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I don’t know if Ten will stick with me, and now Misha is gone, too. I
don’t know what I did, but it had to be something, because when you find
that everyone hates you, it’s not them. It’s you.
“You have a friend,” Masen tells me, his tone hard and sure. “The rest
of those fucking losers are deadweight. Do you hear me?” He runs his
thumbs over my cheeks, wiping away the tears. “You’re beautiful and
smart, and you have this fire in you that I’m addicted to.”
Warmth fills my chest, and I raise my eyes to his.
He leans in, forehead to forehead. “You’re an incredible pain in the ass,
but God, I love y—” He stops, and my breath catches in my throat.
“It,” he finishes. “I love it. I can’t get enough. I think about you all the
time.”
I sniffle, taking some deep breaths and wiping my tears. My heart
skipped a beat there. It almost sounded like he was going to say something
else.
“Let’s just get out of here, okay?” I pull away, replacing the board in the
drawer and closing it. I know he hasn’t found what he needs, but I have to
get out of here. I need a shower after those pictures, or I want to do
something with Masen and forget coming here.
Gathering up the pictures, I head out of the room and take a left to head
down the stairs. But Masen grabs my arm, stopping me.
“What are you going to do with those pictures?”
“Burn them,” I answer. “He probably printed them, because he didn’t
want his parents finding them in his phone, so he won’t have copies. I
wouldn’t put it past him to be showing these to his friends.”
But Masen shakes his head. Taking them out of my hand, he makes a U-
turn and opens the parents’ bedroom door.
“What are you doing?” I whisper-yell.