Even if it Hurts: A Toxic Romance, page 7
My stomach starts to ache. My head does, too. Probably from consuming so much caffeine on an empty stomach. Definitely not because I’m in the car with Dare.
“Glad I could help,” he says. “I have to admit, I was surprised you called me.”
The answer is simple, so I give it to him. “I didn’t have anyone else.”
He nods, then looks ahead and starts down the road toward the high school.
I have one more phone call to make, so I ask him if he minds, then I call the auto repair shop in our old town. It’s a drive and it will cost more to tow it there, but I want to see if it would be worth it for cheaper labor because I cannot swing the last quote.
When I hang up and rest the phone on my lap, Dare glances over at me. “What’d they say?”
I just feel fucking sad. Utterly defeated. I open the Chase app on my phone so I can double check Mom’s credit card balance.
I have about $1,200 left on that credit limit, so if I have to spend $600 on tires, another $100 for labor, and then another $90 for a tow…
Fuck.
It’s too soon for the money to run out.
Maybe I can apply for another credit card.
I feel sick.
“Aubrey.”
His voice calls my attention back to him, but I don’t have it in me to hide my distress. “That I’m fucked.”
“How much?”
“Like $800.”
“That’s not so bad.”
“Maybe not to you.” I shake my head, turning to look out the window so he doesn’t see tears gathering in my eyes.
If I blow all this money on tires, how the hell am I going to pay the mortgage next month? Even if I pick up a ton of extra shifts I can’t make enough, and that’s not even factoring in bills, groceries, gas, credit card payments.
Fuck.
“She’s paying for those tires,” I say suddenly, shaking my head. “I found her fingernail. I know it was Anae. If she doesn’t pay for it, I’m going to the police.”
“Why don’t you let me take care of it?” he suggests.
I look over at him. “What?”
“I’ll buy you new tires.”
My stomach hollows out. “Why?”
He shrugs, looking ahead with one hand on the wheel as he drives. “Money is obviously an issue for you. For me, it isn’t. Leave your keys with me, I’ll have it taken care of today.”
I can’t believe he’s being so nice. I can’t take him up on it, though… right? “Are you doing this for me, or for her?”
“Does it matter?” he asks, meeting my gaze.
It shouldn’t even be a question. I mean, he’s her boyfriend, so he should be doing it for her.
But I don’t trust him. He doesn’t strike me as a great boyfriend, and he’s not known for doing nice things without at least having ulterior motives.
“Just answer the question.”
He takes his time answering. Dare doesn’t like when people demand things of him, I know that much. I almost bite my tongue thinking maybe I should just shut up and let him do it. I can’t afford to pay the bill myself, so who cares why he’s doing it?
But I can’t help it. I care. I want to know.
“For you,” he finally says.
My spine stiffens. That’s the right answer, but the wrong one, too. “Why? We’re not even friends. Why do you keep doing things for me?”
I feel his eyes on me. “Maybe I want to be your friend.”
My lips curve up faintly. “I don’t believe you.”
“Why?”
I look over at him. “Because everyone knows you’re a liar.”
“Yeah?” There’s an edge to his tone, despite how casually he says it.
Maybe it’s because he didn’t laugh it off and his tone caught me off-guard, but it begins to feel like that was a really mean thing to say.
Sure, I’ve heard that, but it doesn’t entirely match up with what I’m seeing for myself. He was an ass the night he saved me, but since then… I don’t know. He’s being kind of nice to me.
What if he was just posturing that night? What if his reputation isn’t entirely accurate?
What if he’s truly trying to be nice to me, and I’m being the asshole?
Since I feel like one, I swallow and say, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have… that wasn’t nice.”
I feel his gaze on me. I meet it, and see curiosity reflected there. “Are you a nice girl, Aubrey?”
I smile a bit sadly. “I used to be. Now, I’m just tired.”
“What’s making you so tired?”
I don’t even want to answer that question, but it bubbles up inside me, desperate to get out. “My whole life. The weight of so much responsibility resting solely on my shoulders. The possibility that I’m doing my absolute best and it’s not even close to being good enough, that it won’t change anything.”
“What would make your life easier?”
Money.
Help.
A freaking miracle.
I don’t say any of that.
We’re at the school now, pulling into Dare’s reserved parking space right up front.
Looking over at him, I say, “I don’t need anyone to make my life easier, I just need people not to make it any harder.”
“Am I making your life harder?”
“Probably. You are the reason Anae slashed my tires in the first place.”
“Yeah?” He holds my gaze, a challenge glinting in his. “How’s that?”
“Because you invited me to your bonfire on the beach.”
“I invited a lot of people to that bonfire,” he states. “Only your tires were slashed.”
I guess I can’t really argue that. Anything I can say feels arrogant and presumptive. “Well, I need it to stop. I don’t have the resources to battle Anae or the desire to deal with her drama, and there’s honestly no good reason for her to have a problem with me.”
“What if there is?” he asks idly.
“There isn’t,” I answer, surprised by my own forcefulness.
