Playing Heart Games

Level 42: Experience Deja Vu

AXEL

Five hours earlier

Asher drove me to school. I spent the journey fiddling with his radio. Apparently, mom and Vincent were serious about me not having access to my car.

What exactly did they expect me to do with a car? Run away? It was the last thing I would do. It seemed like every second another restraint bound me to this place. Another secret. Another responsibility. If I left, everything would fall apart.

Actually, that was a dumb question. I could guess what they expected me to do with a car.

My eyes flickered to Asher.

He was fine now...right?

"I didn't know you still had feelings for Bree," Asher said.

I suppressed a scowl.

Brielle.

After she'd made her little announcement, we'd been congratulated. As if it was a good thing. Mom had been so happy. The whole thing made me want to vomit.

My voice was careful. "You knew she was here?"

"Yeah, she's been here for a couple days."

I studied Asher. He looked genuinely curious. There was no sign on his face that he knew about the video.

"You hung out with her?" I asked.

He shrugged. "Yeah, once. She took me to a party."

And got him drunk.

She'd taken advantage of him for the sake of leverage. So she could play one of her stupid games.

I hated her. So much that it hurt.

Asher glanced at me. "It's just...I thought you and that girl, Violet—"

"You need a new speaker system," I interrupted. "Yours is way too quiet."

His brows furrowed. "Okay?"

We pulled up in the school parking lot. The moment we stopped, I felt the stares.

Here we go.

I stepped outside. Conversation dwindled. Students stopped what they were doing to look over. Gazes glued to my skin. One girl whispered to her neighbour. Then a giggle.

Folks, now presenting the freak of nature: Axel Ryder, returned from rehab, driven to school by his Golden Boy brother. I heard he's crazy. I heard he's an addict. I heard he's a drunk. I heard his father hates his guts and his mother is scared of him.

I glanced at Asher. I didn't know how I hadn't noticed before. The way the attention made him shrivel. The way he paled under it.

I'd made the right decision.

I smirked at the girl that was still whispering to her friend. They blushed.

I wore 'broken' well. Asher didn't.

I swung my arm over Asher's shoulder, leading him towards the school building. "What have you got first?"

"Maths," he murmured.

"I'll walk you."

Stares followed us as we strode through the halls. Asher shrunk with each one.

I wish I knew what to do to make him not care. To make it so their attention didn't matter to him.

By the time we reached his class, I'd decided to re-dye my hair. I was the freak, not him. People should be able to tell the difference.

"I'll see you later," Asher muttered as he shuffled into his classroom.