Every Ugly Word Read online

  “Stop it! That tickles!” Brooke giggled. A shiver rode down my spine.

  Dex laughed. More shuffling, and a thump. Then there was nothing but the music.

  In fact, they were quiet for so long, I figured maybe they’d moved into the next room. But just as I was about to peer around the side to check, Brooke spoke again, in a strangely anxious tone.

  “I’m serious, Dex. Why’d you bring her?” The disdain in her tone was no surprise. But it still hurt.

  “Well, someone told me I didn’t stand a chance. I didn’t want to be alone tonight, so . . . ,” Dex said in a suggestive tone.

  “And you believed me?” she asked.

  Dex was quiet.

  “Okay, fine,” she said. “My bad. But you’ve gotta get some game, Dex. You can’t believe everything a girl tells you. I mean, you know . . .”

  Her voice dropped so I couldn’t hear. Then she laughed and Dex whined, “Aw, man. I can’t believe I wasted my time getting Finn and everyone to be nice to her!” Both their voices faded into the music.

  I backed away, but my feet felt like cement, my legs blocks of wood. Dex liked Brooke. He wasn’t nice because he liked me. He truly only brought me here for sex. And somehow he’d made Finn be nice so I wouldn’t say no.

  With a sob, I whirled, stumbled down the hall, past more doors and an alcove. I reached an open doorway on my right. The room beyond was dark, but another door led out to the back porch. I clapped a hand over my mouth to stifle my cries, slipped outside and ran across the porch and onto the sand.

  At first I stumbled blindly through the dunes, but occasional shouts and whoops said my friends had spilled out of the house and onto the beach. I wasn’t going to be safe just wandering around.

  So I turned for the patchy trees that lined the dunes behind the house and the deepest shadows between them, trying to keep my tearful hiccups quiet. I hadn’t gone ten feet before I realized the darkest shadow was actually behind the house—and solid enough to be some kind of building.

  It was a tiny A-frame with a wide, rickety door that wasn’t locked. Barely bigger than my bedroom, it had rails on the ground that suggested it had once been a boathouse. But the moonlight seeping in through the now-open door cast blue light on a bunch of boxes lining one wall, and some kind of couch in the corner.

  Beggars can’t be choosers. Praying there weren’t any deadly species of sand-beetles in Oregon, I wrenched the door shut behind me, cursing and embarrassing myself with more tears when I immediately tripped on one of the rails and fell to my knees.

  Gritty sand covered the floorboards, and I distinctly heard scuttling in the corner.

  Gasping, I launched myself onto the couch and huddled down.

  Ten points for pathetic desperation, Ashley.

  Tears slid down my cheeks and I dropped my face into my hands. I had to get out of there. But how? I’d come in Dex’s car. Mom wasn’t going to drive all the way out here . . . I tried to find an easier solution, but no matter how I looked at it, there was only one option.

  Matt.

  If I told him what I’d heard, he’d take me home.

  But I didn’t know where he was. And wherever he was, I’d no doubt find Karyn, too. What if they were upstairs right now?

  I sucked in deep breaths of sea air and told myself to get it together.

  I could do this. I could figure this out. Even if it meant hiding all night and commandeering Matt’s car in the morning . . . I could do this.

  But, man, I wished I didn’t have to.

  Chapter Twenty-two

  “So Dex was just hoping to sleep with you,” Doc sums up, somewhat redundantly.

  “Yeah. In fairness, I should have known,” I said.

  Doc leans back in his chair. “Let’s explore that a little bit. Do you feel you should’ve known because your older self should have told you? Or because Matt warned you?”

  “Neither.” I shook my head. “Dex was an eighteen-year-old boy. Even I knew that sex was beyond important—it was imperative for most guys. Even for Matt. Matt talked big about being a good guy, but the reality was, sex blinded him. If he was attracted to a girl, he wasn’t really thinking about anything else. And he was one of the nice ones.”

  “That’s a pretty bleak view of men,” Doc pointed out. “But I can see how, after prom, you would feel that way.” Doc’s voice is quiet, sympathetic. “I am sorry you had to go through that.”

