Sweet Like Revenge

23 - Damage Control

My mind was a mess of fuzzy memories and half-conversations as I walked through the school halls on Monday morning. If there was one place that I didn't want to be, it was school. I was tired, my stomach burned from my non-stop nausea the day before, and I really, really didn't want to deal with Matt.

But I knew that not going to school was worse than going. There was a good chance that I'd be the subject of schoolyard gossip, and there was an even better chance that Matt himself would be the one spreading it. I couldn't not defend myself. I had to protect the little reputation I'd worked so hard to build.

So I patted down my high-waisted skirt and combed my fingers through my bleached blonde hair before I entered first-period English. I plastered a confident smile on my lips and tried desperately not to look like the kind of girl who would get drunk and lose her inhibitions in some slimy football player's cabin.

The first odd thing that I noticed when I entered the classroom was the way that everyone stared at me. It wasn't in the way that I had expected them to — like I was some pitiable, alcoholic slut. They didn't seem to look at me with pity or disgust at all but, rather, with anticipation. For some, with envy.

The second odd thing that I noticed was the huge arrangement of pink roses waiting on my desk.

I darted my eyes to the seat beside mine and, sure enough, Matt stared back at me with his usual wide and doting smile.

"What's this?" I asked, more to myself than to him, my voice wavering slightly.

"You survived your first camp with us," Matt declared proudly, getting up from his seat and moving closer. "No thanks to me."

I blinked back at him, cautious. Testing the water before I jumped in.

"I shouldn't have made you take that shot," he clarified. "And I should've taken better care of you afterward."

I felt my heartbeat quicken as my adrenaline rose. Civility and apologies weren't something that I had expected from him. They were last on my list of expectations, actually, right after 'literally murder me'. I had expected Matt to be angry with me still, or shame me in front of the whole class. I thought that he would try to destroy me out of spite.

But he had bought me roses.

"Let it be my first and last screw up," Matt vowed flirtatiously as he steered me to my seat beside his.

After realizing that I was yet to say anything (and that everyone in the room was eyeing me expectantly) I finally lifted my gaze to meet Matt's.

"Thank you," I offered simply. It seemed to be enough to satisfy the ogling onlookers.

A smile tugged at Matt's lips as he moved closer to me, feigning some level of privacy as he lowered his voice. As if he wasn't hyperaware that he had captured absolutely everyone's attention. Including Sienna's.

He tilted his head to the side, knitting his brows together so that his forehead creased slightly. "How're you feeling?"

"Fine." I frowned, tracing a finger over one of the roses that stuck out from the bouquet so as not to meet his soft gaze again. It was too unnerving. "My head's a little sore, I guess."

Matt nodded, before sparing a glance at Kat and Sienna, who were each watching us from the corner of their eyes.

He tossed his gaze back to me before bringing his head closer, this time ensuring that his voice was low enough to actually escape everyone's ears but mine. "Do you... remember anything?"

I didn't remember everything. I remembered enough.

But I clamped my mouth together just in time to stop myself from admitting it. Or from confronting Matt altogether. I stopped because I realized that my English study buddy wasn't pretending that things were business as usual between us. He truly thought that they were. He was counting on me being so messed up at the party that I didn't remember anything that happened in the cabin. Not us making out, not him being forceful, and certainly not his drunken rant where he had told me about his precious little book.