Chapter 2 (Asher)
“Breslin!” I yell, my voice sounding like heavy glass shattering as I watch her flee to the parking lot.
Emotions, all kinds of fucking emotions grip me by the throat as I run after her. Some woman in the lobby gives me a weird look that I'm positive is due to my bare feet, no shirt, and what I'm sure is my dick flopping out of my unzipped jeans, but I don't care.
I need to get to her. I need to...
Tires screech in the distance and my heart folds in on itself because there is nothing worse than watching Breslin Rae run right out of my life for the second time.
What kind of weird twist of fate is this? Just what in the actual fuck is going on?
I spin around when I hear footsteps behind me, because I know who they belong to. And boy, do I have some questions for Landon fucking Parker right now that I expect some fucking answers to.
However, what I don't expect—is a punch that rocks my jaw the second his eyes lock with mine.
I throw a punch back in his direction, smiling wide when my fist connects with skin.
It's a smile that wipes clean off my face when I see him stagger back and look at me again.
He looks just as hurt and confused as I am, which doesn't make any sense.
“You,” he grinds out, low and deadly. “You’re him, aren't you?”
I open my mouth to say— what, I'm not sure—but he spits blood on the ground and walks away.
I don't follow him, not only because it's clear he doesn't want me to, but because I need to wrap my head around this entire situation myself.
I also don't want to be responsible for murdering the guy I have serious feelings for because it turns out he was shacking up with my Breslin.
Because she will always be mine. Even when I fucking hate her...
I grind my jaw and fight the urge to march back up to his apartment and beat him to a bloody pulp.
The woman who witnessed the entire exchange eyes widen and she shakes her head as she looks me up and down. “Need a ride?”
I nod, hoping she can understand that while I need the ride, I'm not exactly in the mood for chit-chat during the journey.
Thankfully the campus is such a short distance away, it doesn't give us time to talk.
When I thank her and step outside of the car, a few students look at me and their nervous and cheery expressions drop.
Of course, this shit would go down when it's check-in day.
My dick is, for the most part; safely tucked back inside my pants, but considering my overall appearance at the moment, I can't blame them for looking at me like I'm insane. I'm one hell of a sight for these poor freshmen to be taking in.
Barging past, I brush them off and make my way to my dorm room, feeling and looking more exposed to these goddamn people than I ever wanted to.
I inwardly groan when I find O'Conner's girlfriend rapping on my door.
I am not in the mood for her bullshit right now, I have more than my fair share presently.
She smiles brightly when she sees me, and on some level, I should probably feel bad that I'm about to burst that bubble she's blown up for herself, but I don't.
“Theo. He's gone.” she says, looking at me in wonder.
I nod, because I'm not sure what else I'm supposed to say or why the fuck she's here.
The second I stick my key in the lock she presses herself flush against me. “I can't believe you wanted to be with me so bad you got him expelled,” she says breathlessly against my back.
Awe, hell. Just when I think it can't get any worse, it does.
“He got expelled because he attacked a student,” I grunt. “I had nothing to do with it.”
“Yeah, but someone on the football team said—”
“Said what? That I went through the trouble of getting him expelled for you?” I snort. “Sorry, sweetheart, but your pussy wasn't that great. Mediocre at best.”
She gasps, cries out that I'm an asshole, and slaps me hard across the cheek.
I relish the physical sting, it's on the tip of my tongue to ask her for another. Because it's so much better than the emotional one I'm feeling currently.
Her face twists and she mutters that the only reason I didn't like her pussy was because I'm a faggot.
I tell her how original her insult was and slam the door in her face.
Then I give into this crushing weight that's like a bomb going off inside my chest and I slink down the wall.
Breslin.
My fucking Breslin...here.
Or rather, she was; before she ran off to God only knows where.
Pressure tightens against my ribs, making it harder and harder to breathe with every beat of my heart.
A heart that can't tell if it's beating so painfully because it's longing for the girl that it always has and needs another hit of her—or a warning to my system because she destroyed the fucking organ once already and it won't be able to survive the next hit.
Christ, I equally love and hate the way Breslin fits inside my heart and soul in a way no one else will ever be able to.
The back of my head hits the wall and I force myself to breathe and tell myself to stop being a pussy. But there's no point...because all I can think about is her.
What the fuck is she doing at Woodside of all places anyway? She was supposed to be at Falcon, pursuing some bullshit career in architecture instead of art like her talent warrants.
I close my eyes, my head spinning out of control...and that's when I hear it.
The sound of someone sobbing, rather intensely, on the other side of the wall.
It's so muffled and raw I can't make out who it is, especially given that I've never met the person on the other side of the wall—but I can't help but feel a sort of kinship with them considering the way my life just fell apart today too.
And although I'm certain that my circumstances are a hundred times worse than their feelings about being homesick or missing their boyfriend back home is, I shift and place my hand on the wall anyway.
“You're going to be okay,” I whisper, knowing that they probably can't even hear me and it's pointless. “I know it seems bad right now...but you're gonna get through this.”
I stuff down the ball working its way up my own throat, because I'm not so sure who it is that I'm trying to comfort anymore.
My chest squeezes and I stop talking, instead choosing to listen to their uncontrollable sobbing.
And that's what I continue doing for the rest of the night...listen to them cry their heart out, because I can't.