Chapter 34

Chapter 34

Harper

Easton thinks he owns me, that every happy expression that crosses my

face is due to him.

Screw that.

But the truth is, Easton's message is what caused me to grin. I had just

flipped to Blake's text when Easton saw me, the timing just couldn't

have been more perfect.

I'll never tell him that though.

As far as he's concerned, Blake makes me smile too, and it needs to

stay that way.

I continue down the hallway when Sadie stops me and says, “Whoa. I

just saw Easton and he looks like he’s about to murder someone. Any

idea what that's about?”

I shrug. “He read a text that Blake sent me. Maybe it has something to

do with that

-I mean, hopefully it does.”

“Blake and ... you?” Her eyebrows lift so high, they look like they're

about to get lost in her hairline.

“It's not what you think. He just asked me out for dinner.”

She laughs. “Really? And you think that clarifies my questions

somehow?” She adjusts her bag. “Unless he’s feeling you, he's not

going to ask you out to dinner.”

I tuck a chunk of hair behind my ear, the smell of Easton's shampoo

from this morning's shower still so present, something I'm not even

close to getting used to. “I'm not interested. He's the biggest player at

school.”

"And Easton's not?"

“And Ryan's not?” I argue back.

“Okay, good point, the three of them are equal in the player

department. But we both know I'm going to mold Ryan into the man I

want him to be and you're going to do the same with Easton. Or is it

Blake? I feel lost-again.”

I wrap my arm around hers and start walking. “It's Easton. It's only ever

been Easton.”

But I can’t deny that having Blake's attention is an interesting feeling.

One I've never had before. Probably because Sadie is the only person

who's ever cared about me. And now, suddenly, there's two new

numbers in my phone and both are texting me on the same day.

My mind is blown.

“Your turn,” I say, reminding her of the conversation from the library.

“What's up with you and Ryan?”

She stops at her locker, filling her bag with books. “Well, like I said,

we've been talking more. Texting. Having convos at night before we go

to bed. You know, stuff like that.”

“So, he's not treating you like shit anymore?”

She shuts her locker and joins our arms together, heading for the

parking lot. “Things are good.” She looks at me, biting her lip. “And,

God, you know I'm positively crazy about him. That's no secret.”

“I just don’t want him to hurt you, Sadie.”

Even though he’s my brother, his reputation is as harsh as his friends

When it comes to girls, they're after one thing, and everyone in this

school knows that.

But it doesn't stop them, they get what they want.

Always.

“He won't, I won't let him. Promise.”

“Sadie, Harper-you might want to stop right here,” Blake says,

approaching us as we're nearing the student lot.

"Why?" Sadie asks.

He nods toward Sadie. “Someone wrote something on your car.” He

then looks at me. “And Ryan's.”

“Wrote something?” I inquire.

I don't like the sound of this.

My stomach immediately begins to churn, my heart picking up speed as

Blake keeps his eyes on me.

“What does it say?” I whisper.

He glances down, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows. When he

finally looks up again, he says, “Why don't you let Ryan and Sadie deal

with this, and we'll go grab something to eat?”

He's protecting me.

But why?

What does it say?

“Tell me what's on their cars, Blake. I'm not leaving this school until I

know.”

His eyes soften, his hand reaching for mine. His thumb grazes across

the back of my palm as he replies, “Someone wrote, your sister is a slut,

on Ryan's windshield.” His eyes shift to Sadie. “And on yours it says,

your best friend is a slut.”

“No. They. Fucking. Didn't!” Sadie seethes. “I will kill whoever did this.”

She looks at me. “Not because of my car, I don't give a shit about that,

but what they wrote about

you.”

My chest is so tight, I have almost no voice when I say, “Who would do

this to me?”

Who hates me this much?

It isn't Easton. He can't be that mad about Blake's text, not where he

would vandalize his best friend's car.

The rest of the school barely knows me. I'm Ryan's sister to them and

most don't even know my name.

“I don't know," Blake responds. “But, I promise you, we're going to find

out.”

I clear my throat, hoping the tightness will lessen. “Will the writing

come off?"

The thought of my parents seeing this when they get home from work

makes me want to die even more.

“Yeah, it's the washable kind that the cheerleaders use for homecoming

when they decorate the football players’ cars,” he says.

“I'm going to run back into school and grab some wet napkins,” Sadie

tells me. “I'll clean the glass super quickly, and then I'll take you home.”

I'm positive she can see the tears forming in my eyes. The ones I don’t

want anyone to see because I don't want them to know how badly this

hurts.

The rumors just finally died down over my locker fiasco.

Now this happens.

“And make Harper wait here, I don't think so,” Blake says, his hand now

on my back. “I'm taking her home, so she doesn't have to deal with

this.”

I look at Sadie, needing her to respond, this strange desire inside me to

have her approval, like I'm doing something wrong.

She shakes her head, the emotion thick on her face. “Call me the

second you get home, okay?”

Inod, my feet moving on their own as Blake's hand guides me to the

row where he's parked. I don't feel the ground beneath me. All I feel are

eyes on me, all I hear are whispers as everyone in the lot talks about

me.

And the second I finally look up, steps away from reaching Blake's car,

my stare

connects with Easton's. He's standing next to Ryan's car.

Is the anger on his face because I'm with Blake? Or that someone wrote

those terrible words about me?

I want to hide in the dark.

And keep the door closed forever.

“Get in,” Blake says, opening the passenger side door for me.

He takes my bag off my shoulder and helps me inside, setting my

backpack by my feet before he shuts the door.

Easton watches me through the windshield.

Freezing me in my seat.

I can't read his expression, I can't even breathe.

But I'm thankful there's glass between us, so when the tears do fall, as

they are now, he can only see me wiping them away:

“Where do you want to go?” Blake asks from the driver's seat. “Are you

hungry? Thirsty? Feel like spending some time outside?”

I break contact with Easton to slowly look over at Blake.

His hand is on the gearshift, a warm smile covering his face. “Come on,

Harper. Let's go have some fun.”