This Hurt (This Boy Book 2) Read online

  I still don’t understand Hunter’s motives. None of it makes sense.

  Still, as nice as it would be to have been born an Ortega, actually living with Emmett is out of the question. I can envision the rumors flying already, see the other students side-eyeing me at school, whispering about how I hop from house to house, spreading my legs for any guy who’ll put a roof over my poor white trash head. That’s the last thing I need to be dealing with right now.

  Especially since I’ve been through this kind of thing before. Back in public school. When life was hell thanks to people making up all kinds of lies about me because I was getting straight As. See, girls like me, with families and backgrounds like mine, aren’t supposed to be smart. Girls like me aren’t supposed to be studious and hardworking and obsessed with books and GPAs. We’re suspect if we stay after school for tutoring because clearly it can only be a cover story for much less respectable activities.

  So even though I’m tempted by Emmett’s offer, I know I can’t accept.

  “I really, really appreciate the invite,” I tell him honestly. “But you know how the Academy is. What people would say.”

  He lets out a long sigh, then crumples the burger wrapper and tosses it in the box. “It doesn’t matter what anyone says. But yeah, I get it. I just don’t want you living somewhere you’re uncomfortable, and you sure as shit shouldn’t be stuck in the same place as someone who purposely hurt you.”

  He’s right, but what real choice do I have? My hidden stash of money isn’t enough for me to move out and live by myself yet. And my job—

  Shit, how am I going to keep on babysitting Harrison, acting as if nothing happened and everything is fine? What will I do when Hunter walks into the room and starts playing with his little brother?

  I never really thought about how things would go at my job if Hunter did something terrible to me. All I cared about was being with him, and I (wrongly) assumed that if we hit any bumps in the road, we’d find a way to make it work. I figured the worst thing we’d have to deal with would be me leaving for college. The joke’s on me for being this stupid, I guess. This hopeful.

  Still, I can’t quit babysitting. I love Harry, the money is good, and if the Becks still want me to take care of him—after whatever Mrs. Beck heard go down between me and Hunter this morning—I’m not going to just walk out on them. Not when I know how much Harrison enjoys spending time with me, and that it’s hard to find a good part-time nanny. The fact is, they need me. And I might need them too, as future references.

  “I’m gonna have to make it work,” I tell Emmett. “It’s not forever.”

  “You sure?”

  I nod. There’s no alternative that doesn’t involve me A) blowing my entire life savings to rent some crappy studio apartment and B) taking on a second job, which would eat up all my study time and likely prevent me from graduating with honors.

  “Spring break is coming up soon, anyway, and Hunter will be gone on the school trip. I just need to get through another week of this. It’ll be easier after that.” As I say the words, I hope they turn out to be true.

  Emmett drops me back off at home, but as I start to get out of the car he grabs the strap of my shoulder bag to stop me.

  “Hey, Milla?”

  “Yeah?”

  He blushes a little, looking down for a second. “I don’t know how to say this so it doesn’t sound cheesy, but I just wanted to say I’m here for you. Whatever you need, I’ll do my best to help. So don’t ever feel like you can’t ask, or that you shouldn’t. That’s what friends are for, you know?”

  Tears sting my eyes, and I crawl back into the car to reach across the seat and give him a hug.

  “Thank you,” I whisper into his shoulder. “It means a lot.” Trying to add some levity, I throw in, “And thanks for the animal fries.”

  “Any time,” he says. “We’ll figure out the scholarship, too. Don’t worry.”

  I nod and head across the pristine lawn, walking around the side of the house and through the gate so I don’t have to pass through the Becks’ front door and living room on my way to the pool house.

  As much as I want to believe Emmett’s reassurances about the scholarship stuff, I’m seriously worried. I’ve applied to plenty of them already, but competition is fierce, and the few that are left seem like they’re basically for legacies. Which makes me want to start crying all over again, because despite what Mr. Beck said about the “disadvantaged” always trying to manipulate the system, the truth is that shit is so much harder when you’re climbing your way up from the bottom, and so much easier when you’re already at the top. I have to constantly convince people that I belong in places where privileged kids don’t merit a second glance or a single doubt about their abilities.

