Chasing Spring(19)

“What are you doing?” I asked, my tone harder than I'd intended.

“Walking home with you.” He tugged on his backpack, repositioning it on his shoulders. “No practice on Fridays.”

“Your friends probably aren't happy about you ditching them,” I said, turning toward the sidewalk, knowing he'd fall into place beside me.

“Well you're my oldest friend, so you get top priority.”

“Priority?” I asked with a quizzical brow.

“Yup. Premium walking-home privileges. It's a coveted spot.”

“Well, I’d hate to take that away from someone who actually wants it,” I said, pressing play on my iPod.

I couldn't hear his reply, but my music wasn’t loud enough to drown out his smile.





Chapter Twenty-Three


Lilah





I didn’t want to walk home with Chase. I didn’t want to stand at the threshold of my room, staring at his door in the darkness. The night before, I’d almost knocked to ask him if he needed someone to talk to, if he still missed his mom as much as I missed mine, but that hallway was blocked with the barbed wires of our past and I couldn’t conjure the courage to step over them.

“Is that what you’re wearing?” Ashley asked, tugging me out of my thoughts. I sat in her room, watching her get ready for the party I’d grudgingly agreed to attend with her and Trent.

I glanced down at my skinny jeans and Black Keys t-shirt. The t-shirt was snug and fit my frame well. I hadn't thought about the party when I'd gotten dressed that morning before school, but it would have to do.

I looked up at Ashley and shrugged. “It's not like I have time to go home and change.”

She reached into her closet and pulled out a black leather miniskirt. “Here, put this on at least.”

I caught it as she tossed it over to me and decided that caving and wearing the skirt would be easier than fighting about it. I had to pick my battles with her. She'd already been annoyed when I’d told her I was done taking Molly.

“Where'd you get those pills anyway?” I asked as I unzipped my jeans and slipped into the skirt. I wished it had another inch or two of fabric, but I just tugged it down a sliver and then knotted my shirt above my waist so it looked like an intentional outfit. I ran my hand across the sliver of exposed stomach, fighting an intrusive curiosity: what would it feel like to have Chase's hands there?

“I don't remember. I got them a while back. I'm still going to take one even if you aren't,” she threatened as she layered on her mascara in the bathroom mirror.

“Be my guest,” I said, making a mental note to keep track of her at the party.

“Any updates about Chase? Does his holiness even bother acknowledging your presence?”

“He mostly keeps to himself,” I lied.

She dropped her mascara on the counter and then spun around to face me. She'd redone the pink streaks in her blonde hair earlier that day so they were even more vibrant. I focused on them as she spoke.

“I just don’t see how you can live across the hall from him. That would be so weird.”

Her words were scraping at scabs I wasn’t ready to pick. “Whatever. Are you almost ready? Trent is picking us up in like five minutes.”

She smacked her lips and reached back to grab a bag of little white pills from her purse.

“Time to roll,” she said before popping two into her mouth.

I watched her swallow them and tried to fight away thoughts of my mom clawing their way to the front of my mind. Why was it so hard for her to turn down a high? I watched Ashley inhale those pills and I felt no desire to join her. If it was so easy for me to turn them down, why could my mother never manage it?

“Last chaaaaaance,” Ashley announced, shaking the little bag. I had to fight the urge to grab it and flush the pills down the toilet. “You sure you don’t want some?”

I pushed off her bed and headed for the door. “Positive.”

“All right, Miss Priss.”

My phone buzzed in my hand before I could respond.



Trent: Outside.



Perfect.

“Trent just got here. I'm going to head down,” I said, leaving her room before she could follow after me. I headed outside to find Trent sitting behind the wheel of his silver Camry. His friend Duncan sat in the passenger seat beside him. Duncan had a thing with Ashley—or as she explained it, they “liked hooking up with each other while drunk.”

“You look sexy, babe.” Trent whistled as I hopped into the backseat. Duncan twisted around to inspect me and his smile made me want to gag. He reminded me of a snake with his sunken cheekbones and chin that tapered off at a sharp angle.

“Yeah Calloway,” Duncan added. “You really came into your own since you left.”

His dark gaze had a way of making my skin crawl.

I shifted my gaze to Trent and took him in. A tattered t-shirt covered his thin build and his jet-black hair hung low over his forehead, purposely disheveled. He flashed me a crooked smile and his dark eyes held mine.

“Where's Ashley?” he asked with an arched brow, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel impatiently.

I shrugged. “She was supposed to head out right after me.”