The Dream - Whitney Dineen Page 0,81

clear that he’s pursuing a flirtation with her. I’m not really surprised after our awkward dinner last night.

I’m only gone long enough to walk to the ladies’ room and back, but I return to find someone sitting in my place. I can’t tell who it is because his back is to me, but there’s something familiar enough about him that I stop dead in my tracks before reaching the table.

My eyes erupt into flames of fury as I force myself onward. Every step I take makes me more determined to meet this part of my past head on. I no longer want to run from it, I want to confront it.

Davis stands up and reaches his arm out to me as though drawing me toward him. “Ashley, I’d like you to meet my friend, Chad.”

Chad ‘freaking’ Adkinson stands up and looks straight at me. A smile crosses his face, and I know immediately that he recognizes me. Nausea bubbles up causing my throat to constrict at the same time my fingers curl into fists at my side.

“Ah, the lovely lady from the country club,” he says as an army of fire ants march through my nervous system. He reaches out to take my hand, but I don’t meet him halfway.

Buck nods his head in a way that challenges me to stand up for myself once and for all. I look Chad straight in the eye and say, “Chad Adkinson, what an unwanted and disgusting surprise.”

“Ashley,” he starts to say.

“You mean FelAshleyO,” I correct him. I don’t dare look at Davis or Jessica to see how they react.

“No, I mean Ashley,” he says in a tone that’s striving to sound sincere. “I owe you a massive apology for the way I treated you in high school.”

“Yes, you do,” I tell him. “In fact, you owe me much more than that. But short of building a time machine and going back in time so I can kick your sorry ass, there’s absolutely nothing you can do to make things right with me.”

“I’m truly very sorry,” he says again. Too little, too late, buddy boy.

I turn to Davis and stare daggers at him. He brought Chad here to help him assuage his guilt over the past. The message that my tormentor means more to him than I do has been clearly sent.

While I shouldn’t be surprised, as the two of them have been friends their whole lives, I’m devastated that he would put me in this position. That’s when it hits me. Davis knows who I am and has not once let on. Why not?

I take a step backwards while he, Jessica, Chad, and Buck stare at me. Before I know it, I turn around and run for the exit like the hounds of hell are nipping at my heels.

I’m fueled by anger and disbelief. How long has Davis known who I am? Why has he never mentioned it? Why act like he doesn’t know? My head is full of questions that only lead to more questions.

As I run to my car, I can hear Buck and Davis calling my name, but I don’t stop. What could either of them say to me at this point?

I get into my car and drive off like I’m being pursued by a demon. Thank God I didn’t let Davis pick me up. I find myself wondering what Molly Ringwald would do. It occurs to me that all of her movies that I’ve watched dealt with high school angst and not grown-up devastation.

As soon as I get home, I lock the door behind me before pulling the shades on the windows. Then I go to the bathroom and sink to the ground like I’m hiding in a cave. Great big sobs pour out of me as my nose fills to the point where I can’t breathe. I haven’t cried like this since my mom died.

Anger, sadness, and disbelief all mix together in a stew of despair. Davis knows the kind of person Chad is. He had to save me from being assaulted by him at prom. Even if Chad claims to be sorry now, how in the world could Davis have ever remained friends with someone like that?

I hear banging on my front door, but I make no move to answer it. Buck calls out, “Open up, Ash. Let me in so we can talk.”

There’s nothing he could say that would make me feel better. No, Buck got out of Creek Water years ago and left his