I fly up the stairs, my legs burning as I take two at a time in my need to get away. I ignore all the doors until I get to the penultimate one and I swing it open.
The safety of Harley’s room makes me sigh with relief. I slam it behind me, feeling the vibrations of the force I used before I throw myself at the bed.
I tell myself not to cry. Not to waste any more tears on that asshole, but it’s not a fight I can win because the harder I try to keep them in, the more they insist on being released until I’m sobbing into Harley’s pillow.
2
Zayn
“What the fuck, man?” I bark at Justin who stands staring at me like he didn’t just fuck everything up.
“What? You won. You kissed your tag. What’s the big fucking deal, that she didn’t like it?”
I stare at him, my lips parted but unable to find any words.
He’s right, this shouldn’t be a big deal. I shouldn’t care that she knows that it was a dare. I shouldn’t have cared about the lie I told about her three years ago either. But I did, and I took the beating I deserved for it.
Things between Jake and I have never been the same since that night. I’d been in Rosewood less than a year and still trying to find my place within the team. Doing what I did was probably the biggest risk I’ve ever taken. If Jake didn’t believe in my skills, he could have dropped me there and then. We might have only been sophomores, but he had the power, even back then.
I didn’t lie to her that night. I had been thinking about kissing her. What fifteen-year-old boy in their right mind wouldn’t. She was gorgeous. But not in the same way as the girls I hung around with. She was effortlessly beautiful. She hardly wore any makeup, she didn’t need it. Her light brown hair had a natural curl and her gray eyes captivated me. There was so much innocence within them, but at the same time wisdom, the kind of wisdom that only came with experience, but I had no idea what that was. As far as I could tell, she had a good life. She lived with her parents and younger siblings and she’d formed a fast friendship with my sister. But there was more to Poppy than she let on and I was desperate to unearth whatever it was.
I’ve wanted a repeat of that night ever since. Not that she’d ever let me anywhere near her. She became distant to the point it pissed me off and instead of being concerned like I should have been, my automatic response was to be a dick.
I have no idea why she just kissed me like she did. I don’t deserve it.
“Get out of my fucking way,” I snap, pushing past Justin with such force that his drunken ass hits the floor. He cries out behind me, but I don’t give a shit. The only thing I can think of right now is getting a drink. The new year has only just started but I’m already wishing for a do-over.
This is it. The best year of my life. Senior year. We’ve won both the division and the state championships. We’re the fucking best team this town, our school, has seen in a really long fucking time. We’re living the life. We have parties every weekend and more girls than we know what to do with. Mom ensures that I have everything I could ever want. So why do I feel like something is missing?
“Zayn!” My name being screamed from somewhere in the house drags me from my sleep. “Zayn.”
“Oh fuck,” I grunt, rolling onto my back, keeping my eyes firmly shut. Afraid that if I open them the light will burn them from my sockets.
My head pounds a steady beat as my stomach crashes about.
How much did I drink last night?
I think back to swiping a bottle of whiskey from Mom’s drink cupboard while everyone else was forced to drink the beer she’d allowed us for the night, and I took myself to the only place I knew no one other than my sister would be able to find me. The treehouse.
We were too old to really make use of it by the time Mom moved us here, but it still comes in pretty handy. Mostly for me when I’ve had enough of all the female hormones running around my house being forced to live with three women.
New Year’s Eve—or New Year’s Day—I guess, and I was hiding like a pussy in a treehouse. It wasn’t exactly the start of the year I’d imagined.
“Zayn Alexander Hunter, get your ass out here right—” The sound of my door flying open and then a loud gasp sounds out. “Oh my God.” There’s movement before she speaks again. “Get yourself decent, see your guest out, and then meet me in the kitchen. You have some work and a hell of a lot of groveling to do, my boy.”
“Ooooh, someone’s in trouble,” a sickly-sweet voice comes from beside me, finally forcing me to open my eyes.
I take in the blonde who’s half-asleep in my bed in only her underwear.
“Shut the fuck up, Laurie. What the hell are you even doing here?” I ask, having zero memory of even talking to her last night, let alone inviting her into my bed. Granted, it’s not her first visit, but still.
“You brought me, said you needed to see the New Year in with a bang.” She winks. “If you get my drift.”
“You need to leave.”
“But—” she starts, her hand skimming over my stomach until she’s cupping my junk. She might think my morning wood is because of her, but she’d be bitterly disappointed. I have no idea if anything actually happened with her last night, but if it did, it certainly wasn’t memorable. Not like a certain kiss.
“No, Laurie. It’s time for you to go home.”
I throw her hand off me and push from the bed. My head spins, forcing me to reach out for the wall until it clears.
“When I get out of the bathroom, you’ll no longer be here.” Reaching down, I swipe her dress and shoes from the floor and throw them at her.
“You’re an asshole, you know that?”
“I’ve been called worse. You know where the door is.”
She huffs in frustration, but I ignore it as I swing the door shut behind me and turn the shower on. The good thing about being the only male in the house is that I managed to snag one of only two rooms in this house with an en suite.
I grab the mouthwash and freshen up before resting my hands on the cool basin and hanging my head.
That was a dick move I pulled last night. I poured salt into an already pretty painful wound where Poppy is concerned.
I tell myself that receiving anything other than her hate would be weird anyway, and without looking at myself, I drop my boxers and step into the shower.
When I finally get down to the kitchen, desperate for the biggest mug of coffee I can find and maybe a blunt if I can unearth any, I discover Mom sitting at the island surrounded by empty bottles, crushed Solo cups and discarded cigarettes.
I wince at the sight but with last night’s whiskey still flowing happily through my veins, it doesn’t affect me as much as I’m sure it should.
“When I told you that you could have a party, I trusted you to keep it under control.” Her voice is calm, cold even and it sends a shiver running down my spine.
“Sorry. People turned up with more alcohol and things went a little crazy.”
“Crazy. The house stinks of weed, Zayn. The one thing I forbid in this house.”
“I know. I’m sorry.”
“You will be. I hope you don’t have any plans today because all of this,” she says, gesturing to the devastation. “Is all yours to fix. By the time I get back this afternoon, I expect it to be back to normal.”