Hopeless: A High School Bully Romance (Playa Del Mar Book 1) Page 15

  “Snacks.”

  She frowns. “There are leftovers in the fridge. Don’t fill up on all that junk.”

  I want to tell her that she should be happy I’m eating at all but I just nod.

  “I’m heading out for a few hours,” she says. “I probably won’t be home until midnight.”

  My eyes are glued to the television. “Where are you going?”

  “A dinner event.”

  I peel my eyes away from the screen and look at her. She’s dressed in a short black dress and satin heels, both of which I’m sure are brand-new purchases. Her hair is twisted into a French knot, and she’s sporting a diamond necklace and earring set that I’ve never seen before. I’m dressed in sweats and a ratty t-shirt from some resort we visited two years ago in Fiji, and pretty much feel like a homeless person compared to my mother.

  “Wow, look at you.” I pop a Dorito in my mouth. “What kind of dinner event is it?”

  She smiles, a little nervously. “Some charity event. A childhood cancer fundraiser.” She sees my look of confusion because she says, “A friend of mine invited me. They didn’t want to go alone.”

  “Is this a date?”

  Her cheeks color and she shakes her head. “Not in the slightest.”

  “Who are you going with?”

  “Someone you don’t know.” She is being evasive, and part of me is tempted to push back, to demand answers.

  But then I remember all the secrets I’m keeping from her.

  So I just stuff some more chips in my mouth.

  I hear the jingle of her keys as she picks them up off the table and shoves them in her purse.

  “Are you sure you’re okay?” she asks.

  “I’m fine.”

  She sits down on the edge of the couch and touches my leg. “You’ve seen a little down this week. A little quiet.”

  I keep my eyes on the TV. “Nope. Just tired.”

  She leans toward me and grabs the remote tucked against my side. She pauses the show. “Talk to me.”

  I plunge my hand into the bag of gummy bears. “What do you want me to say?”

  Worry lines crease her forehead. “I can tell something is wrong.”

  “Nothing is wrong.” I keep my voice as firm as possible. “I just want a night in, that’s all. You should be happy I’m not out partying and doing drugs and stuff.”

  She smiles. “I am happy you’re not out doing drugs. But I would be happy if you went out with your friends. You went to a couple of parties last week, right? The one before school started and one last Friday?”

  I give the smallest nod of my head.

  “What are those friends doing tonight?” she asks. “That’s Emily, right?”

  I shrug. “I don’t know what they’re doing. Because I wanted to stay home.”

  “And what about Ben?” she presses. “I thought you guys were super close.”

  I try not to physically tense up at the mention of him or how ‘close’ we used to be, especially because all it does is remind me of the lies he told. And the truth he shared with me.

  “I haven’t talked to him tonight,” I say instead.

  She pats my leg. “Well, maybe you should give him a call and see if he wants to hang out. You guys could watch Netflix together.” She frowns. “Except don’t do that ‘Netflix and chill’ thing. I know what that means…”

  I roll my eyes. As cool and normal as my mom usually is, she’s sometimes a huge dork.

  She grins. “Alright, I need to get going.” She stands up and hitches her purse over her shoulder. “Let me know if your plans change and you decide to go out, okay?”

  “They won’t.”

  “But if they do…”

  I pick up the remote and un-pause my show. “Fine, I’ll let you know if I change my mind.”

  She nods and heads toward the door.

  And laughs.

  “Looks like I’ll be hearing from you sooner rather than later,” she tells me.

  I glance her direction.

  The door is open, my mom’s hand still on the handle.

  And standing in the doorway wearing an awkward, hesitant smile is Ben.

  Chapter 43

  “What are you doing here?” I ask as soon as my mom leaves.

  Ben is still standing and I’m sitting upright on the couch, staring at him.

  “Honestly?” He runs his hand over his hair. “I don’t really know.”

