I scoff. “Better run along after your girlfriend, like the good little follower we both know you are.”
Again, I see my words hit their target, but it doesn’t make me feel any better. After what he’s done, he has no right to be hurt.
I wouldn’t exactly call it leaving on a high note, but it’s the closest I’ll get to one, so I turn to leave again. No way in hell am I going to just stand here like some pathetic sap, hoping Jase will pick me, only to watch him walk away with another girl.
I take off down the hallway, ducking between people and making sure to get lost in the crowd. Hunkering low, I get to the adjoining hallway and through an open side door leading to the parking lot before I hear footsteps behind me. My first instinct is to run, but I opt to do the next best thing.
I hide behind the door.
It’s wedged open with a block, leaving barely enough room between it and the brick facade for me to slip into place. I manage to hide in the nick of time, because Jase comes into viewwhen I dare to peek through the small window built into the door.
I don’t regret my decision to hide, watching him run down the sidewalk. If I had tried to do the same, not only would he have spotted me, but he would have also caught up in about five seconds.
Jase looks in every direction, expecting to see me somewhere, but after a couple of minutes, his shoulders sag and he retreats back to the building.
I duck out of view from the window, and before Jase reaches my hiding spot, another shadow falls across the door. Every muscle in my body goes rigid when I hear, “Gunning for the doghouse, I see.”
Trent.
Whatever look Jase must give in return only has him laughing.
“Hey, it’s notmyfault your girl’s pissed. And you can’t blame her. You just ditched her to go run after some uggo.”
I don’t know how I could be so stupid, but for that split second, I thought he was talking about me…until that last sentence.
“Seriously, man, what’s your deal? So some nerd’s gonna go sulk in a corner somewhere. Who gives a shit?”
“Ido,” Jase snaps before he can seem to think better of it. After a beat, he lets out a long breath, now just sounding frustrated. “No one else was supposed to know about the contest. Why the hell would you guys announce that to the entire goddamn school? Noweveryonethinks I’m a dick.”
“Why? It’s not like you’re the only one who participated.”
“Yeah, but the other guys can still plausibly deny it. The only person everyoneknowswho played is the winner.”
Of course.
Jase doesn’t give a shit about making things right with me. He’s just interested in repairing the damage to his reputation. After all, girls may love a bad boy, but most aren’t keen on assholes. Jase only wanted to get me alone to smooth things over so that I’d go along with whatever narrative he concocted that would paint him in the best light.
The fact that he never bothered reaching out to me once he got his kiss on the Fourth should have already told me everything I needed to know, but this confirms it.
My fingernails claw into the brick behind me, digging into whatever impressions I can find to anchor myself in place. I’m not sure if it’s my muscles or my lungs, but I can’t manage a decent breath, even after Trent and Jase disappear inside the building and the bell for our next class goes off. Any attempt to draw in the air only has me wheezing as I choke on a sob and, at last, crumple to the ground.
CHAPTER 22
THAT’S WHAT I CALL CRAZY
PRESENT
Birdie.
The second that name slipped from Jase’s mouth, he had sealed my fate. I was no longer Ali Sharpe or even “that dork in the glasses.”
I was little, ugly, baby Birdie.
The nickname stuck so well that even a few teachers slipped up and called me that on occasion.
What hurt more than anything else was Jase’s behavior. He didn’t try reaching out to me again, never spoke to me at school, and refused to so much as look in my direction. As far as he was concerned, I didn’t exist. That didn’t seem to be good enough for Sienna and Trent. I was a bad joke they couldn’t drop from their set, like Jase needed to keep reassuring them I was nothing more than navel lint, something so insignificant that I wasn’t worth the time to even acknowledge. And when they forced him to address my existence, I was met with nothing but disgust.
I still remember the look on his face in English class when Trent kept pestering him, asking if he wanted to kiss me again.
