Are You In The House Alone? (plus: Love Me) (5 page)

CHAPTER 22

I didn’t talk to Garrett for the
rest of the semester. If we chanced to pass each other in the school hallway,
I’d look the other way. The thing was, though—he’d wince and look the
other way too.

I swear, he
literally
winced whenever he saw me. It killed.

I hated him … but unfortunately, I
ached for him too.

It was so stupid.

He
ruined
me.

In more ways than one.

I mean, we friggin’
SLEPT
together. That is a huge
deal—like
major
. Like there’s
nothing bigger. And yet I don’t even remember it. Not a thing. I was drunk and
he took major advantage. It’s so sad because I expected more of him. Wayyy
more. (Did I mention I hate him?)

He’s a low-life, creepy, dirt-bag.

I mean, we had SEX!!!

Sex!!!!

That thing I was saving for true
love.

Gone.

Given to “The Giver.”

Well, not even really
given
, he just took it.

… Okay, okay (cringe) I remember
now that I had a part in it. Drunkenly planned to actually do it—have
sex
with him. But he took
away my first time. I hadn’t even been present of mind enough to even remember
a single thing about it. Not. One. Thing.

And now—now the creep won’t
even look at me.

He took my virginity, and now he
winces
at the sight of me.

That is
so
painful.

It’s like a slug in the gut every
time I see him.
Wham, wham, wham
.

I guess what he had meant that
day—when he said he’d done something “bad”—what he meant was, he
purposefully seduced me when he blindfolded me. Seduced me for the single, sole
purpose of breaking my heart. I guess it was his revenge for his mom somehow.
In his bitter mind, my mom had hurt his mom by marrying his dad, so he
purposefully hurt me (my mom’s daughter) to get revenge on my mom. Crush her
daughter.

Make her ache and pine for him …
then leave. Move out of the house, right after making her think she was
cherished and loved. The dude moved out
right
after. It was like a slap in the face.

Man, he sucked.

I guess that’s what he meant when I
told him he ruined my life—he informed me, “You have no idea.”

I didn’t realize the pain would go
on and on—but he did.

He knew.

CHAPTER 23

A month into the new semester,
Garrett transfers into my chemistry class. Not voluntarily. Obviously. I mean,
that becomes apparent quickly. ‘Cause I see him wince when he notices me in the
class. He actually
blanches
at
the sight of me. Like:
Oh no, I’m going
to have to see her everyday.

Yeah well, I’m not exactly going to
dance a jig seeing you everyday either, Garrett. So get over yourself, demon
from hell. (In fact, go back there.)

I see him give me another tiny
(involuntary) peek before he hesitantly goes and sits at the back of the class
with a pack of mean girls that I hate. Well, more like they hate
me
—so I hate them back in
defense.

The leader of their pack wants me
dead, apparently. But I’m innocent! I swear!! Her name is Carly. Her boyfriend
(well, now
ex
-boyfriend) had
some weird, bizarre crush on me last semester while they were dating. She
blamed
me
for it. But I was
totally, totally innocent. I was busy dating my gay boyfriend. I didn’t even
look
at other guys, let alone flirt with
them.

Carly gives me a smug look when
Garrett slouches into the seat next to her. She does it like she knows I’m
pining for him. I want to flip her off. And him off. And the whole frickin’
world off.

I turn back around and glare
straight ahead.

This is going to be a really fun semester.

CHAPTER 24

After class, while I’m loading up
my mess of books, someone slides into the seat next to me. I do a double-take
when I see who it is: Garrett.

His lips quirk with amusement at my
stunned expression.

He ducks his head slightly, then
glances back into my eyes. “Look, I know you hate me,” he says. “But you still
have coupon from me. You could use it and still hate me.”

I spit out angrily, “I don’t want
you to even
touch
me.”

He smirks, “Somehow I don’t think
that’s true.”

I growl and get up from my seat.

He follows.

“Brandy, I really did give you the
coupon because I’m a good back massager—and right now you look like you
could use it—me.”

I turn and glare at him.

He raises his eyebrows and smirks.
“I mean the massage.”

I roll my eyes. “You did
not
give me the coupon because you give
good back massages. You gave me the coupon because you didn’t buy me a gift.”