  “Is everything…okay?” I don’t really want him here, and I don’t want to talk, but I also want to make sure he’s not like suicidal or anything.

  He waves a hand in the air. “Sure. I mean, as okay as it can be considering the circumstances.” He hesitates. “Can I come in?”

  “You already are.”

  “I mean can I come and sit down?”

  I sigh. “I’m not really in the mood.”

  “I don’t want anything,” he says. “You can keep watching your show. I just…I don’t know. I didn’t want to be alone tonight.”

  He waits for me to say something. I stare at him for a minute and then sigh again and motion for him to sit down. He practically vaults himself into the corner of the couch.

  We sit and watch the show for a few minutes before he speaks again.

  “How have things been the rest of this week?”

  We haven’t talked since that afternoon in detention. He’s texted me a couple of times but I haven’t responded.

  “Fine.”

  He looks at me with raised eyebrows. “Really?”

  “No.” I stuff my hand into the bag of Doritos. I’ve already eaten half. “It’s been pretty shitty, actually.”

  He flinches. “I’m sorry.”

  “Me, too.”

  He clears his throat. “Thank you.”

  “For what?”

  “For not saying anything,” he says. “About me. About the truth.”

  I shrug. “I guess I just decided for now that it’s not my story to tell.”

  “It sort of is,” he says. “Since I dragged you into it and sort of ruined your life because of it.”

  “You didn’t ruin my life.”

  “Your friends aren’t talking to you,” he begins, tapping one of his fingers as if he’s about to rattle off a list.

  “Then they probably weren’t really my friends to begin with,” I point out.

  “Your boyfriend thinks you cheated on him and dumped you.”

  I frown. “He believed what the meanest bitch in school told him, “ I clarified. “And he…” I stop.

  Ben scowls. “I know what he’s doing. Spreading rumors about you sleeping with him.”

  I sigh. “They aren’t rumors.”

  Bens’s eyes go wide. “They’re…not?”

  Wordlessly, I shake my head.

  “Oh my god.” He picks up the remote and turns off the television.

  “What are you—?”

  “You slept with Hayden Mayfield?” His eyes are like saucers. “Holy shit.”

  My cheeks start to burn, and I’m regretting admitting the truth to him.

  “Why?” he asks. “When I told you what he was like? He’s a first-class asshole.”

  For some reason, I feel the need to defend Hayden, or at least defend my initial feelings toward him. “He wasn’t an asshole to me.”

  His eyebrows shoot to his hairline. “Uh…seriously?”

  “Not at first,” I tell him.

  Because he wasn’t. Sure, Hayden was a bit of an ass that very first day, when he screeched to a stop in front of my house. But after that? I remembered how he ripped Lucas off me, how he shot Charity down on one more than one occasion when she went in for the attack. I remembered our talks, him telling me about his mom and his photographs, and him listening to me and asking me questions. I thought he cared about me. I thought he liked me. I thought that maybe, with time, he could love me.

  As much as his latest actions hurt me, a part of me couldn’t easily forget all the good wrapped up in my m
emories of Hayden.

  “Do you want to tell me about it?” Ben asks quietly. “About him?”

  I think for a minute before shaking my head. Tears sting my eyes and there’s a lump in my throat, and I hate that what Hayden did to me still hurts so much. I want to be over him.

  “You know, this is ridiculous,” Ben says.

  “What is?”

  “This.” He motions to the snacks tucked in beside me and to the darkened television across the room. “You shouldn’t be locked away on a Friday night. Neither of us should.”

  “No one is keeping you here.”

  He frowns. “Do you want me to leave?”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “Good. I just think it’s fucked up that we’re holed up by ourselves while everyone else is out having a good time. That’s lame.”

  “I don’t have anywhere to go,” I tell him. “And no one to go with.”

  “You have me.”

  “Okay, fine. I still don’t have anywhere to go.”

  He grins. “There’s a party tonight. At Kylie Simon’s house.”