His question reminds me of the things Anae said when she texted me last night. I was dumbfounded when those texts rolled in accusing me of basically going after her boyfriend.
He’s the one who keeps popping up in my world, not the other way around.
She’s probably running things through her own filter, though. Anae is obviously so petty she’d go to any length to get under an opponent’s skin. She would absolutely seduce a guy just to hurt his girlfriend, so she thinks I’d do the same.
She’s wrong, though.
I may not like Anae, but I’m not about to stoop to her level.
It would be too uncomfortable to say any of this to him, though. I don’t even know if he thinks he’s being inappropriate. Maybe he thinks he’s just being nice.
Probably not, though.
In my experience, guys know when they’re stepping over a line, some are just too cowardly to admit it.
I don’t want to know if he’s that kind of guy. I don’t want to know anything else about him. He’s the boyfriend of Anae Richards, so his involvement in my life can only possibly complicate it.
Add that to the list of shit I can’t afford.
Maybe I’m better off if he doesn’t help me.
I’ll go straight to the source. I can prove Anae did it, so if she refuses to pay for the damage she caused, I really will go to the police. It’s not something I have time for, but I’ll do it, anyway. I can’t let her keep getting away with shit—that will only embolden her. She needs to face the consequences of her actions.
I reach for my bag in the floorboard and yank it up on my lap. “Anyway, I don’t want to be late to my first class. You don’t have to pay for my tires to be replaced. It was kind of you to offer, and I appreciate the ride, but I’d rather deal directly with Anae.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“I appreciate your input,” I say, opening the car door and climbing out.
I hear his car door open. “That sure sounds a lot like, ‘thanks, but I didn’t fucking ask you,” he remarks.
I can’t help smiling as I grab my backpack and hoist it on my right shoulder. “Wow, you really excel at reading between the lines, don’t you?”
He smirks, joining me on the curb and falling into step beside me. I can’t help but read into his mildly suggestive tone as he says, “If you got to know me, I think you’d find I really excel at a lot of things.”
“Just not taking notes,” I say solemnly.
With exaggerated cockiness, he says, “That’s grunt work. Below my pay grade.”
I’m still amused, but that feeling ebbs as we near the entrance doors and everybody seems to be watching us. I’ve walked through these doors plenty of times over the course of my high school career, but I’ve never experienced it this way, like I’m walking the red carpet with an A-lister on my arm.
I guess because I’ve never had an A-lister on my arm, but Dare is definitely an A-lister at Baymont High. Maybe the A-lister. Sure, he might be mentally unstable, but his dad is richer than God, and his mom is a former Miss Bolivia who was in the Miss Universe pageant and everything. Between his looks, money, and general coolness, there’s no one more popular at this school.
I’m uncomfortable with all the attention, but when I glance over at Dare, it doesn’t seem to faze him. Maybe because this is what it’s like for him every day. On the way in, a dozen people call out greetings. I feel hotter and hotter with each returned wave, each set of eyes seeing us together.
I’m already feeling claustrophobic, then the air is sucked from my lungs as Dare casually drapes his arm around my neck and over my shoulders, keeping me close as we enter the main hall. “While I can understand your desire to skip the middleman and go straight to Anae, it is true what you said: it’s ultimately my fault your tires were slashed.”
Oh my god, there are people everywhere and I feel all of their eyes trained on us. I try to shrug off his arm, but he just pulls me closer.
“Are you crazy?” I demand, trying—and failing—to pull out of his grasp. I look over at him, wide-eyed. “People are staring. Let me go.”
He smiles like the wolf cornering Little Red Riding Hood in the woods. “No problem. I’ll let you go as soon as you give me your keys.”
I gape at him, disbelieving. “Are you… blackmailing me into letting you pay for my car repairs?”
“That seems like dramatic terminology, but yeah, I guess if you want to word it that way, you can.”
I gape for another few seconds, but then I look around and see people staring at us and speaking in hushed tones. A girl with black pigtails grabs her phone and angles it like she’s about to take our picture.
To report back to the evil queen, no doubt.
Dare notices the girl about to take our picture. Rather than let go and move away like a normal guy about to get caught in a compromising position, he leans closer. “Tick tock, mermaid. We have an audience.”
“You are an actual mental patient,” I say, my face on fire. “But fine. If you’re that adamant about it, you can have the stupid car fixed. Now, please let me go before your girlfriend literally murders me.”
Dare lets go, smirking as he steps away. “There. Now, was that so hard?”
I shake my head. “Yes, actually. You made it extremely difficult.”
He holds out his empty palm expectantly. “Keys.”
I hesitate, glancing at the girl with the phone. I guess she already took her picture because now she’s looking at her phone screen.
It still feels like a bad idea, but I unzip the side pocket and dig out my keys.
He grabs them. “You need your house key?”
“Oh.” I grab them back, singling out my house key so I can keep it.
Before I can take it off the ring, he says, “On second thought, you can leave it. I’ll make sure you have your keys back before school’s over.”
