Brittney was standing a little ways back when Emily came back to her senses, eyeing her warily. “Are you all right?” Brittney asked.
“Yeah. I guess… well, like I said. Issues. You were warned.” She shrugged.
“We’ll fix you. You can still come back from this.”
“Moments like this, I don’t even know that I want to.”
“Well… I guess there’s point discussing it. But you have my word that I’ll do everything I can to make this right with DJ as soon as I get back. You’re going to be all right. I promise.”
Emily smiled thinly; she looked far from sold. “Look, don’t get me wrong—that was a lot of fun, and you seem like a really nice girl. It doesn’t make me anything other than the wretched bitch that I am, and I think you’re kidding yourself if you think batting your baby blues at him is going to undo what I did. I had a shot, and I fucked it up.”
“Emily, we can still make things right. You can have a life again. You can.
“Sure,” she said, clearly unconvinced. “I guess we’ll see how things are when you get back.”
“Don’t go yet, OK?” She caught a far-off, desperate look to the girl’s eyes that chilled her. “Or… Emily, don’t do anything while I’m gone, OK? Give me a chance first.”
“Things are going to happen whether we want them to or not,” she said vaguely. “If I’ve learned anything from DJ, it’s that the universe doesn’t slow down for us to follow our plans. It’s going to happen, you can’t stop it, so all you can do is lie back and choose how you accept it.”
Brittney’s phone buzzed then; her ride was here to take her home. There was nothing left to say here, so she dressed herself and ran.
Chapter Fourteen
When DJ pulled into the parking lot, Ashley was sitting there at one of the picnic tables in the back of the dorm waiting for him. She stared at him as he parked, picked up his bag from the trunk, and made his way past her towards the door. She was wearing his favorite top under her unzipped jacket, a tank top that displayed a mile of her magnificent cleavage. Of course she was.
“Hi, DJ.”
He kept walking.
“You can’t ignore me forever, you know. We need to talk.”
He paused, let out a sigh, and turned to face her. “I can, actually. That’s the thing. I can make it so you never talk to me ever again.”
“I might have to let you do whatever you want, but that doesn’t mean I’m not my own person. I’ll keep after you until you talk to me.”
DJ dropped his bag and got right up in her face. “Oh? Well then, how’s this? Ashley, it really really hurts my feelings every time I look at you, every time I hear your voice. I feel rejected and wounded and like you looked me in the eye and told me you couldn’t stand me. Every time you open your mouth, even.”
She’d met his eyes initially; as he continued, her gaze lowered until it was glued to her feet. She fell back to the table. She couldn’t bring herself to look at him any more, and every time she tried to open her mouth, her chin quivered with self-disgust.
Occasionally, it was good to be reminded that for all the crap he’d put up with from her, she still had to put up with some of his.
Still, it was harsh. He’d known as soon as he decided to return that he’d have to eventually rip off this band-aid. “I’m sorry—I just said that to… I’m sorry. Let’s talk.” She still seemed to be struggling to manage it. “I didn’t mean it, Ashley. It’s OK. I’d like to talk to you.”
A little more reassuring, and she finally regained some of her pluck. He sat down beside her on the picnic bench, though farther away than he normally would have. Still, that she was wearing the perfume he liked was not lost on him.
“Look, I guess I should start with an apology. I realize I said it in a hundred voicemails and texts, but I know it’s not the same. I know an apology’s still not enough, but you still deserve one. So I’m sorry.”
“Ashley…”
“No, let me finish. Please, DJ?” He could see how hard it was for her to humble herself. He’d gotten to know her pretty well over the past few months, and “meek” was one word nobody would ever use to describe Ashley Vandoren. In fact, she might be the least timid person he’d ever met. If she was willing to grovel and plead, she must really be in a bad way. He shuddered to think what a desperate Ashley would be able to do to someone who wasn’t him.
Still, there was no point dragging this out. “Ashley, don’t. It’s cool that you apologized, and I know things were weird for us already because of what I am, and what I was doing because of it. So I want you to know I don’t blame you. I slept around, you slept around, and I don’t want to split hairs over the details of it.”
“So… you understand?”
“It doesn’t matter whether I understand or not. Look, Ashley, I’ve taken the week to think it over, and… we’re done. Some of our time together was amazing. A lot of it, though, I think… I think we both just fed off of one another, and I encouraged some of your bad habits and you helped nurture some of mine. It was a toxic mix—exciting, and definitely great a lot of the time,” he squeezed her hand, “but I think I need to accept some responsibility for what I’ve been doing, and what I can do. And I don’t think I can do that with you.”
“What? DJ, no—listen to me, I know things got a little out of hand, but…”
He shook his head. “Ashley, don’t. Don’t make this any harder. I’m not mad at you, and we did have some good times, but… I can’t be that guy any more.”
She frowned. “What, you go home and find Jesus or something?”
“No, no, far from it.” He’d gone home and found four teenage girls and a very literal MILF—Jesus certainly would not have approved of much of it. (Especially the bacon thing, since Jesus was Jewish and keeping kosher and all.) “I did do a little soul-searching, though, and I need to make some changes. This is one of them.”
Ashley expression darkened; he knew that look, the one when she wanted to say something but his power wouldn’t let her. “Go on—say it. I want to hear it, even if it’s not something I’ll like.”
That line hadn’t worked yet—today was no exception, and she just waved his offer off. It was funny how much he sometimes missed people having the freedom to speak their unpleasant truths to him, and if there was a person who ordinarily cleaved to a creedo of brutal honesty, it was she.
“All right then. Hey, and if the way things went down fucked up things for you—with your roommate, with your classes, whatever, let me know and I’ll do my best to put it right.”
“I still want you,” she said, taking his hand and putting it to her breast. It was typical of her, and one of the things she’d miss—she knew what she wanted and she went straight for it with all the subtlety of a jackhammer.
“I know.” He pulled his hand back. It wasn’t easy—she wanted it there bad. So did he. “Look, I’ll see you around, OK?”
DJ stood up from the table and made his way inside. One down, two to go.
The door to Brittney’s room was open when he walked by, so DJ stopped in with his bag still in hand—only she wasn’t in. Mercedes was tapping away on her laptop, barely glancing back at him. “Oh hey, DJ. If you’re looking for Brittney, she’s not back yet.”
“Yeah, I figured. Did she say when she’d be back?”
“Tonight, late I think.” She shrugged, still focused on her typing.