I didn’t know how to fix the situation or how to take back my words. Being a Madden, being in a gang, you didn’t really learn to talk about your feelings.

Estella didn’t say anything else for a good minute. I didn’t say anything either. What the hell was I supposed to say? I’d just ruined any chance of Estella and me being decent towards each other. We barely spoke to each other, and the one time we’d finally communicated, I ended up being a complete douchebag.

Finally, the silence was broken as Estella glanced at my bike. “Could you please take me home now?” Her tone was polite, but I could tell that it was just a shield for the shit I’d just inflicted her with.

“Sure.”

And that’s all I said to her as I got on the bike and waited for her to climb on after me. She didn’t put her arms around me like she always did, and I didn’t bother to move them into their usual position. I felt cold, sick, as I drove her home.

When I pulled up outside her house thirty minutes later and she climbed off, I felt like she was slipping away. She didn’t even bother to say good night as she walked across her front yard and up the stairs.

I didn’t drive off right away. I sat there, watching her fish for her keys; watching the way the porch light illuminated her stony face and highlighted the light tones of her hair.

Even when she’d gone inside, I didn’t drive off. I sat there, wondering why it felt like I was struggling to breathe. Why was my chest constricting painfully? Was that guilt worming its way through me?

And that’s when I realized why all this was happening. It had taken me two weeks, but now I knew. Estella had become familiar. She had become someone I depended on. Estella had secretly crept into my life, and I hadn’t even noticed until this very second.

And I had let her fucking walk out of it.

Chapter Thirteen

Estella

School on Monday was pretty bad.

I’d had a History project to finish up over the weekend, but my mind had kept drifting to a certain tattooed jerk, and I hadn’t been able to put the finishing touches to my project that I’d wanted to.

There was no way I’d get an ‘A’ on it. I’d probably just scrape a ‘B’, and that was only because my History teacher had a soft spot for me.

Slipping grades were not something I could afford to deal with. I needed to maintain exceptional grades to get that scholarship to college; otherwise I’d have no chance to break out of the vicious cycle my father was exposing me to.

There was no alternative to it; I had to stop tutoring Dylan, and I had to stop thinking about Vin-um, the tattooed jerk!

To be fair, he didn’t really understand the impact of his words. He didn’t understand that my life was far from perfect. Just because I wore this mask—straight-A student, good girl, responsible—didn’t mean that I didn’t have problems of my own. It didn’t mean that my life wasn’t completely messed up. I was trying to deal with everything as best as I could.

Now, the only option left was to remove Vincent from the equation. If he stayed in my life, I was going to lose more than good grades; I was going to lose my darn mind.

The only thing that really bothered me was breaking my promise to Dylan. I knew our tutoring sessions had become more than just that. We’d become friends. He relied on me in his life as a constant. I think I was that maternal presence he’d lacked his entire life. It was killing me to do this to him, but I had no choice.

My promise to him had been made before Vincent had said what he’d said. It was probably for the best, anyway since Ryder seemed to hate my guts for some unknown reason. I think that entire family was a little insane.

At the end of the day, I headed to my locker and took out the text books I’d need for homework tomorrow. Since I wouldn’t have time to do any work this afternoon, I was going to get everything done tomorrow afternoon now that I’d decided not to tutor Dylan anymore.

“Estella, can I talk to you?”

Turning to the right, I found Eddie Cavallari leaning against the locker beside mine. His sandy-colored hair was spiked to the side in an interesting way. The sight of his tattoos made me want to take a step back, but I checked myself. I didn’t want Eddie to think I was being rude, so I stood my ground.

“Sure,” I swallowed, my eyes darting from left to right as I tried to focus on something else.

Panic was swelling up in my chest and the strokes of his tattoos seemed to swim in front of my eyes. An itch was starting up on my left arm, and I was trying my hardest not to scratch it.

Look at the floor. Look at the locker. Look at other people.

Don’t look at his tattoos. Don’t look at his tattoos.

Maybe if I kept chanting the mantra over and over again, my mind would create an illusion that Eddie’s skin was bare; that no tattoos covered his arms.

