Chapter Eight

Honey

My thumbs move furiously over my phone screen as I walk down the hall ignoring the hushed whispers from my peers. The lies are already spreading, and we've only been doing this fake dating thing for forty-eight hours.

Honey: We need to talk.

After pressing send, I toss my phone back into my bag and jut out my chin, trying to save face. It's stupid being petty about this, but if we're going to do this and be taken seriously, then I need to know where he is, at least. Bottom line, he missed history, and I was left on my own swerving questions from everyone about our relationship status. At first, I dodged a few questions, but then I started making up random crap about how he wooed me so they'd stop asking. It was fine until I got this weird festering feeling in my stomach that grew with every lie I told because I didn't know how Zach would react.

Then he didn't show up for math either. I heard the whispers. People think he's avoiding me already because I'm too high maintenance, and he's too chicken shit to face me. This is making me look worse.

As I walk down the hall, Tiffany keeps running through my mind. Who is she, and why is Zach so willing to drop everything for her? Skipping class has a hefty grade fine if he's caught, so she has to be someone special.

Standing at the door to study hall, I take a few deep breaths because, for the slightest of moments, everything feels like it's caving in on me. What am I doing? Why am I so bothered about Zach? Why did I want to get Jamie back so badly? Does any of this really matter?

When I've cleared my head of all the useless thoughts, I grasp the handle to go in. My phone buzzes in my bag, and I step back with a stupid amount of excitement.

That's gotta be Zach.

He knows how important this is for us.

Pulling out my phone, I frown when I see a different name flashing before me.

Olivia: As your best friend, you'd tell me if you had started dating Zach Evans, right?

Olivia: Because I keep getting asked about it, and I don't' know what to say anymore.

Olivia: Mentioned it to Mike since he's friends with Zach, and the guy nearly peed his pants and said I should talk to you.

Olivia: Typical politician. Always getting out of the hard questions.

Olivia: Granted, I didn't realize your relationship status might be a hard question until this morning.

Sighing, I shove my phone back into my bag without responding. I should have mentioned it to her over the weekend. I was a little too unsure and maybe too embarrassed to tell her until Zach and I talked it through.

Although, if the last twenty-four hours are anything to go by, maybe I was right to be cautious. I need to speak to her today, though. I'd rather not get between her and Mike over some stupid bet.

Suddenly, an arm curves around me, and a hand grasps the doorknob in front of me. I don't have to turn around to recognize the clunky designer shoes or the overpowering cologne.

"Honey." Jamie's deep, husky voice spreads to my toes. It's only been a few weeks since we spoke, but it feels like it's been a lifetime of isolation.

"What do you want?" I grit out.

"I just wanted to talk to you." His smile fades at the annoyance in my voice.

Checking my watch, I saddle my bag farther up my shoulder and clutch my books to my chest. "Well, you're about a week too late for me to care."

His shoulders slump, his eyes searching mine like they used to do when I thought he actually liked me. "Come on, Hon. I'd really like to talk to you."

A student sneaks past us, cutting off the tension between us and giving me more time to think. As much as I wanted Jamie to explain everything at first, I want nothing to do with him now.

I take a few steps back, but he tries to lace his hand with mine before I get too far. Snatching my arm away, I look down at his hand with my lip curled. "Don't you dare touch me."

He raises his hands, then runs one through his floppy brown hair. Dropping both arms, he sighs as though he's disappointed in me. "You're right. I'm sorry, but there are some things I need to talk to you about. I know it's not an ideal time, but my conscience won't be clean if I don't tell you."

I raise a brow. He wants to talk to me about a guilty conscience? Now? What a load of crap. Standing there, I wait for an explanation, but I get nothing. "Sorry, Jamie. I've got study hall." Stepping toward the door, he follows, blocking me from the entry.

"It's about Zach." Staring at his perfectly pressed shirt, I don't move because this is an interesting development. Of course he ignores me until he hears that I might be moving on.

"What about him?"

I look up, and the grin tells me everything I need to know. He thinks he's got me.