  The scholarship board didn’t even check with me to see if Hunter’s information was true; they just took his words as fact. If a rich person says something, then it must be true. Why bother asking the actual girl whose future hinges on their charity? My hard work, my good grades, my whole personhood, they count for nothing.

  Meritocracy my ass.

  Chapter Three

  Camilla

  People say that going through a traumatic breakup is like grieving a death, but I don’t feel like Hunter is the one who died. It’s me.

  Getting up for school on Monday might be the hardest thing I’ve ever done. I’m a total zombie when my alarm goes off. My head’s throbbing. My limbs are heavy. My eyes feel dry and achy from crying. I want nothing more than to stay in this bleak cocoon of sheets and depression, but I can’t let this affect my grades, so I make myself get up and get dressed and eat a piece of toast. Leaving the house at the crack of dawn to catch the early bus is the only way to ensure I don’t run into Hunter. I have to avoid him, otherwise all the will I’ve summoned over the past day will crumble.

  It’s so early that Mom’s not even getting ready for work yet when I leave, which I consider a silver lining. I’m afraid of what she’ll say when we see each other next. These days, we barely see each other in passing at the Becks’ house while working our respective jobs, but she has eyes. And ears. I’m sure she knows something’s up.

  On the packed MTS bus, I go through my mental list of Monday classes, plotting out my route from door to door in order to best avoid crossing paths with Hunter. An Invisibility Cloak would be useful right about now, but since Oak Academy isn’t Hogwarts, I have to make do with what I have: a plan, a massive amount of anxiety, and the monumental will to disappear.

  When I get to the Academy, the front lawn is basically deserted, and so are the halls. Despite being here thirty minutes early, I waste no time going to my locker and getting what I need for the whole day so I won’t have to come back later. Hunter knows exactly where it is, and exactly when I usually stop to switch out my textbooks. I have to think of school like a warzone now, and my locker is prime ground for an invasion.

  Without asking questions, Emmett walks me from my first period history class to AP Bio on high alert, his body blocking mine. When we reach the door to the lab, he gives my shoulder a squeeze.

  “Only one more week, right?” he reminds me. “And then you can take it easy over spring break.”

  I nod. “Thanks. I owe you one.”

  Grinning, he shakes his head. “You don’t owe me anything. Just do what you gotta do. Catch you later, Milla.”

  For the rest of the day, I make sure to leave my classes in the midst of a group, scanning hallways and doors for a boy who towers above everyone else. Hunter may know where my classes are, but him being easy to spot works in my favor. Avoiding him should be easier than it is; before, we rarely ran into each other without meaning to. But today, it’s like he’s everywhere I turn. Trailing me like a massive douchebag shadow. Whenever I catch a glimpse of him I cut to the nearest exit route before I can start bawling my eyes out.

  A couple of times, I spot him just in time to see he’s walking in my direction with his jaw clenched determinedly. I fl
ee. My heart races, but there’s no way I’m going to let him catch up to me so he can make me look in his eyes and talk to him.

  I meant it when I said I was done. I don’t want anything to do with Hunter Beck.

  Come lunch hour, I’m standing in the cafeteria line, looking at the menu while waiting for Isabel to show. Other than that slice of toast this morning, I’ve eaten exactly nothing today. I should be hungry. I should be starving. My mouth should be watering at the sight of the Academy’s offerings. Instead, I only feel a vague nausea. And an emptiness, the kind you can’t fill with any sort of food.

  It’s almost my turn when the hair on the back of my neck starts to prickle. I look over my shoulder just in time to see Hunter glide through the entrance. My stomach gets that just-kicked feeling, my mouth going instantly dry.

