7. Chapter Six

Chapter Six

I wake with a start. It's bright. It's late. An arm is draped heavily over my waist, a body spooning my back.

"I swear on my life Garrett, if you-" My hiss is cut off by a grumble, a head of flame red hair popping up over my shoulder.

"Wha- what happened?" Kay rubs her dark eyes, glancing at her smart watch. "Shit!" Flinching away from me, I watch my roommate collapse off the bed and rush to grab her clothes and toiletry bag. "This is why we don't get shitfaced on weekdays! I've missed cross country. Where the hell is my bra?" Kay stops dead in the center of the room, nothing left to the imagination in her vest and panties. "Wait…did we…" I watch her gesture between the two of us and peer back to her own, perfectly made bed. I gasp.

"Oh God, no! No, no, no," I shake my head. The ache between my legs has stemmed from a very different source. Kay's shoulders relax but she snorts.

"Okay, good. No need to deny quite so much. It's not like you could handle-"

"Don't you have to be somewhere?" I blurt out, blushing furiously. Kay remembers herself, hurrying to grab her gym bag and flee the room, rushing to the showers. I groan, dragging the covers over my head. If there ever was a day to lie here and hide from the world, this is it. For the first time, I question why I'm still going along with Nixon's decision to move me here. Prior to last night, the prospect of living a life my mom hadn't carefully manufactured had its minor appeal. Akin to a social experiment. Well color me socially satisfied, because Garrett forced me to toe a line last night that I wasn't prepared for.

Who do you want it to be? His question has rung through my half-sleepy state all night and when I finally managed to find sleep, green eyes awaited me there. I can't be having these thoughts, thinking of him this way. I just wish my mind would get the memo and stop bringing the fantasy back to life every time I shift and feel the blissful ache between my legs. Yep, a day in bed sounds perfect.

BANG. BANG. BANG .

"Fuck my fucking life," I grumble, throwing the cover aside. Wrapping the cover around my nearly-naked self, I trip over the backpack at the end of my bed. Kay must have brought it back for me when I passed out last night. I momentarily pause to check my phone is in the front pocket. It is, but the black screen of death is all I get.

The banging on the door continues until I fling it open. The air is sucked from my lungs. Wyatt fills the doorway, crowding me back a few steps. Hatred rolls off him in waves, his intense green eyes glowering. They scan my face, my bare shoulders and the sheet clenched to my chest. I watch the pure disgust wash over his features before I snap back into myself.

"What the hell do you want?" I scowl back just as hard. Closing the door behind himself, Wyatt presses his back against it, refusing to come any further into my space. My heart hammers in my chest. Is this about last night; does he know what Garrett did? Was he actually there?

"What the hell happened to you?" He is momentarily distracted by the red welts circling my wrists. I roll my eyes. Well that answers that.

"Is there a reason you're in my room?" I crane my neck to meet his eyes. Wyatt shakes his head, remembering himself.

"I'm only going to give you one warning," he says darkly. His chest rises and falls heavily in a navy t-shirt, his dark jeans and black hightop sneakers left in a wide stance. Every muscle is rigid, causing veins to line his arms all the way down to clenched fists. The fantasy I've been replaying all night dies a sudden death. Wyatt would never touch me in any way other than to cause pain, and now I'm glaring at him, I wouldn't want him to. It's easy to create delusions about a figment of my imagination, but Wyatt is nothing more than the spoiled asshole who hates me. Holding himself flush against the wall, he inhales deeply to steady his disdain.

"Stay the fuck away from my friends. They don't know what a leech you are." My mouth drops open.

"A leech?!" I struggle to maintain my cool fa?ade. A fresh lash of anger races through me. I've been an idiot, letting myself forget just how callous Wyatt can be. Convincing myself that now we're older, he might just be able to redeem himself. "You're unbelievable," I shake my head and turn away. I can't have this argument without clothes on. Tugging a hoodie over my head, I hold the cover in place until it's pulled down to my silky pajama shorts. That will have to do.

"Do you have any idea what it was like every Christmas, birthday, thanksgiving?!" I spin around and throw my hands out. Wyatt's gaze lingers on my bare legs, his top lip hitched in disgust. "There was always a place set for you at the table, presents under the tree. Every holiday brought a lingering sadness that you weren't there. Mom would have done anything to have you come home."

"False," Wyatt snorts and looks away. "She wouldn't get rid of you. And she wasn't your mom." I'd heard similar before, but a sudden thud of hurt hits me center in the chest. Ten years. I was adopted ten years ago. I haven't spent a single night away from the Hughes Manor prior to this week, but it'll never be enough in Wyatt's eyes. I'll never be one of them.

"She was more mine than yours," I sigh, releasing my anger. The only person it will affect is me. "You weren't there, Wyatt. You sent her tulips each mother's day, but lilies were her favorite. You ignored all of the tickets she sent for galas or basketball games. She only wanted to spend time with you."

"Then she'd have worked harder. She'd have come here, or at least met me halfway. I was a child!" Wyatt slams his fist on the door. I just manage to conceal my flinch. "Why was it always up to me to make the journey? Why did it always have to be on your terms, at your home?" My mouth parts, the sliver of a young boy with a chip on his shoulder slipping through. He doesn't even see the manor as his home anymore.

"Wyatt, it was always-"

"I refuse to spend one night wherever you are." And there it is. The walls slam shut behind his green eyes, the asshole is back. Leaning back on my desk, I feel myself deflate. We're forever going to run in the circles of the same argument, neither of us escaping the endless cycle.

"Then I feel sorry for you. The next time you think about all of the time wasted, remember it's all because of your own stubbornness." Lowering my gaze to the space between us, silence settles over the messy room. Kay's usually neat bed is crumpled in her haste to grab what she needed from the overhead shelves. She knocked over a pencil pot along the way. I toy with one of those pencils now, rolling it beneath my foot. The quiet is unnerving, but I have nothing else to say. Finally, Wyatt shifts and opens the door.

"Stay the fuck away from all of us. They're my real family. You can't have them too." He flashes me a dare with those vibrant green eyes and I suddenly find my voice.

"Please extend the same courtesy their way. I wasn't the one crawling into Garrett's bed on my first day." Wyatt's gaze darkens. He nods and exits the room, taking all of my gusto with him. At the click of the door, I shrink into a ball on my mattress. That's the longest I've been in Wyatt's presence, and the closest he's permitted us to get. In my head, I've built him into more than a man. A monster of nightmares. A looming reminder that I'll never be a Hughes in the ways it matters.

After several steadying breaths, I build up the bricks around my heart and put my phone on charge. As soon as the screen lights up, I'm invested in searching for an outlet. Wyatt's had my fear for ten years; I refuse to give him another day. I'm a student of Waversea now and I intend to live like one.