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Landon watches me with thoughtful eyes before his mouth turns to a frown. “He called you a bitch? Tonight?” I nod, and he sighs heavily, running his hand over his face. “I was saying hurtful things to him, too.” I hiccup. The heavy combination of wine and whiskey is going to haunt me tomorrow, I know it. “He shouldn’t call you out of your name—he’s a man and you’re a woman. It’s never okay, Tessa. Please don’t make excuses for him.”
Yes. Listen to Landon.
“No, but it’s what I should want. It’s not fair to either of us to keep doing this day in and day out. I’m not innocent here either—I always expect too much from him.”
You expect bare fucking minimum and he can't even give you that.
“He said that it’s my fault… that he is the way he is. All I want is for him to be kind to me at least half the time, and I want security in our relationship, that’s all. It’s pathetic, really.”
HOW IS THE BAR THIS LOW
“Would you go to Seattle if you were me? I can’t help but think I should just call it off and stay here, or go with him to England. If he’s acting like this because I’m going to Seattle, maybe I should—” “You can’t not go,” Landon interrupts. “You’ve been gushing over Seattle since the day I met you. If Hardin won’t go with you, then that’s his loss.
I swear to god if you give up your wildly unlikey career for this infant
You can’t give in on this; he has to know that you’re serious this time.
Thank you Landon.
“You’d have to be insane to give up Seattle for someone who loves you more than anything but is only willing to show it half of the time.”
Landon for president at this point
“I’m sorry,” I say too damn loud. “I know,” she replies quickly. Her back is still turned to me as she begins to refold my clothes from the dresser and floor. “I really am. I didn’t mean what I said.” I need her to look at me so I can be reassured that my dream was just that. “I know you didn’t. Don’t worry about it.” She sighs, and I notice the way her shoulders are slumped lower than before. “Are you sure… I said some fucked-up shit.” You’re broken, Hardin, and I can’t fix you—that was the worst possible thing she could have said to me. She finally realizes how fucked up I am, and more
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Really never thought I'd be rooting for Tessa
The remainder of my time at that damn cabin is spent this way, watching Tessa as she packs our things and cleans up the broken lamp without another word to me, without really looking at me.
You couldn't even clean up the mess you made?
This drive will be miserable if I can’t drown out the tension with music. I don’t know why I never did this before the “great depression,” when Landon had to show me how to download music.
I unironically love calling your sad time "the great depression."
“What are you trying to do, exactly?” “Listen to music and hopefully sleep,” I whisper. He takes the phone from my hand and messes with the settings. “If you listened to me and got a new phone, this wouldn’t happen,” he scolds.
Helpful.
He’s already opened the music app for me. A long list appears on the screen, and I scroll through to find anything familiar. I almost give up, but then my eyes move to a folder named T. I look over at Hardin, whose eyes, surprisingly, are closed and not watching me. When I tap the folder, all of my favorite music appears, even songs that I’ve never mentioned to him. He must have seen them on my phone. Things like these make me question myself. The small, thoughtful gestures that he tries to conceal from me are my favorite things in the entire world.
YES THANK GOD HE HAS A FOLDER WITH MY FAVOURITE MUSIC THAT MAKES THE CONSTANT PSYCHOLOGICAL ABUSE WORTH IT
I move to get out, and Hardin’s large hand reaches over to stop me. He brings his other hand to my chin and tips my head up so I have to look at him. “I’m sorry. Please don’t be upset with me,” he says quietly, his mouth inches from mine.
Sigh
“Sometimes when I think about us, I start to get paranoid, you know? Like I don’t know why you’re with me sometimes,
I also don't knokw why she's with you
If you could just forget about Seattle, we could be happy finally—no more distractions.”