I look up at him uncertainly. “Are you sure?”
He looks back, not a single flicker of uncertainty in his gaze. If he told me right now he’s never felt uncertainty in his life, I’d believe him—and I’d be really jealous. “I’m sure.”
“Okay.” I let go of the keys and absently mess with the straps hanging from the bottom of my backpack. “Um… do you need my phone number or anything?”
He shakes his head. “I have it.”
I frown. “You do?”
He nods, but doesn’t explain how or why he has my number.
I guess it doesn’t matter, so I don’t bother asking.
“I guess I’ll see you after school then?”
He nods, watching me as he backs away. “I guess you will.”
Chapter nine
Aubrey
Dare isn’t in English class when I get there.
He usually gets there and takes his seat first, so I think today may be the day he realizes we have this class together, but it’s not.
He doesn’t show up at all.
That’s really weird since we showed up to school together today, so he has to be here.
Right?
I hope he’s not missing class because he’s dealing with my car problems.
It leaves me a little uncertain as the school day approaches its end and I have no idea what’s going on with my car. Dare hasn’t texted me, so I don’t know where it will be. Parked in the parking lot somewhere? Will we have to go pick it up?
Once I’m done at my locker, I head out front and find Dare’s parking space. His car is parked there, so I know he hasn’t left. I don’t think he has practice after school today, but I don’t know. I know he’s on the swim team, but I have no idea what their practice schedule looks like, or if it’s even the season for that. I imagine if he had something going on, he would have told me.
I feel awkward standing by his car as everyone files out of the school, so I dig my phone out and DM him to let him know I’m here.
He doesn’t answer, but he comes out with a group of his friends a few minutes later. I watch them all say their goodbyes and wander off, a couple of them glancing at me by his car and smirking before they go.
I sigh, knowing today is probably going to make waves.
I shouldn’t care. It’s Anae’s own fault, plus she got me in trouble at work, so screw her, but… well, it’s unlikely to make my life easier if she hates me.
“I have good news and bad news,” Dare says as he approaches the car and opens his door.
I tentatively open the passenger door, too. “What’s the bad news?”
He drops in, so I slide in as well. Looking over at me with a grim expression on his face, he says, “The auto repair shop didn’t have your tires in stock. Since they had to order them, we should be able to pick it up tomorrow after school, but you won’t have your car tonight.”
I sigh heavily, sinking back against the seat. “And the good news?”
He smiles over at me as he fires up the engine. “That means you get to spend more time with me.”
I cock an eyebrow. “Are you volunteering to be my personal chauffeur until I get my car back?”
“At your service. I’ll pick you up in the morning and drop you off after school to get your car.”
“That’s really nice of you, but I feel bad.”
“No need.” He checks the rearview mirror, then starts to back out.
“I hate to ask, but I was planning to stop at the store for chicken and a few other things for dinner. Would you mind? You can drop me off at the door if you want and I’ll be as quick as I can, I just hate to pay for delivery when I only need a few things.”
“No problem. Damn, I can’t remember the last time I went grocery shopping. I’ll come with you. It’ll be fun.”
“To… grocery shop?”
“We have staff that handles stuff like that at my house. I can probably count on one hand how many times I have personally stepped foot into a grocery store.”
I gape at him. “Are you serious?”
He nods. “My mom has stopped at the grocery store to grab cheap wine a couple of times after fighting with my dad and took me with her, and a couple of times we went out late at night to get ice cream for an impulsive treat, but yeah, we don’t do our own grocery shopping. Never have.”
I can’t fathom what he’s saying. “Do you know how to cook?”
He laughs. “No. God, no. I can make hot chocolate. Does that count?”
I laugh, not meaning to make fun of him, but my God, who can only make hot chocolate? “No, that doesn’t count.”
He shrugs. “I’ve never had to.”
“You should still know how. What will you do when you go off to college? Bring a maid with you?”
“Maybe, if she’s hot. You’re not in the market for a new job, are you?”
I can tell by his too-charming smirk he’s only teasing me, but he still turns my cheeks pink. “I might be. What’s it pay?” I joke right back.
He slides me a sideways glance. “Depends on your skill set.”
I can’t ignore the suggestion in that statement, but I try. “Well, I’m a very good cook,” I tell him. “I’m just okay at cleaning. Can’t say it’s a passion of mine, but I can get the job done.”
“I’d have to sample the goods and see you in the uniform before I could make a firm decision.”
I nod. “And I’d have to scoop out all of my dreams and aspirations, so it sounds like we both need time.”
Dare cracks a smile. “Not into the domestic gig, huh?”
“Part-time, sure, but I need something of my own, too. Men leave, so I’m not about to tie my entire well-being to one. Maid, wife—if my status depends on a man’s whim, it’s not going to be the basket I drop all my eggs in.”
“Ouch. Someone had a bad break-up,” he jokes.
My lips curve up faintly, but I’m not amused. “Something like that.”
“Who was the guy?” he asks.
“No one you know.”
“I know everyone,” he states.