I tried to push the feeling away, but it was pounding in my chest, rising to the surface—I felt disgust. Eddie’s tattoos disgusted me.

“Estella? Are you alright?” Eddie’s voice shook me from the panic that was attempting to swallow me whole.

Tearing my eyes away from his arms, I glanced up to find Eddie watching me with concern. This was Eddie. This wasn’t a nightmare. Eddie was a nice guy. Eddie wasn’t a monster. Eddie wasn’t going to hurt me.

Forcing a smile onto my face, I nodded. “Sorry, I completely zoned out. What were you saying?”

Eddie leaned closer, a frown playing around his mouth. “I’m really worried about Hadie. I mean, I know she’s seeing a grief counselor and trying to work through everything, but she seems so...” He paused, searching for the right word. “…different.”

“Different how?”

“She’s withdrawing. She doesn’t talk when I’m with her. And ever since she came back to school, she’s been holed up in the library. I don’t know what to do or say to get her to react.”

As Eddie spoke, I tried my best to concentrate on his face and not let my eyes wander to his inked arms. His concern for my best friend was pretty sweet. I knew Hadie was in despair, but I honestly wondered if she realized how much Eddie cared about her.

The way he’d taken care of her was definitely a lot more than “caring”. I wouldn’t exactly call it a crush, either. Whatever it was, it was really sweet of him to do so much for her. When Hadie had missed a week of school, Eddie had collected all her homework for her and taken it over to her house.

I knew Hadie wasn’t even close to opening herself to Eddie in that way, but I hoped that one day she would really see him. I hoped she would see that everything he was doing for her was for their friendship and a little more. He was not a boy she should take for granted.

Feeling more like myself, I gave Eddie a sad smile. “Of course she’s different. She lost the love of her life.” Eddie’s face fell at my words and I felt a sting of guilt. My tone was gentler as I continued. “I’ve been her friend since second grade and I know she has a strange way of dealing with things. She’s not one of those people who can push her feelings away and act like everything’s okay. She’s a very emotional person, so just let her get those emotions out in whatever way she wants.”

“Yeah, you’re right. I just wish I could make everything better for her.” Eddie had a look of defeat on his face, and feeling horrible, I reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Believe me, just having you in her life is making things better for her. Give it time, Eddie. Give her time to heal. She’ll get through this; just keep doing exactly what you’re doing.”

My hand fell from Eddie’s shoulder, and we were both silent, lost in our own thoughts. Finally, Eddie hitched his backpack strap higher up on his shoulder and gave me a tight smile. “Thanks for the talk, Estella. Let me know if you can find out anything from Hadie.”

“Of course I will.”

Eddie gave me a small nod before passing me by, and I slumped against my locker, trying to process everything he’d just said.

There was so much going on in my life at the moment that I kind of felt bad for relegating Hadie to the backseat. There was really only so much I could do for her, though. She preferred to be alone, and I could understand her need to be solitary. Still, it wasn’t right for her to completely withdraw. I would have to do something about that.

Hurrying outside, I made my way to the bus stand that was just across the street. The bus that came there went all the way through town before heading to Penthill. It was a long trip, but at least it was convenient.

As I was about to cross the street, I caught sight of something that made me falter.

Vincent was here.

He had parked his bike—illegally, of course—across the street at the bus stand, and was leaning against it with his arms folded across his chest. And, he looked good. By good, I mean good.

He had on a pair of faded jeans, a white denim shirt—thankfully, the sleeves were rolled down so my eyes weren’t assaulted by his numerous tattoos—and brown leather boots. He wore a pair of Aviators and looked sexy as hell. I mean, normally he was sexy anyway, but there was something about the way his shirt hugged his upper body that made me feel like I’d skipped a step and almost fallen over.

Gah. Why was I acting like a total idiot? I was supposed to be angry at him. I was angry at him. It didn’t matter how sexy he looked; he had really hurt me the other night. Vincent Madden could take his sexiness and go right back to Penthill for all I cared.