“Why didn’t you tell them the truth about Landon and me?” he asks, changing the subject.
“Because you obviously didn’t want them to know.”
“Still, why would you keep my secrets?”
“Because they are not mine to tell.”
He looks over to me with hooded eyes and a slight smile. “I wouldn’t have blamed you if you did, considering what I did with Noah.”
“Yeah, well, I am not you.”
“No, no you’re not,” he says, his voice much quieter. And after that he remains silent for the rest of the drive, as do I. I have nothing to say to him.
We finally pull onto campus and he parks in the farthest possible spot from my room. Of course.
I reach for the door handle and Hardin’s hand touches my thigh again. “You’re not going to thank me?” He smiles and I shake my head.
“Thanks for the ride,” I say sarcastically. “Hurry back—Molly’s waiting,” I add as I climb out. I hope he didn’t hear me; I am not sure why I even said that.
“Yeah . . . I better. She sure is fun when she’s drunk,” he says with a smirk.
Trying to hide the fact that I feel like he just punched me in the stomach, I lean down to look at him through the passenger window and Hardin rolls it down. “Yeah, I am sure she is. Noah’s coming soon, anyway,” I lie and watch his eyes narrow.
“He is?” Hardin picks at his fingernails, a nervous habit, I assume.
“Yep, see you around.” I smile and walk off.
I hear him get out of his car and shut the door. “Wait!” he says and I turn around. “I . . . never mind, I thought you, um, dropped something but you didn’t.” His cheeks flush. He’s clearly lying, and I want to know what he was going to say, but I need to walk away now, so I do just that.
“Bye, Hardin.” The words mean more than I let on. I don’t look back to see if he is coming after me because I know he isn’t.
I TAKE THE HEELS OFF before I even get to my room and walk barefoot the rest of the way through campus. The second I get into the room I put my fuzzy pajamas back on and call Noah. He answers on the second ring.
“Hey,” I squeak. My voice sounds too high-pitched. It’s only Noah, why am I so nervous?
“Hey, Tessa, how was your day today?” he asks softly. He doesn’t sound like the same distant Noah that I’ve gotten all week. I sigh in relief.
“It was okay, actually, I am just hanging out in my room tonight. What are you doing?” I purposely leave out my dinner with Steph and everyone, including Hardin. That will not help my “please forgive me” campaign.
“I just got out of practice. I’m thinking I’ll study tonight because I’m helping the new neighbors cut a tree down tomorrow.”
He is always helping everyone. He is too good for me.
“I’m just studying tonight, too.”
“I wish we could study together,” he says, and I smile while picking at the tiny lint balls on my fuzzy socks.
“You do?”
“Yeah, of course, Tessa. I still love you and I miss you. But I have to know that nothing like this will ever happen again. I’m willing to try to put this past us, but you have to promise me you will stay away from him,” he says. He doesn’t have to say his name.
“Of course I will, I swear—I love you!” Part of me knows that I am desperate to have Noah forgive me only because I don’t want to be completely alone and fawning over Hardin, but I ignore it.
After exchanging more “I love you’s” with Noah, he agrees to accompany me to the bonfire next weekend and we get off the phone. I look online for the closest car dealerships to campus, and lucky for me there appears to be a good number of used-car lots ready to rip off college students. After noting the addresses of a few, I dig through Steph’s makeup bag and finally find the wipes to remove all my makeup. It takes forever, and this obnoxious process alone makes me never want to wear it again, regardless of how good it looked.
Chapter forty-one
I take out my notes and textbooks and dive into my studies. I am working on next week’s assignments. I like to stay ahead one week at least so there is no chance I fall behind. But my thoughts drift to Hardin and his moodiness, so I’m not really paying attention to the essay I’m supposed to be writing. It has been only two hours since I got off the phone with Noah, but it seems like four.
I decide to find a movie and lie in bed until I fall asleep, settling on The Vow despite the fact that I have seen it numerous times. Less than ten minutes into the movie I hear someone cursing outside in the hall. I turn the volume up on my laptop and ignore the cursing; it’s Friday, which means drunk people all over the dorms tonight. A few minutes later, I hear the cursing again—a male voice, then a female voice joins in. The guy shouts louder, and then I recognize the accent. It’s Hardin.
I jump off my bed and swing open the door to find him sitting on the floor with his back against the wall outside my room. An angry girl with bleach-blond hair is standing over him, scowling with her hands on her hips.
“Hardin?” I say, and he looks up.
A huge grins slides over his face. “Theresa . . .” he says and begins to stand.
“Can you please tell your boyfriend to get away from my door—he spilled vodka all over the floor!” the girl yells.
I look at Hardin. “He’s not my . . .” I start to say, but Hardin grabs my hand and pulls me toward my door.
“Sorry for the spill,” he says and rolls his eyes at the blonde. She huffs and storms into her room, slamming her door.