  His blue eyes find me and lock onto mine. My mind flashes with images; memories of being in his arms, seeking and finding comfort, kissing him like my life depended on it, letting his hands roam all over me, letting him take and take and take.

  Feeling my eyes start to burn, I step out of line and head straight for the exit on the other side of the room. Whispers rise all around me, yet I pay them no mind. All of me is focused on getting as far away from Hunter as I possibly can.

  I know he knows I’m avoiding him. It’s got to be obvious by now, the same way it was obvious when he was the one avoiding me.

  My feet take me to the library, which is bound to be the safest place to hide for now. When I barrel through the double doors, Ms. Mercer, the librarian, looks up at me from her desk across the room, but then returns to her computer.

  It’s even quieter upstairs on the second floor, and I use the darkness between shelves as my shelter. I pull out my phone to text Isabel, my pulse finally calming.

  Can’t do lunch today—sorry. Hitting the books hard for exams.

  She hasn’t asked me about Hunter yet, which is strange. Isabel’s usually among the first people to be in on the rumor mill, since she tutors half the school for anything math related. Like the girl needs any more extra credit.

  Or maybe it’s that she has heard about it, and she’s pissed at me for not telling her. Great. The last thing I need is to be in a fight with one of my besties.

  As I slide the phone back into my pocket, Mom’s voice returns to my head in all its snide glory, congratulating me on skipping a meal and avoiding calories. We haven’t spoken to each other since Saturday evening, when her cruel words sent me running into Hunter’s arms.

  Then I’m remembering that night all over again, traitorous butterflies dancing in my stomach. How he kissed me, held me, put his mouth and tongue on me. The feeling of him moving inside me, the way he took it slow until I asked for more.

  That must’ve been part of his game. I realize that now. He lured me in with a false sense of security, then took my virginity just so he could brag about it. It must be a badge of honor for guys like him.

  The weight of my stupidity crushes me, stealing my breath. I didn’t think I had any tears left, but they’re sliding down my cheeks faster than I can swipe them away.

  That’s how Isabel finds me between the stacks, sitting on the floor with my back against the shelves, holding my knees to my chest, and hiding my face between them. Immediately, she drops down beside me and brings me into a side-hug, her hands running up and down my arm.

  “What the hell did he do?” she growls, immediately pinpointing the cause of my problems. “Did he dump you right after you slept with him? If he did that, I swear to god I’ll—”

  I shake my head, whispering, “He had his dad talk to the scholarship board for the Reed. Told them a bunch of lies about me from when I went to La Jolla High.” I shiver, remembering Sunday morning, how it had gone from waking dream to living nightmare. “They removed me from contention.”

  Isabel goes stiff. “What.”

  It’s supposed to be a question, but she doesn’t word it like one. “Yeah,” I say, because I don’t have anything more eloquent to add. I dig around in my bag for a tissue or a napkin, which of course I can’t find, and Isabel pulls away to look at me.

  “What possible reason could he have had for doing that?” she asks.

  “It doesn’t matter. It’s over now anyway.” I give up the search, wipe my eyes with the back of my hand, and drop my bag back on the floor. “That tuition money is gone, and nothing Hunter could say would make what he did okay.”

  “No. You’re right.” Isabel reaches into her purse, finds her tissues right away, and hands me a few. She’s pursing her lips tightly, staring at the shelves behind me like they’ve committed great crimes against her.

  “What’s that look for?” I ask after blowing my nose.

  Isabel narrows her eyes. “I’m trying to figure out how to get away with murder. It’s what he deserves.” At my worried look, she adds, “He sabotaged your dreams.” She looks down, then tentatively asks, “Why didn’t you call me? I would have listened.”

  “I know. I just…I guess I was afraid you’d think I’m stupid or you wouldn’t want to be my friend anymore,” I confess. “You never liked Hunter to begin with.”