He twitches a sheepish grin. Slowly
he shakes his head. “You’re wrong. I did buy you a gift—
extremely
expensive perfume. That stuff
you always came home wearing after you went to your rich friend, April’s,
house. I bought it … but then I gave you the coupon instead. I wanted an excuse
to give you a massage.”

Man, he’s such a player. Dog!

He really expects me too believe
that??

I roll my eyes incredulously. “You
bought
me perfume.”

His answer is a slow nod.

I huff incredulously, “But you
decided to give me a
coupon
instead?”

He nods slightly again, then adds,
“I gave you the perfume, though.”

I tilt my head. He
did
give me perfume—the perfume I
love. The perfume I could never, ever afford, so I used to douse it on me every
time I went to April’s. I
LOVE
that
perfume.

Garrett looks into my eyes, and
murmurs softly, “Remember?”

I do remember him giving it to me
now. The day after my birthday he had knocked on my bedroom door and said,
“Hey, do you want this?” causally holding up the fancy bottle for me to see.

When my eyes lit up, he shook his
head, “Don’t get all mushy about it—a girl forgot it in my room … and I’m
hoping not to ever see her again.”

“Romantic,” I muttered.

He’d grinned at that. Then offered
softly, “Do you want it?”

The world kind of spins now as I
peek up at him. “There wasn’t a girl?”

He shakes his head slowly, “No
girl.”

He murmurs, “Just you.”

My knees go weak.

“Hey Garrett,” the hockey coach
says loudly, breaking us from our spell. (Well, I was under a
spell—Garrett might have just been being a player.) The coach teases,
“Stop flirting with girl and get to gym.”

‘Yeah,’
I think, trying to shake my mushy daze and get a grip,
‘Stop flirting with the girl, Garrett.’

Garrett grins at me, “Okay, well,
remember, the coupon is good for anytime—you can use it and still hate
me. Girls do it all the time.”

“I bet,” I murmur.

Then I wobble shakily to my next
class.

Breathless and dizzy.

CHAPTER 25

Garrett’s been in my chemistry
class for two weeks now. It’s been super fun. (Not.) Anytime I peek to the back
of the classroom at him, a small smile spreads on his lips and he winks.

He catches me
every
time.

Groan!

I really wish I could control
myself and not look at him. But he’s like a magnet to my eyes. A very
hot
magnet. One that I’d like to
throw into the garbage disposal, yet tongue-kiss really, really hard before I
do it.

Yesterday after he caught me
staring he sent me a text:
‘Fantasizing a back rub?’

‘You wish.’

‘Yeah, Brandy. I do.’

Why is he suddenly like this? He
went from wincing at the sight of me, to totally flirting with me again.

Talk about a game player—the
dude is totally messing with my mind. And heart. On purpose.

I hate him!!!

(I just wish I could convince my
stupid heart of that.)

CHAPTER 26

Today in chemistry our teacher
announced we’d be having a huge test tomorrow. I groaned. Loudly.

There’s this big study group I’d
like to be a part of—I could definitely use the help. But Evil Carly
always has the group meet at her house, and she’s made it more than clear I’m
not welcome—in fact she came right out and said it.

So, it’s quite shocking when she
and her friend come up to me as I’m at locker and say: “Brandy do you want to
come to our study group tonight?”

My jaw drops. Literally.

I blink and tilt my head. “Really?”

I squint at her. “I thought you
said I could only come to your study group if ‘hell froze over.’”

“It did,” her friend, Olivia,
laughs teasingly. “The guy she likes said he won’t come to the session unless
we let you come.”

I squint again. “Really? Who’s the
guy?”

Olivia smiles mischievously, “Your
ex-stepbrother, ‘The Giver.’”

My breath hitches and my stomach
drops and my heart gets all spazzy.

But I try to get a grip and remind
myself—the guy is a total player. This is just another of his head games.
He’s trying to torture me—one minute being all hot and passionate, the
next freezing cold. He’s been like that from the first moment he got to our
house—glaring, then flirting.

Besides, Carly is a witch. I in no
way want to help her out.

Through gritted teeth I tell her,
“Can’t. I’m busy.” (Doing my nails.)

“Oh come
on
, please come,” Olivia coaxes. “He said he won’t come
unless you’re there.”

My stomach drops again and all
kinds of strange things happen to my insides.