Yes, give up all your hopes and dreams and move to England with just me and no support system
“Seattle isn’t a distraction, Hardin,” I reply softly. “It is. You’re only pushing it so much to prove a point.” It’s amazing how his tone can change from soothing to ice in a matter of seconds. I look out the window. “Can we please stop talking about Seattle? Nothing is changing: you don’t want to go, and I do. I’m sick of going around and around about it.” He pulls his hand away, and I turn back to him. “Fine, what do you suggest we do, then? You go to Seattle without me? How long do you think we would last? A week? A month?” His eyes regard me coolly, and I shiver. “We could make it work if
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God then fucking leave him
“You also didn’t ‘do’ dating, remember?” I remind him. It’s infuriating that I’m basically begging him to stay in a relationship with me when I should be considering leaving him for the way he treats me.
Correct
“So let me get this straight: you offered to marry me if I don’t go, but if I do go, you’re breaking up with me?” I wasn’t prepared to bring up his offer, but I couldn’t stop the words from coming. “Marry you?” His mouth falls open and his eyes narrow. I knew I shouldn’t have mentioned it. “What—” “You said that if I chose you, you’d marry me. I know you were drunk, but I thought maybe—” “You thought what? That I would marry you?”
Oh no
“No, I knew you wouldn’t, I just—” “Then why bring it up? You know how drunk I was and desperate for you to stay—I would have said anything.”
Hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
When we get to our place, Hardin puts his key in the lock, then asks me, “Did you forget to lock the door?” At first I don’t realize what he’s asked, but then I recover and reply, “No, you locked it. I remember.” I watched him lock the door before we left; I remember how he rolled his eyes and made a joke about me taking too long to get ready. “That’s weird,” he says, and steps inside. His eyes scan the room like he’s searching for something. “Do you think—” I start. “Someone was in here,” he answers, becoming instantly alert as he presses his mouth into a hard line.
Oh good another distraction
“It was your fucking dad!” he suddenly shouts. “What?” If I’m honest, the thought was already planted in my mind, but I didn’t want to be the one say it. “It had to be him! Who else would know we were gone and come into our home but not steal shit? Only him, that stupid, drunk motherfucker!” “Hardin!”
It was probably dad's weird friend, actually
“Fine, Tessa, you go ahead and pretend that your dad—who, may I remind you, is a drunk—is perfectly innocent here.” His nerve is outstanding, as always. He is calling my father out for drinking? Hardin Scott is calling someone out for their drinking, when he gets so drunk that he can barely remember anything the next day? “You’re a drunk, too!” I say and then instantly cover my mouth.
Ooh yes
“What did you say?” Any trace of sympathy drops from his face. He eyes me like a predator, starts circling me.
Oooh no
“What is that supposed to mean? I tell you how much I love you on a constant!”
That's called love bombing babes
“Tell me this, then: you think you can find someone else to put up with your shit? Your constant whining and bitching, your annoying need to have everything in order, and your attitude?” He waves his hands in the air in front of him.
I mean yes? She literally had someone willing to do that?
I laugh. I laugh right in Hardin’s face; even with my hand covering my mouth, I can’t stop. “My attitude? My attitude? You are constantly disrespecting me—you’re borderline emotionally abusive, obsessive, suffocating, and rude.
BORDERLINE?????????
“And by the way, I may be a lot to handle sometimes, but that’s because I’m so busy worrying about you and everyone else around me, and trying not to piss you off, that I forget about myself. So excuse me if I annoy you, or bitch at you when you’re constantly lashing out at me for no damn reason!”
Yes girl
“I don’t know what else to do, okay? You know that I haven’t ever done this before, you knew going into this that I’d be a challenge. You have no right to bitch about it now.”
Haaaaaaa what
“You know what your problem is, Theresa? Your problem is that you read too many damn novels and you forget that they’re all bullshit. There are no Darcys, there are only Wickhams and Alec d’Urbervilles, so wake up and stop expecting me to be some goddamned literary hero—because it’s not going to fucking happen!”
