Dare You To (Pushing the Limits, #2)(128)

Her eyes widen and she steps back. “I didn’t do it for      homecoming.”

“Then why? Why would you hurt me like this?”

She blinks. “Hurt you? I’ve said nothing about you.”

“If you hurt her, you hurt me. I love her.”

Gwen’s face pales. “You only think you love her. I just...I      just told a few people. Just enough so word would get back to you, because I      knew you wouldn’t listen to me. I didn’t know that they’d call her a whore. I      didn’t know about the locker. I swear, Ryan. I feel awful. I do. I had no idea      it would go down like this.”

When I angle my body away from her, she tries to reach out to      me. “Please, you have to believe me. Ryan...”

I move out of range and her fingers hover in the air for a      second before dropping to her side. “She’s all wrong for you. I thought if you      heard it, maybe from other people, you’d see what she really is and then      you’d...”

Nausea crawls up my throat. “What? What did you think I’d      do?”

Tears pool in her eyes and she shrugs. “Come back to me.”

I pop my neck, trying to relieve the tension, but find the act      did nothing to help. “We were over long before Beth came to this school. If you      can’t understand that, try this—I love her, Gwen. I love her.”

I turn my back and head in the direction of my next class. This      school isn’t that big and, because of that, Beth won’t be able to hide from me      for long.





Chapter 66

Beth

I KNEW THIS MATERIAL LAST       WEEK. I know I did. I studied every night and Scott quizzed me most      mornings. But I’m drawing blanks. The words jumble as I read them, which means      my paper’s blank. The bell rings. “Please bring your tests to me,” says Mrs.      Hayes.

The hand clutching my pencil sweats. I’ve written my name.      That’s it. My head falls forward. I failed. Again. This is who I was meant to      be.

“Beth,” says Mrs. Hayes. She walks back to my seat after      everyone else turns in their tests and leaves. “Are you okay?”

“No.” I’m a whore and I’m stupid. I snatch my backpack and      leave the blank test on my desk. “I am not okay.”

I burst out of class. Groveton is a mistake. I’m a mistake.      Ryan lied to me. He used me. I was a dare. I’m nothing more than a stupid whore      who makes mistake after mistake after mistake. Just like my mom.

People laugh as I pass. They’re judging me and their      judgment is spot-on. I don’t belong here. I never have. I can’t go to lunch and      I can’t handle the thought of gym. I don’t want to listen to Ryan lie so he can      make himself feel better, to Gwen’s laughter because I’m the trash she wants me      to be, or to Lacy’s pleas to talk to her.

Ryan rounds the corner and I duck into the hallway where I      saw Isaiah on my first day of school. God, I’ve f*cked everything up. I lost my      best friend because I fell in love with a stupid jock who doesn’t love me back.      My fingers tunnel into my hair and I pull hard to cause pain. Stupid, stupid,      stupid me.

Why couldn’t I do one thing right in my life? If I’d left      with my mother weeks ago, none of this would have ever happened.

I stop breathing. I can still go. I packed my remaining      money and a change of clothes in my bag last week. The backpack weighs me down.      The books I can ditch in my locker. The other items that I kept as reminders can      also be left, but not here. I know exactly where I can unload them on my way out      of town.





Chapter 67

Ryan

SMACK. THE BALL COLLIDES with      my glove. Bottom of the sixth and the game is tied. I wiggle the fingers of my      throwing hand to keep them from becoming stiff from the cold. Late October and      it’s the coldest day of the year. Cold-weather games bring strange sensations.      The wind burns my cheeks and fingers, but sweat forms from the heat trapped      beneath the mock turtleneck of my uniform.

“Let’s go, Ryan!” Dad calls from the stands. Playing the      perfect wife and mother, Mom sits right beside him with a fleece blanket      covering her legs. My eyes scan the bleachers again. Beth’s not here and she      won’t be showing.

A high-pitched whistle originates from home plate. The new      batter is taking his time for the third pitch in what I assume is an attempt to      freeze me out. Logan steps to the left of the batter’s box and motions for me to      throw. He wants me to keep moving so my muscles will stay warm. I’m distracted      and have pitched the shittiest game of my life. My arm winds back, releases, and      I curse when the ball flies two feet to the left of Logan’s glove.