  I recognize the name. She was in a couple of my elementary school classes, and in my sixth grade homeroom. I remember her as being nice and a little shy. She’s in my English class now, and plays volleyball. She recognized me immediately and actually welcomed me back and asked me questions about living in New Zealand. In short, she was nice. Considering my experience so far with the girls at Playa, this feels like a bit of an anomaly. And, even more to her credit, I also haven’t noticed her giving me the side eye or whispering about me during the last few days when everyone else seems to have something to say about me behind my back.

  “We should go,” Ben announces.

  “To the party?”

  He nods.

  “Nope.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I don’t want to.”

  He stands up. “Sometimes you have to do things you don’t want to do.”

  “I don’t want to go.”

  “I don’t either,” he admits. “But that’s why we should.”

  I reach for the remote but he grabs it and tucks it behind his back.

  “Hear me out,” he said. “Then you can decide if you want to go or not.”

  There is nothing he can say that will change my mind about going to some party where people will stare at me and assume things about me that aren’t true.

  “Something you told me the other day has stuck with me,” he said. “About feeling like an outsider. I don’t want that for you.”

  “I don’t either.”

  “And I feel responsible.” He shoots me a guilty look. “Because I am, at least to some degree. Just like I’m responsible for some of the messes I’ve created for myself.”

  He’s not saying anything that isn’t true.

  “But you don’t have anything to hide, Sydney,” he tells me. “If you stay home and hide away, people will just think all the things people are saying about you are true.”

  “I don’t care.”

  “I think you do,” he counters.

  “So what?” I stare at him. “You want me to go there and tell people the truth? Just grab a microphone or turn a spotlight on myself and announce it?”

  He casts his eyes to the floor. “That’s up to you,” he says quietly. “Or you can just go to the party and hold your head high and not let Hayden or Charity get the last word. You just showing up will speak volumes.”

  I mull over his words, albeit a bit grudgingly.

  He’s right about one thing.

  I don’t want to be an outsider.

  I don’t want my senior year of high school to be spent alone.

  Sure, I have Ben as a friend—if I want him—but the beginning of the school year demonstrated how much more I could have. Friends to have lunch with and go out with, a boyfriend…I liked those things. And, no, I don’t want those same people back in my life, not after how they have treated me, but there might be other opportunities at school, other people to get to know. People like Kylie Simon.

  What good will it do me if I just stay holed up in my house? All that will accomplish is to solidify my loneliness and isolation.

  Ben’s right. That’s probably exactly what Charity wants.

  And I don’t want to give that bitch anything.

  “Fine.”

  He looks at me. “Fine?”

  I nod. “Let’s go.”

  His eyebrows arch. “Really?”

  I’m already walking back to my room to change.

  “Really.”

  Chapter 44

  I suddenly have cold feet.

  Ben and I are standing on the sidewalk a couple of houses down from Kylie Simon’s house. The two-story split-level is at the end of a quiet cul-de-sac at the top of a canyon, right where Playa Del Mar and the neighboring town of Canyon Ridge begins.

  The house is lit up like a Christmas tree, and cars are lined up against the curb and even double-parked in the cul-de-sac. We circled the house once before Ben drove a couple of blocks back down the road to find a spot there.

  “You ready?” Ben asks me.

  I take a deep breath. My stomach is a ball of nerves and the conviction I felt before has dissipated.

  “Come on,” he urges with a smile.

  Still, I hesitate.

  “You look amazing,” he says. “And you can do this. I’m with you. We don’t have to stay long. Just go in there and be seen and give those assholes the finger and then we can go. Maybe get ice cream or something.”

  I glance down at my outfit. I’m wearing tight skinny jeans that I know fit me to perfection, and a maroon-colored tank top that shows off the tan I’ve earned from spending time on the beach last week.

  Ben reaches for my hand and gives it a quick squeeze before dropping it to fall limply by my side. “Let’s go.”

