You’re Mine by Penny Brooks novel Chapter 122

Chapter 122

Easton

It's weird not having my phone.

And not being able to text my girl when I literally want to bang my head against my own locker, add in a few slams, then get high so my anxiety slows down all because I just need her.

Don't get me wrong, I'm still livid as fucking hell that she didn't tell her parents about me.

And let's be honest, I'm still embarrassed that I was eating her out under a mother fucking Christmas tree while both the Santa figurine and baby Jesus watched. Son of a bitch. I'm going to hell, aren't I?

I start to sweat as I think about all the ways I'll burn for shoving my head between her thighs while her mom walked in.

I pull my beanie down over my eyes and groan when the bell rings. Thank. God. I need my phone.

I need Harper.

It's been stressful since the cabin, her sickness, grades, upcoming finals and just everything, everything seems to be causing both of us to pull more apart just when I felt like things were finally getting better.

Add in fucking Blake and yeah, maybe I do need to just store edibles in my locker and pretend they're actual candy.

I barely make it to my locker when I see Ryan approach, and he looks just as tired as I feel. “School blows,’ he groans and leans against it.

"I can't wait to be done with all of this shit."

I put in my History book and slam my locker closed. “Something happen in Pre—Cal that I don't know about?

Or is this just you bitching like you always do that Mr. Clark is dumber than a box of rocks and needs to retire?"

“He called me Bryan,”

Ryan says. "Three times.”

I bust up laughing. "Damn, I needed that laugh. Did you at least respond?"

"Yeah, because he kept going, Bryan, Bryan, Bryan, and I was fucking annoyed. He pointed his stapler at me.

It was an entire experience that made me want to toss my desk."

He frowns. "Honestly, things with Sadie are going good, too good, I just have a weird feeling, one that tells me it can't always be like this and after..."

He hesitates. "You know the... desecration."

I glare. "Must you bring it up?”

"Some things you can't unhear, bro, some things scar you for life, you fucking ruined holiday decorations for my entire family.

I couldn't sleep and had to turn baby Jesus toward the window along with the little lamb because I felt guilty on your behalf.”

He shudders. “Anyways, it's just a lot. Don't people always say senior year is supposed to be the best?

Nobody ever talks about the stress.”

“All the stress,"

I groan. Ryan jerks his head toward the hallway behind me. "Speaking of stress, there's my sister and she looks...”

He frowns, and then slaps me on the back. "The same way she did when our grandma died so... may the odds be ever in your favor. I'm out.”

He runs away like a little bitch and I wonder why the hell she looks so angry and sad when I'm the one who got caught by her mom of all people—and not only that, I wasn't even brought into the fold as far as being her boyfriend. I frown. I cross my arms. I prepare for impact. "You."

She says it in a terrifying way that has my teeth clenching and my sperm most likely dying out of sheer terror. "You."

Does she really need to repeat it?

I don't ask. I simply clear my throat and wait. Tears start to fall. Damn, this isn't good. I reach for her only to have her flinch and pull back as more tears flow. People are watching. I have no clue what to do and almost ask if it's that time of the month when she points my phone at me, showing me my own screen.

I immediately feel like puking when I see the picture of Leigh and grab Harper by the wrist, pulling her down the hall and outside so that people can't hear, can't see, can't know.

Panic has me almost hyperventilating because what the hell do I say?

What. The. Hell. Do. I. Say?

It starts to rain, because of course it starts to rain when you're a senior in high school and dealing with drama and trying not to have a nervous breakdown. Hell, are we on Riverdale or starting our own Netflix drama these days?

I clench my fists as I stare at the photo of Leigh. Her tits could not be any more visible, obvious, huge, damning. "I didn't take that.”

I lie right away because I'm so used to it. I am so fucking used to being that guy, the one who's never been in a real relationship and doesn't want to get in trouble. But the minute I say those four words I regret it. Harper's eyes squeeze shut and open again, glassy yet so clear and sad that I want to rip my own beating heart out of my chest just so I can exchange it and take on her pain. My fault. Fuck. “The date,”

she whispers hoarsely. “It was the day everything changed for us, the night, the hot tub..."

More tears fall until she's full-on sobbing. "Did you cheat on me?

When I gave everything to you?

When I made the decision to be transparent?

When you made the choice to be the guy I've always known you could be?

When you said all those... things?"

A knot forms in my throat. I know I'm about to cry.

I'm still angry for my own reasons, but right now I feel like a complete dick head, the worst of the worst because while I took that to protect us—I still kept it from her, and the whole point of a relationship, of being open, is to share things that matter, and things that affect us.

"I'm starting over,’ I whisper as tears fill my eyes.

God, I can't believe I'm ready to cry, that I might actually shed a tear in front of my girlfriend. But it hurts.

It hurts so fucking bad. Everything hurts. I love this girl. I love her so much I don't know how to function.

And her expression is breaking me. I open my mouth, only to close it again, then finally mutter the damning words, "I lied. I'm sorry. I had my reasons. I only did it so—"

The bell rings at that moment. “Look, wait for me after school, I can explain...let me explain."

It's my turn to squeeze my eyes shut and open them again, knowing that this might end us. "I went over there to protect you—to protect us. And when she came onto me again—"

I take a deep breath. “She doesn't matter. Because you've always only been mine and I wanted to keep it that way."