Olivia goes on with her
desperate-ish coaxing, “He’s a brainiac, we actually need the guy—you do
too. He’s our only hope to pass the test. Please come, Brandy. Pleeeease.”

Ugh! I really do need the help.

I draw out a breath. “Okay, fine.
I’ll come.”

CHAPTER 27

In the end I don’t go to Carly’s. I
chicken out. I don’t want to see Garrett. I mean, I had sex with the guy.
SEX!!! And then he never even
talked
to me. No apology. No nothing. Just winces and blanching and looking away. And
then—then an offer for a
back
massage. (???) Really? Is that how guys handle unappreciated sex
?—‘Here, have a back massage.’

Well, no thanks.

I can’t handle a night with him
and
Carly. No way. Talk about torture!
I’d rather poke out my eyeballs.

A little after seven, I get a text
from Garrett. He’s obviously at the study group.
“The witchy girls that were mean
to you about boyfriend drama said they invited you here.”

I blink. Then text:
“How
did you know they were mean to me?”

“Thin walls. Phone calls to best
friend … same way I know most of the stuff about you.”

Embarrassment slices through me. He
had heard me whine to April while he lived here?

The dude knows way more about me
than I realized.

Still, no way. As was just made
even more clear, the dude knows wayyy more about me than I’m comfortable with.
Like, what I look like naked. And … other humiliating stuff.

… and it left him “regretful.”

So he can go fork himself.

I text back:
“Not going.”

Garrett:
“Come on, you’d rather flunk than
be in the same room with me for an hour?”

“That about sums it up.”

“Ouch.”

Yeah, my sentiments exactly.

CHAPTER 28

“Thanks a lot for not showing last
night, Brandy,” Olivia says all bitter-like as she passes my desk in chemistry.
She huffs, “Garrett bailed on us as soon as he found out you weren’t coming.”

I glance back at Garrett. He raises
his eyebrows at my stare, Like, ‘Oh, you won’t be in the same room as me, but
you’ll sure stare your eyes off.’

I quickly dart my gaze away from
him, and glance back at angry Olivia. I draw out a breath, “Look, Carly is
really mean to me.”

Her eyes soften a little. “I know,”
she grumbles.

Then she adds, “But the rest of us
needed his help too.”

“Well,
the ‘rest’ of you aren’t that nice to me either.”
I don’t tell her this out
loud though. I know it’s Carly’s fault they usually ice me out. But geez, it
would be nice if some stood up for me sometimes.

 
… like Garrett did.

CHAPTER 29

I’m almost positive I bombed my
chemistry test. Or anyway, did really, really bad. (Like, got a ‘C.’)

As I’m wallowing about it (okay,
listening to sad music—which I do a lot these days anyway, ever since I
was blindfolded and kissed passionately, then promptly slapped in the face, by
the kisser immediately moving out of the house, and then having SEX with me,
then immediately wincing about it,
THEN
offering me a back-rub)—anyway, while I’m wallowing about that stuff, I
decide to text my cousin, Amanda Blake.

I love Amanda, but I haven’t seen
her in ages. She’ll make me feel better though, she always does.

I give her a quick update:
“My
mom’s second marriage officially went up in flames last week.”

Then I add
, “Speaking of flames … ”
I send her a picture of the two of us in
bikinis. We had a passing stranger take the picture of us at the beach last
year—because there was a famous kid celebrity in the background. We were
goofy and thought we were hilarious.

I add with the picture:
“Good
times!”

Then I get a text back:
“The
best. Thanks for the picture. You look hot in that bikini—even hotter
than most of the guys at school probably fantasies. You know they fantasize,
right? I’ll post the picture on my webpage for them.”

What?!!!

Oh no! My stomach drops.

I meant to send the picture to my
cousin—Amanda Blake. But I accidently sent it to this sleazy guy from the
hockey team—
Blake
Andrews.

Gulp.

I quickly type:
“Please
don’t post it.”

“Why not? Guys will be glad to
see it—I know
I
was glad
to see it.”

“Blake, please don’t. I’m
begging
you.”

“Wow, begging me. Okay … I guess
we can work out a deal.”

“I have no money.”

“That’s okay. I don’t need your
money. I need something else from you.”

Uh-oh.