  He starts walking and I realize he’s going in, whether I follow him or not.

  And the last thing I want is to be left standing on the sidewalk alone.

  I hurry after him and we both reach the front door together. Music is pouring out of the open windows, a sound that only intensifies as he pushes open the door.

  Inside, the modest-sized house is packed full of people. Kylie is standing with a couple of her friends and raises her hand in greeting. “Hey!” she calls, a wide smile on her face. “Glad you could make it!”

  I just nod and smile, my spirit bolstered a little by what feels like a genuine greeting from her.

  Ben grabs my elbow and guides me through the sea of bodies, leading me toward the kitchen where there is a keg sitting on the floor by the fridge. He plucks two cups off the counter and fills both of them, then hands me one.

  I take a tentative sip, wrinkling my nose when I taste the bitter beer. Ben makes a similar face. “Jesus,” he mutters. “Can no one around here splurge for good beer?”

  But this doesn’t stop him from guzzling the entire cup in a matter of seconds and then filling it again. I nurse my drink and discreetly scan the crowd of people, on the lookout for familiar, unfriendly faces. I know I’m likely to see some—it’s a party on a Friday night, after all—but part of me is hoping everyone I’m on a first-name basis with at school is mysteriously absent.

  Ben bumps into me, a huge grin on his face. “Oops, sorry.”

  I glance down at his cup. It’s full, almost to the brim. “Is that your third?”

  He nods happily and takes a gulp.

  “You should slow down,” I tell him.

  “Why?” He chuckles. “It’s free. And what the hell else are we supposed to do here?”

  He has a point.

  What the hell are we supposed to be doing?

  I think about how he coaxed me to the party in the first place. He told me to come because I shouldn’t feel like I had to hide myself away. That staying home meant Charity and everyone else who believed or spread the rumors about me had won.

  It was a good rallying cry to
get me out the door but now that I’m here, I’m not so sure.

  I don’t really want to be seen.

  I don’t know how to hold my head high.

  To not be an outsider.

  Ben knocks back the contents of his cup and lets out a loud belch. “Oops. Sorry.” His eyes are glassy and bright, and I can’t believe he’s already buzzing hard from the alcohol.

  At least one of us is having fun.

  I pry the cup out of his hand. It’s not exactly hard to do as he’s barely holding on to it.

  “Are you getting me a refill?” he asks.

  “I think you’ve had enough.” I shift past someone and set both of our cups down on a bare patch of countertop.

  “Ah, come on,” he practically whines. He reaches for my arm. “I want more.”

  “Well, look what we have here,” Charity drawls, sidling up to us. Ainsley and Nina flank her sides.

  Ben makes a face. “Go away.”

  Charity gives him a haughty smile. “Not a chance.” She levels her gaze on me. “You have some nerve showing up here with your new boyfriend, especially after what you did to Hayden.”

  “What she did?” Ben’s voice is loud, and a couple of people nearby turn to look our direction. “What about what you did?”

  Charity stares coolly at him. “Oh? What did I do?”

  “You know exactly what you did,” he yells.

  He’s still holding on to me and I cover his hand with mine, intending to yank him away. “Come on,” I tell him. “She’s not worth our time.”

  “I’m not going to let that bitch get away with hurting you.”

  Charity’s eyes widen and she laughs. “Hurting you?” she says to me. “You did all this to yourself.”

  Ben gets in Charity’s face. “Who took the pictures?”

  She stops laughing.

  “Huh?” Ben is practically nose-to-nose with her. “Were you the one who took them? Do you always sneak around and spy on people? Fucking psychopath.”

  She’s glaring at him now, her lips pressed together in a thin line.

  Ben looks at me triumphantly. “I guess we have our answer. Charity Dern is a peeping tom.”

  “You don’t know anything,” she spits.

  “No?” His laugh is almost a cackle. “I think we know that you are a first-class bitch who’s hell-bent on destroying Sydney because you’re jealous of her.”