Literally no one wants you to be a literary hero
“All you have to do is tell me. Please, Hardin, just tell me that you’ll try, really try this time.” I’m begging him; I don’t know what else to do. I don’t want to leave him, even though I know I have to.
Girl HOW MANY TIMES
Staring at the wall behind me, he simply says, “I’m sure you can find somewhere to stay until Monday.” When I don’t respond, he turns on his heel and leaves the room. I stand in place, shocked that he hasn’t came back to put up more of a fight. Minutes pass before I finally pick up the pieces of me that he has shattered and pack my bags for the last time.
Last time? There are 538 pages left in THIS book
What? For the first time I realize just how selfish I am. “Make new friends”? What’s so bad about her making new friends and experiencing new things? I would be there, right next to her, experiencing them, too. Why did I go to such lengths to keep her from Seattle instead of embracing this opportunity for her? This opportunity to prove that I could be part of something she wanted. That’s all she asked of me, and I couldn’t fucking deliver.
Yeah, bummer man.
I’m divided. Half of me knows she’ll come back to me tonight, maybe tomorrow, and forgive me. But the other half of me knows she really is done trying to fix me.
I will lose all my shit if she does
SOMETIME LATER, I pull myself up from the floor and pad into the bedroom. When I get there, I nearly collapse again. The bracelet I had made for her sits on top of a piece of paper, alongside her e-reader and a copy of Wuthering Heights. I pick up the bracelet, twirl the infinity heart charm between my fingers, and look at the matching tattoo on my wrist. Why would she leave this here? It was a gift from me to her, at a time when I was desperate to show my love for her. I needed her love and forgiveness, and she gave it to me. To my horror, the piece of paper under the bracelet is the
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Forgive me, Tessa. I was unfamiliar with your game.
If anyone ever tried to hurt her, it would be the last thing they ever fucking did. I’m such a fucking hypocrite! Here I am, threatening to kill someone for hurting her when that’s all I seem capable of doing.
Holy shit he's self aware
A leather notebook hidden between two different editions of Emma catches my eye, and I run my fingers along the clasp. Pulling it out, I sift through the pages to find that Tessa’s handwriting fills each page. Is this some sort of diary that I didn’t know she was keeping? Introduction to World Religion is written neatly on the first page. I sit down on the bed with the book in my hands and begin to read.
I KNEW THIS WOULD BE A PLOT POINT
“You… you’re here with Steph?” he asks, closing the space between us. “Yeah. Hardin isn’t here, if that’s what you’re wondering.” “No, I…” His eyes move to my hand as I place the empty cup on the counter. “What is that?” “Cherry vodka sour. Ironic, isn’t it?” I say, but he doesn’t laugh. Which surprises me, given they’re his favorite drink. Instead, his face twists in confusion as he looks from my face, back down to the cup, and up to my face again. “Did Steph give you that?” His tone is serious… too serious… and my mind is slow. Too slow. “Yeah… so?” “Fuck.” He snatches the cup from the
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Ohhhhh no
“To find Steph about my drink.” I lean farther onto the counter. Probably half of my body’s on it at this point. I can’t really tell. “He did? Hmm, I can help you find him.” He shrugs. “I think I saw him go upstairs.”
If Tessa ALSO gets raped on top of fucking everything else????
“I thought you…” I begin. But Steph puts her hands on my shoulders and pushes me back against the mattress. I can’t get back up. “You thought what? I was your friend?” She kneels on the bed, hovering over me. Steph’s fingers grip the bottom of my dress and begin to pull it up my thighs. “You were too busy being a whore going back and forth between Zed and Hardin to realize that I’ve actually always despised you. Don’t you think if I really gave a shit about you I would have told you that Hardin was only dating you to win a bet? Don’t you think a friend would have warned you?”
Ohhhhhh no
“Oh, and by the way.” She laughs. “I hope you had fun waiting on Hardin to show up on his birthday. Amazing what I can do with one little text. So a video camera must be so much worse, huh?”
