridge tonight. It’s the only way I’ll be able to bring myself to bang Stephanie.

“Something about ‘you’re just a replacement’.” She glares. “Is that what I am, too? Am I just a replacement?”

“You can’t possibly think you’re the only girl that I see.”

“Is that why you dropped me? You were fucking her ? She’s beneath you, Koda. Look at her. She’s trailer trash,” Stephanie goes on.

“Jesus, Stephanie, do you ever shut the fuck up?”

“Wh-what?” Her eyes widen with surprise and immediately fill with emotion fueled tears, per fucking usual.

I give her an angry chuckle. “You sure have a lot of shit to say about Ashland, but you won’t even look inside of yourself. You’re shallow and goddamn annoying. Why is it that you come to me every time I ask? It can’t be because you’re orgasming, because I won’t even touch you. I know I’m not. You’re more of a slut than she ever will be. All you do is chase fame. How many guys on the team have been inside of you? ‘Cause I know it’s more than half. You want a fucking meal ticket."

“That’s not true,” she cries.

“You want to know something about Ashland? She’s got real fucking thoughts in her head. There’s a real person in there. She’s fucking funny, and she stands up for what she believes in, something people like us are afraid to do. She speaks for people who can’t speak for themselves, and not because it’ll help her trophy wife status someday. So don’t talk about shit that you don’t know about. It makes you look stupid. Don’t ever fucking talk about her like that again.”

“What is wrong with you?” she sniffles.

“Right now? You. Now get the fuck out. I’ll call you when I’m bored.”

Stephanie covers her mouth with her hand, stifling fake sobs, and runs out of the door.

I slam my hands on the marble counter and swipe them across, shoving everything to the floor. The crashing doesn’t even phase me. I hope it’s all broken. Ashland said she feels nothing for me. Nothing. She looked like none of it ever fucking mattered to her and I feel exactly how I probably just made Stephanie feel, and I’m not sorry for it. Ashland was always right about everything.

I never patched the hole in the wall. I couldn’t. I just stare at it. I used to hate Ashland, but I think I was just jealous of her. She grabs the world by the balls and squeezes until it concedes. There’s no wrong or right; not exactly. Not in the same way I see it. I finally decide I should throw her stuff out. That it might make me feel better. The second I pull the sketch book out of my side table drawer I know I can’t do it. At first I stare at it, willing myself to throw it away. I don’t. I fucking look instead.

I sit on the edge of my bed, setting it on my lap, and with a deep breath I flip to the first page. It’s sketched in pencil like the one she gave me. It’s the same one of Penny sitting on a couch with a pizza. The next one is of Penny, too. After a few pages of Penny I almost give up, but I flip one more time and all I see is black. It looks like shadows of something. This must be where she starts using the charcoal.

The next one looks like a doorway with a shadow in it. More doorways with more pronounced shadows. A set of eyes staring out at me on the page. They’re vacant, but not in a dead way. It’s in an unsettling way. There are several more pages of the same eyes, but they seem to make me more uncomfortable as they go on. I run into another sketch of Penny. In this one she looks worried about something.

I flip to the creepy eyes again and quickly sift through them until I reach a page of stars. They look like the ones tattooed on her arm. I’m not an art guy, but I can almost feel these pages. The stars aren’t cute or particularly special, but something about them is cold. I count twenty. On the next page the stars seem happier, maybe something you could wish on. Twenty. Another sketch of the stars strikes me as dark, angry, and hopeful all at once. Those are the ones that are tattooed on her arm. The ones she called failure. Nineteen.

This is wrong on so many levels. I know that, but I can’t stop looking. I study the dark stars a few more minutes, tracing my fingers over them. Appreciating them like I wanted to when she let me see her arm. Then I flip again, and things seem to spiral. I see the one that Prince got tattooed on his leg, except it’s different. A girl in chains with people holding her down. The next is someone with a knife, cutting a person's tongue off. I don’t know how, but I can tell it’s slow. Another of a man on the beach. He’s the man with the eyes. His hair is blowing in the non-existent wind as he grins, but it’s all so evil.