"Come with me and find out." He holds out his hand, and I stare at it. Does he really think I'm so in love with him that I'll melt at anything he says? His fingers wiggle suggestively when I don't take them immediately. Apparently so.

Watching his fingers dance, I say, "Fine." I shunt past him, away from my class, instead of taking his hand. "You've got five minutes, but that's it."

He follows me until I get to a quiet corner under the stairs. Spinning on my heels, I cross my arms and tilt my chin up. "Five minutes starts now."

Jamie laughs, scanning my body before our eyes connect, and he offers me a goofy grin. The same one that used to make my stomach flip.

"What's going on with you and Zach?" he asks.

"You can't be serious?" I knew this conversation would be about Zach, but I had the tiniest bit of hope that he might want to at least mention what happened between us. "That's the first thing you're going to ask me after I get sent a video of you making out with another girl? No ‘I'm sorry, Honey. I didn't mean to embarrass you in front of everyone'?"

Jamie stares at me blankly, probably surprised at how much my voice cracked at the end of that question. "No ‘I don't know what came over me'? Do you care that you literally ripped my heart out, stuffed it in a blender, and then tried to give it back to me?"

Tears I'd been holding back for the last few weeks are threatening to fall, so I stop talking to try and regain some composure.

His brows rise, and his deep, dark eyes bore into mine. Pain ricochets through my body, and it feels like he's hurt me all over again. "Honey… I—"

I raise my hand, halting his words. "Save it. I don't want your apology now, not after having to ask for it. Agreeing to talk to you was a stupid idea. I shouldn't have bothered."

Shoving past him, Jamie calls from behind me, "He's not interested in you." My ears perk up. Is he going to tell me about the bet? That would be the decent thing to do, but Jamie hasn't been decent in a long time.

I spin on my heel. "Oh really? What makes you think that? Because the way he touched me on Friday told me something completely different." Jamie grimaces, but I don't let that inflate my ego.

"Yeah, about that," he drawls out. "I'm sorry, Honey, but the only reason he kissed you was because he was making a point to me."

"Oh yeah?" I hold back how I feel about his unapologetic face because I want to see if he'll be the Jamie I thought I knew and tell me about the bet. "And what point would that be?"

He contemplates his words, and a tiny part of me hopes he chooses to say something. "He wants to prove he can take what's mine."

"I'm not yours, Jamie."

A wry smile lifts one side of his mouth, and his hand comes out to mine, lacing our fingers together. "Come on, Honey. Don't say that."

Snatching my hand away, I stare at him, gobsmacked. "As far as I'm concerned, I don't belong to anyone but especially not you."

He takes a few steps back. "He's my teammate. Imagine how it looks."

"Trying to slut-shame me now? That's rich from a guy who's dipped his dick into every girl in the school?" His jaw falls open, and his eyes go wide. "Did you really think letting that video spread wouldn't open the floodgates?"

My lip quivers as tears threaten to fall, but I hold them back. "I was sent photo after photo of you with your dick and mouth in places that proved I needed to get tested." As I take a heavy breath, I realize he doesn't know what to say or do. "Sorry, Jamie, but you lost all rights over telling me what I can and can't do once you made out with another girl."

"You're right, I can't control you, but I can tell your parents." My teeth clench because he thinks he can use them to control me even after all that. He thinks he knows me well enough that I won't go against anything they say. Well, he's got another thing coming.

"Do you really think my parents would believe a word that comes out of your mouth after the shit you put me through? Do you think my mom would even want you in the same room as me after how much you tarnished my reputation?" That silences him, surprised at my outburst. Yes, my mom has been hounding me to get back with Jamie, but that's not something I will ever let him know.

His mouth gapes open, then shuts again. He looks like a floundering fish, and I hold back my bitter laughter. "It's all fake for him," he hollers as I walk down the hall. "It's all because he wants to prove a point to the football team that he can get you."

I stop, standing tall on my heels, staring straight ahead. "That's funny, because the only person I remember faking was me when I was with you." I purse my lips, refusing to look back, and head straight to study hall.

Where the hell is Zach?