  That gets her to crack a smile. “You’re not stupid. And yeah, I don’t like him, but I do like you. I’d never abandon you, especially not over some dude. I’ve made plenty of poor choices in that department myself.” She smiles again, but then her expression hardens. “Please don’t tell me you’re still living there.”

  I let out a sigh. It’s all the answer she needs.

  “Oh no. No, no, no.” Isabel plants her hands on my shoulders. “Milla, seriously. If shit’s hard for you over there, come stay with me. You already know it’s valid for LA next year, and it’s valid here, too. Plus you know how comfy my king size is.”

  She’s way too nice, and her generosity drives another stake through my heart and jerks it around the broken pieces. Isabel has her own demons to slay at this school, and if I move in with her, they’ll get so much worse.

  “People will say we’re—” I begin.

  “Fuck. The. Rumors. Let Hillary and the rest say we’re lesbianing together. Who cares?” She takes my hand and squeezes. “If staying at my place means you don’t have to worry about running into dickface Hunter 24/7, I’m more than happy to help. As for college…we’ll find you another scholarship.”

  “That’s what Emmett said. But how? My mom won’t even fill out the FAFSA with me.” A different part of my chest throbs with pain. Had I not brought up the whole college thing with my mom, our argument wouldn’t have even happened. I wouldn’t have run into Hunter’s arms and I wouldn’t have stupidly offered myself to him…

  Fresh tears well up, and Isabel gently pulls my head against her shoulder. “It’s going to be fine,” she says soothingly, combing my unruly waves with her fingers. “Trust me, Milla. If we can solve Ms. Campbell’s theorems together, we can definitely figure out a way for you to go to college. You don’t have to do this alone.”

  She’s right. Despite how alone I’ve felt now that I’ve cut Hunter out of my life, I do have support. Hunter just took up so much of my life over these past weeks that I almost forgot that I do have friends. Friends who care about me and want me to be fulfilled and successful, who will prop me up rather than tear me down.

  I get myself under control before pulling away. “Thanks, Isa.”

  “Sure. You can thank me properly by watching the rest of La Casa de Papel with me.” She sticks out her tongue. “It’s not the same when I have no one to listen to me complain about the flaws in the Professor’s plan. He is not as smart as everyone else thinks.”

  Isabel takes it upon herself to escort me to class afterward, and promises to meet me at my locker once last period ends. Somehow, I make it through the rest of the afternoon, hanging on to the fact that my friends haven’t abandoned me.

  After the final bell of the day rings, Isabel meets me at my locker, gently tapping my shoulder when she arrives. “Hey, lady. How are you?�
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  I give her a small shrug. “Dreading going home, to be honest.”

  “My offer still stands, you know. If you want, we can—” Isabel stops talking, eyes flitting to something over my shoulder. I know it’s Hunter before she even tells me, “Heads up.”

  I hurry up putting back the books in the locker and placing what I’ll need for homework in my bag. Not fast enough. With the metal door still open, I look down and spot his feet just inches away.

  “Camilla, just talk to me. Please,” he says.

  His voice. Goddammit, the sound of it can still make me ache.

  Under my lashes, I steal a glance at Isabel, who steps between me and him. “She doesn’t want to talk to you. Back off.”

  “With all due respect, you need to mind your own business,” Hunter says, sounding like the complete asshole he is. “This is between me and Milla.”

  “Milla’s my best friend, so it is my business.” Isabel straightens her shoulders, standing a little taller. “You have no right to invade her personal space. So go.”

  Tension crackles in the air, and I stay hidden behind the locker door.

  “Everyone else may be afraid of you and your daddy, Hunter,” Isabel hisses, “but I’m not. I will punch you in the balls so hard you’ll have to call an ambulance if you don’t leave in the next five seconds. That is a promise.”

  It’s admirable that she has zero fear when there’s a foot and a half and almost a hundred pound difference between them. Right now, I’d gladly pay to see her do what she’s threatening.