There are more of guns and knives and blood. People I don’t recognize. Death and fear bleed from the fucking pages. This is dark. Darker than dark. This is the kind of stuff that gets people committed. No wonder she doesn’t let anyone look at this. I don’t know what to make of it, but the shit she said that day she left tortures me. She said she was wrong. That the world would always be upside down for her.

The world distorts itself to Ashland’s point of view, and it’s a fucked up disaster of a love story. I look back over the pages and see it the way she sees it. Further on there are a few of parties. It’s all so fucking plastic. The laughter is too loud, imitating the crunching of bones. The atmosphere is grotesque, choking me with perfume laced vomit. The darkness isn’t in the shadows, it’s in the hollowness of people’s eyes. The warm ambiance of my room now feels like a stage light, exposing my deepest darkest fears. The colors and the decor mock me. The background noise is like claws on a chalkboard, nauseating and forcing me to shiver, and that’s the most comforting part of it all.

My mouth is dry, and I try to swallow. She’s always abrasive, and I can see why. She lives like this every single day. I see her in the midst of this doom, and she’s fucking beautiful. It isn’t the eyes or her face. Not her clothing or her aesthetic. I’m not even thinking about fucking her. I s ee Ashland and the gaping hole in her chest accompanied by a scrambled mind. I’m fucking overwhelmed.

I continue torturing myself until I recognize the person on the page. Dark angry eyes glare at me, but they’re confused. I don’t know how she managed to capture two things at once like this. It’s me. Some of it has been drawn in pencil. I don’t need an explanation to know this is portraying last year at the weekender. The very first time I had a taste of Ashland, before I even knew who she was. She said she didn’t remember, but I’m not sure I believe that. Subconsciously, she knew it was me.

In the next, my jaw is tight. This is the night that I had sex with her at the football party. The next one is me, too. I obsessively move on, hoping to see myself from her perspective again. The way she can capture a person is mesmerizing.

There are a few of Alexi bothering her. Even though they scream annoyance, I’m still jealous she drew him at all. They get dark again, then there are some that are in pencil that are ancient civilizations like she was drawing when we all studied. Then I see a half sketch of me sitting next to her on the patio of The Roost the day I stole this. So I was on her mind even back then. The thought causes me phantom pain. The day I started ruining her life. I got under her skin.

I scramble into the drawer and grab the crumpled drawing from the library, smoothing the wrinkles. It’s the brand on her ass. I’ve never asked her about it. It’s hard to ask her about anything. The first time I saw it I was still in denial about feeling anything. Then it just became a part of her. I focused on it, sure, it was proof that it was Ashland that was underneath me. As for what it means? I couldn’t guess if I wanted to. It looks like a crest wrapped around the letter D. I thought maybe it was some sort of tattoo thing, but now that I’ve seen all of this? I’m not sure.

I glance up at the clock and realize I’ve been studying the sketches for almost two hours. I’m fucking exhausted from feeling all of this. I shove it in my side table drawer and notice my hands are dirty with charcoal. It doesn’t bother me like it should. I change into a pair of sweatpants and stretch out onto my bed. I put my headphones on and listen to her playlist while I stare at the ceiling and imagine the stars she drew are up there. It didn’t look like a night sky, but the kind of shit you see on the ceiling of your kid sister’s room.

She’s really good at art, even if some of this content is disturbing, and I wonder why she doesn’t major in it. Penny said she has no problem advocating for her, but Ashland hides this side of herself. Her art is so honest, just like Penny said she is. The way I came to know her. So what’s honest about all of the dark shit? Seeing myself from her eyes pointed out things about me that I’ve never noticed. People always say I look angry and intimidating, but she clearly doesn’t see me that way. The anger is there, but it’s immersed with other things. Lust. Confusion. Self-hatred.

Everyone is boring compared to her. They always will be, and I fucked it all up.