IT WAS YOU
“Close the door—hurry,” Dan says, and when I crane my neck toward the door, I’m not surprised to find that Molly has joined us.
Dangit Molly, I defended you
“Why-y-y?” My voice is broken, and I’m vaguely aware of the tears on my cheeks, now wetting the sheets on the bed. “Why?” Dan echoes, bringing his face close to mine. “Why? Your asshole boyfriend taped himself fucking my sister—that’s why.” His warm breath on my face feels like mud. “Whoa!” Molly says loudly. “I thought you said you were only taking some pictures of her!” “We are… and maybe a little video,” Steph responds. “No way! Hell no, dude—you can’t have him rape her!” Molly shouts.
Omg Molly I knew you wouldn't let this happen
“He’s not… Jesus. I’m not, like, psychotic. He’s just going to touch her and make it look like they’re fucking so that when Hardin sees the tape he’ll fucking lose it. Just picture his face when he sees his innocent little whore of a girlfriend getting fucked by Dan.” Steph laughs. “I thought you were into this,” she hisses at Molly. “You said you were.” “I’m into pissing him off, but you can’t tape this shit.” Molly is whispering, but I can hear her clear as day.
Fix this, Molly. I believe in you.
“Shit,” Steph mutters. “Yeah, um, I’m talking to Molly. Be out in a minute!” I open my mouth to scream, but her hand clamps down over my face to silence me. It’s sticky and smells like alcohol. I try to look at Molly for help, but she turns away. Coward.
Dangit Molly
“I’m going downstairs,” Molly finally says when Dan brings the small camera in front of his face.
DANGIT MOLLY
I try my hardest to replace Dan’s hands with Hardin’s in my mind, but it’s impossible. Dan’s hands are soft, too soft, and I try my hardest to replace them with something, anything. I picture the softest blanket that I had as a child touching my skin… The door closes, signaling Molly’s exit, and I whimper again. “He’s going to hurt you,” I choke, keeping my eyes tightly closed. “Nah, he won’t,” Dan replies. “He’ll want to make sure no one sees this, so he won’t do shit.” His fingers trace along the top of my panties, and he whispers to me, “This is the way the world works.”
No it isn't???
“Tessa!” Zed’s voice booms from somewhere, and Steph covers my mouth again as I hear pounding at the door.
Zed is here to save the day!
Zed strides into the room, his presence filling it. “What the fuck!” he yells, rushing toward me. A blanket is thrown over my body by someone as I try to reach for him. “Help me,” I beg him, and pray that he isn’t involved in this nightmare. That he can actually hear me. He stalks toward Steph and grabs the small camera from her hands. “What the hell is wrong with you?” Dropping it to the ground, he stomps on it repeatedly.
Yes good
“Chill out, dude, it was a joke,” she says and crosses her arms in front of her just as Tristan enters the room. “A joke? You put something in her drink and you’re up here with a video camera while Dan tries to fucking rape her! That’s not a goddamn joke!” Tristan’s mouth falls open. “What?” Ever the manipulator, Steph points an accusatory finger at Zed and starts crying on command. “Don’t listen to him!” Zed shakes his head. “No, man, it’s true. Go ask Jace. She asked him for a benzo—and now look at Tessa! The camera they were using is right there.” He points to the ground. Holding the
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Omg yes Tristan. Kill her.
Shaking his head, Tristan turns to leave the room, but seems to change his mind as he swings his fist through the air, connecting with Dan’s jaw. Dan crumples to the floor, and Tristan makes toward the door again. Steph starts after him. “Get away from me! We’re done!” he yells and disappears. Circling, looking at everyone in the room, she yells, “Thanks a fucking lot!”
I mean. You did this to yourself.
He starts carrying me out of the room, but he stops in front of Dan, who is just picking himself up off the floor. “I hope when Hardin finds out about what you did, he fucking kills you. You deserve it.”
Can SOMEONE in this stupid series die???
