Saving Athena ✓

14) Delicate

A t h e n a

"No party could have done this damage, Athena," Ace says, shooting me a glance, seeing right through me. I walk inside and wince. The house looks even worse with the lights on. My once pristine and clean house is now ridden and trashed.

"Maybe your parties are just lame," I deadpan, catching sight of the scowl that edges on the corner of his lips. He crosses his arms and leans his back against the wall in the foyer. "You should leave, I have to clean up."

No attempt to move from Ace. Instead, he tilts his head and frowns. "You're a horrendous liar."

"Hard to be a horrendous liar when you're not even lying in the first place."

"Another lie," he reads my mind. "There's blood on the floor, behind you." I don't turn to look at it because I know exactly whose blood it is. "What are you gonna lie and say this time? It's punch?"

"This little act," I point to him. "Isn't charming."

"Is it now?" He scoffs. "Tell me what happened and I'll be out of your life forever."

I frown and shift from each foot underneath me. "I don't want you to be out of my life though, you just became my friend."

"Nope," he shakes his head. "Never agreed to such a thing."

"You don't really agree to things like that," I shrug a shoulder. "It just happens."

"Well, I don't want it to happen."

"Why are you so against the idea of us being friends?" I exclaim, a little too loud. "Everyone needs a friend, Ace. Let me be yours."

"No."

"Then get out." I deadpan. "If you came here just to be annoying, then you can just leave. I already have enough to deal with. I don't need you piling on."

"So you're dealing with something," he keeps his voice calm. He steps forward. "That means something happened."

I let out a breath. "What are you doing?" I ask softly, my lower lip trembling.

"This couldn't be a party, there's no crumbs on the ground, no scattered cups on the floor." He raises his eyebrow. "The kitchen cabinets are open, your bedroom is ripped apart, your dresser draws are ripped through, and all of your clothes? On the ground."

"Couldn't decide on what to wear," I give a serene laugh.

"There was no party, no Charles or whatever his name is. You had a bruise on your cheek, you kept holding your gut like someone kicked you, and you passed out. Not party symptoms."

"Maybe you just never went to a crazy party."

His foot crushes on a piece of glass under him, he reaches down, picking up the glass. "Bourbon," he reads the label. "An old people drink, way too strong for someone your age."

"You say that as if you're so much older, only four years." I point out, he looks behind him, at the foyer. He goes over and with his foot, he slides over a pair of boots that dad forgot to take.

"Nice shoes," he mocks. "Except, you don't wear dark colors, and this is a size eleven in mens."

"They're Chads," I mumble, he kicks the shoes back and crosses his arms, his foot taps underneath him.

"Chad isn't real, I'm not an idiot. Drop it."

I stay quiet, biting my lower lip.

"You're nervous," he points to my lip which I let go of immediately. "You're nervous I'll find out what actually happened here."