the room really, truly goes silent. Hardin’s face is flushed with anger, and I can’t imagine mine looks much different.
“He ‘manipulated’ her? Try again, she is . . . I mean, she was so bored with her boring life that she had to find excitement somewhere—so she certainly was throwing herself at him!” he yells back, his hand gripping the desk.
“Well, maybe if he wasn’t such a manwhore, he could have stopped it after the first time instead of showing up to her room!” After the words leave my mouth, I know that we’ve been exposed, and snickers and gasps are heard throughout the room.
“Okay, lively discussion. I think that’s probably enough on that topic for today . . .” the professor begins, but I grab my bag and run out of the room.
From somewhere behind me in the halls, I hear Hardin’s angry voice yell, “You don’t get to run this time, Theresa!”
I get outside and am crossing the green lawn, about to reach the corner of the block, when he grabs my arm and I jerk away.
“Why do you always touch me like that? Grab my arm again and I will slap you!” I scream. I surprise myself at my harsh words, but I’ve had enough of his crap.
He grabs my arm again, but I can’t manage to follow through on my promise. “What do you want, Hardin? To tell me how desperate I am? To laugh at me for letting you get to me again? I am so sick of this game with you—I won’t play it any longer. I have a boyfriend who loves me, and you are a terrible person. You really should see a doctor and get some medication for your mood swings! I can’t keep up with you. One second you’re nice, then you’re hateful. I want nothing to do with you, so do yourself a favor and find another girl to play your games, because I’m done!”
“I really do bring out the worst in you, don’t I?” he asks.
I turn away and attempt to shift my focus to the busy sidewalk next to us. A few confused students’ eyes linger on Hardin and me for a beat too long. When I face him again, he’s running his fingers across a small hole at the bottom of his worn black T-shirt.
I expect him to be smiling or laughing, but he’s not. If I didn’t know any better I would think he was . . . hurt? But I do know better and I know he couldn’t care less. “I’m not trying to play games with you,” he says and runs his hand over his head.
“Then what are you doing—because your mood swings give me a headache,” I snap. A small crowd has gathered around us, and I want to curl into a ball and disappear. But I have to know what he will say next.
Why can’t I stay away from him? I know he’s dangerous and toxic. I have never been as mean to someone as I am to him. He deserves it, I know, but I don’t really like being mean to anyone.
Hardin grabs my arm yet again and pulls me into a small alleyway between two buildings, away from the crowd. “Tess, I . . . I don’t know what I am doing. You kissed me first, remember?” he reminds me.
“Yeah . . . I was drunk, remember? And you kissed me first yesterday.”
“Yeah . . . You didn’t stop me.” He pauses. “It must be exhausting,” he says.
What? “What must be exhausting?”
“Acting like you don’t want me, when we both know you do,” he says, and steps closer.
“What? I do not want you. I have a boyfriend.” The words tumble out too fast and reveal their absurdity, making him smile.
“A boyfriend that you’re bored with. Admit it, Tess. Not to me, but to yourself. You’re bored with him.” His voice lowers, and slows to a sensual pace. “Has he ever made you feel the way I do?”
“W-What? Of course he has,” I lie.
“No . . . he hasn’t. I can tell that you’ve never been touched . . . really touched.”
His words send a now-familiar burn through my body. “That’s none of your business,” I say and back away, making him take three steps toward me.
“You have no idea how good I can make you feel,” he says, and I gasp. How does he go from yelling at me to this? And why do I like it so much? I