I ignore what was clearly mean to be a jibe.
“It’s just … I’m trying to figure out how you ended up here.”
Sterling lets out another one of those sighs and stretches one leg out lazily in front of him. Despite the gesture, the ease of our earlier conversation has already evaporated.
“Why do you want to know?” he asks with almost tangible hesitation.
“Just curious. I like to know a little about the parents of the boys I date,” I tease.
For a second, Sterling’s eyes widen.
“Relax,” I say. “I was kidding. I know this isn’t really a date.”
He looks a little more at ease now, but also almost … a little disappointed, which is surprising to say the least. Did I really want Sterling to think this was a date?
More importantly … had I actually forgotten it wasn’t?
“Do you really have a drug problem?” I blurt out, suddenly.
Why not cut right to the chase? We’re all here because we either did something messed-up, or because our parents thought we did. I want to know which one of those two scenarios was the case for Sterling. Either he has a legitimate drug problem, or he just has an overbearing father like mine who had convinced himself that his son was on the brink of screwing up his life for good.
Though from the sounds of it, overbearing father is what I would put money on if this was a bet.
“It’s not something I’m proud of,” he says as he diverts his eyes to look out at the campus buildings instead of at me, “but people just don’t get how hard it is to deal with certain kinds of parents.”
I know what he means.
It may have started out as rebellion, but now it’s become something more than that. Something it was never meant to become.
Overbearing father or not … I suddenly find myself feeling more than a little guilty. It’s an emotion I shove down deep, burying it beneath a reminder of what I’m actually here for.
Because, like Sterling was so kind to remind me only moments earlier, this is not a date.
We both stare out vacantly in front of us for a moment. I know my mind is reeling, trying to piece together how this new information could be useful to me.
But I can’t help but wonder what’s turning over in his mind.
That was a valuable little piece of information that could help me break him down the line—but it was given so freely, something feels wrong about using it. These guys are proving to be a lot easier to crack than I had expected. Either that or they are just dead awful at keeping secrets.
Either way works for me.
“Do you still take drugs?” I ask. I’ve already opened Pandora’s box on the subject, might as well do a deep-dive.
“Not right this moment,” he says as he shifts his eyes back to look at me.
His eyes are really gorgeous in the dim light. I can see why Bridget is so crazy over him.
I wonder what their relationship actually is.
I mean, I guess I know they’re dating now, but I haven’t gotten a feel as to how serious it is. From the way that Bridget makes it seem, she’s already planning their wedding. But Sterling seems like he’s having a little bit too much fun with me tonight than he should be for a guy that is seriously involved.
Seriously involved.
I stare ahead, my eyes level with the darkening line of trees.
It’s hard to imagine Sterling being seriously involved with anything, let alone anyone.
And certainly not me.
No matter how much his eyes sparkle in the dying light.
Chapter Six
“Here,” Bridget huffs as she dumps all of her clothes onto my side of the room.
Half of them land on the bed and the other half land on the floor. There are enough clothes here to last the rest of the semester without ever having to wear the same outfit twice. And that’s even if I didn’t have to keep wearing some variation of the school uniform during the week.
“Thanks,” I say as I scoop them up and start to look through them.
I can see that she’s still standing there staring at me.
“What the hell made you think that you could go on my date with Sterling?”
I turn around to look at her and see her face contorted into a bitter frown.
“He told you about that huh?” I ask. Of course, I knew that he would … I just don’t know why I didn’t think she’d find out about it so soon.
I guess she got ahold of her burner after all.
A little part of me wonders if Sterling knew all along.
“Of course he told me,” she hisses. “We’re dating.”
I have to stifle a laugh. Dating is a strong word. All of a few weeks ago he was dumping another girl at her house party. Even if they have managed to sneak in a couple dates since then, I’d hardly call it dating.
Anyway, I’m not sure that word can be used in context to Sterling, not at least in the traditional sense.
“Well, I was just trying to help,” I say, knowing that my reply will make her even more mad than she already is.
“What kind of girl ‘helps’ another girl by sneaking a date with her boyfriend while she’s not around?” she asks.
Oof.
She catches my look, but only presses her lips tightly together.
“A slutty one, I guess,” I say before turning back around to ignore her and continue rooting through my newly donated wardrobe. It couldn’t have been a more perfect answer to fit into my new persona. I am totally turning into the monster that they painted me out to be, and I am loving every minute of it.
Give them what they want.
Bridget doesn’t
