Parker lets out a curse, making me flinch. But then he suddenly hauls me against his chest, letting me cry there, giving my back soothing pats as I flood his shirt with my tears.
We stay like that for a while. His chest steadily rises and falls, calming me until my tears subside. Until the only sound that can be heard is the quiet hum of the AC and the distant crashing of the waves on the shore.
Silently, I wiggle away and settle back into my seat, wiping at my cheeks. I can’t believe I cried into Parker’s chest. Embarrassed, I flick my gaze to his shirt and cringe—it’s soaked with tears and streaks of mascara.
Oh, God. I probably look like a racoon right now. Hell, I probably already looked like a racoon when he pulled me over.
“Don’t worry about it.”
“I can wash it at home,” I offer, my cheeks flaming as I fish out some wipes from my clutch to swipe at my eyes.
He gives me a funny look. “It’s just a shirt, Peaches.”
A very expensive shirt. And Peaches, really?
Nodding simply, I take another pull of my beer. Then lick some of the residue from my lips. “Do you think...they regret what they did? That they feel bad for hurting us?”
He laughs darkly. “Do you honestly believe that was the first time they'd done it?”
I shake my head, my shoulders sagging. “No.”
It’s probably been going on for a while. Tonight wasn’t the first time Liam acted cold and distant. He’s been that way for weeks. I was just too dumb to see it for what it was.
“I was finally ready to do it with him, you know. He’s been persistent in convincing me to sleep with him for over a year now. I told him to wait and I thought he did,” I scoff. “Apparently, he’s been occupying himself all this time.”
And with my best friend, no less. God, how could Peyton do this to me? She's more than my best friend. I've always seen her as a sister—sometimes, even more than Avery. Now it turns out she never felt the same way.
Has she been laughing and mocking me behind my back? Has she been taking great pleasure in knowing that she's sleeping with my boyfriend? Is this some kind of a sick game to her?
Suddenly, I have the urge to vomit.
“That’s not what he said.” A strange look crosses Parker’s face when I snap my eyes back to him.
“Why? What did he say?” But the look on his face says it all—Liam has been telling everyone we're already having sex. “That fucking asshole.”
If Parker was surprised to hear me curse, he doesn’t show it.
“I guess I should consider myself lucky, huh?” I sneer. “For dodging a bullet.”
He sighs. “He’s an idiot.”
I stare at him. “Why aren’t you looking so brokenhearted about this? You’re just being your usual brooding self. There's nothing new there. But you look hardly affected by what happened.”
Although he did manage to punch Liam in the face before I ran out of the party. Did he beat him up, pouring out all of his anger in the process? Is that why he doesn’t look miserable now?
Maybe I should have done that, too—beat up both Liam and Peyton. It seems to have been therapeutic for Parker.
“What’s the point? What’s done is done. Dwelling over it is a waste of time. We can’t change what happened.”
I snort. “That is such a guy thing to say.”
A small smirk pulls at the corners of his lips, but he doesn't comment.
Maybe his relationship with Peyton wasn't as serious as I thought. Just like my relationship with Liam hadn't been as strong as I was led to believe.
A twinge of pain lances my chest, reminding me that unlike Parker, I can’t be indifferent about the whole thing. Their betrayal hurts so much that I can’t pretend otherwise—no matter how hard I try to drown the truth and numb the pain with alcohol.
CHAPTER 3
Sawyer
I wake up to the sun hitting my face and my head pounding painfully, making me groan. Did Mildred come into my room again and draw the curtains to wake me up? But it's Sunday. There's no school, and it's her day-off.
Grumbling under my breath, I open my eyes and stumble out of my bed to close the curtains before falling back on top of my covers.
Wait, I'm in my room? But I don’t remember coming home last night. In fact, the last thing I remember is guzzling down my fourth can of Corona and Parker trying to take it from me.
We never left his car. So why am I here? Did I pass out and he took me home? Oh God, did he carry me up to my room?
I cover my face with my hands and groan aloud as memories from last night flood my mind. Getting into Parker's car after storming out of Carson's house. Telling him to take me anywhere but home. Coaxing him to drink with me and calling him boring when he refused. Ugly crying into his shirt. Twice.
Ugh. How humiliating.
God, I hope I didn’t puke in his car. That would make everything even more mortifying.
“Good. You’re awake.”
I sit up so fast that my head spins and the pain in my skull intensifies. I have a hangover. Awesome.
“Here. Take this.” Avery hands me an Advil and a glass of water.
Giving her a grateful look, I pop the capsule into my dry mouth and down it with water. Then I slip out of bed and head to our shared bathroom down the hall. After relieving my bladder, I make quick work of washing my face and brushing my teeth. Then cringe after taking a good look in the mirror. My hair is practically a