  I squirm. “I don’t know. I mean, it sucked. But oddly, the night wasn’t all bad. There was one part when I was really happy. I don’t get to feel that way very often.”

  •••

  I have no idea how long I sat out there. Over time, my tears subsided and my eyes adjusted. I could make out lines of moonlight on the floor where it peeked between boards in the rotten door, and a hole in the wall that no doubt let in the inhabitants that gave my hideout its uniquely flavorful smell. Dust rose to mingle with the sea air every time I moved. But I couldn’t find the courage to move back toward the house.

  The night got darker and the party got louder. At some point several voices raised in argument inside the house, someone shrieking, another cursing. Then came the slam of car doors and a roaring engine. I wondered who had left, then decided I didn’t care.

  The party got quieter after that.

  I listened to the waves crashing onto the sand and decided I couldn’t risk walking in on Matt and Karyn together—it might finally send me over the edge. I’d wait. Try to get some sleep. Find Matt in the morning, preferably after he was dressed.

  An old blanket had been draped over the back of the couch. I tugged it off and shook it out, coughing with all the dust and blinking sand out of my already dry eyes. Then I laid it over the couch and sat down on top of it, loathe to cover my beautiful new dress in the scratchy, dirty cloth.

  I’d just pulled my knees up and eyed a suspicious shadow in the corner when voices rose again, this time from out on the sand.

  A minute later, a deep voice called, “Aaaaashley!” Between the slats in the door, a shadow of a guy rose from the dunes a few feet away.

  He stopped near the trees, peering between them, and shouted “Ash?”

  It was Matt.

  I gasped and he whirled around, stumbling through the dune-grass toward me. “Ash?”

  When he reached the door, he wrenched it open.

  “Ash? Are you okay?” He paused in the doorway, then rushed toward me, his feet making hollow thumps on the floorboards, before sliding to his knees beside the couch. I shushed him, uncertain whether to be dismayed or elated that he’d found me.

  “Seriously, Ash, everyone’s looking for you. What happened?” He searched my face in the dark, one hand on my shoulder. “What are you doing out here? What’s wrong?”

  “I-I had to get away from Dex . . .” My voice was breathy and broken.

  Matt’s fingers dug into my shoulder. “What did he do?” he asked, his voice deep and stilted.

  I looked up and found him there, caring—and I cracked, spilling out the whole stupid story. Matt didn’t move or speak the whole time, though his fingers tightened when I talked about maybe sleeping with Dex.

  When I finished, he let out a huge breath. The tension fell off him. He got to his feet and dropped to sit next to me.

  “C’mere,” he whispered, mouth twisted into a grimace. Then he gathered me close and stroked my back. I buried my face in his shoulder and gripped him tight.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, so close his lips brushed my ear. “I wondered, but he didn’t talk about you in front of me. And Finn didn’t tell me . . . Man, he sucks.”

  I didn’t know if he meant Finn or Dex, but I nodded against his chest. For the first time since I’d walked into this hellhole, I felt safe.

  Matt held me. He wasn’t doing that thing guys do when a girl cries, where they put an awkward arm around her and wish they were anywhere else. Matt held me—and muttered curses at the people who’d hurt me.

  “Ashle
y, look at me.” Matt squeezed my shoulders. Then he moved to tip my chin, forcing my head up. “Look at me.”

  My chest tightened with the urgency in his voice. I met his eyes with tears blurring my own. I could smell the sweet after-breath of beer over his cologne.

  “Have you been drinking?” I hiccupped.

  One side of Matt’s mouth slid toward a smile. “Barely. I got a little distracted when we realized you were gone.”

  I swallowed. “Well, I’m sorry for ruining your night. You should probably go. Karyn will have a cow if you disappear, too.”

  “Karyn’s not here.” He frowned. “We had a fight. Didn’t you hear?”

  Oh. “I didn’t realize that was you.” I pushed my lips together so I wouldn’t smile.

  “Half the girls got called home by their parents before they even got here. The rest joined forces with Karyn when she stormed out an hour ago and went to a motel. Including Brooke.” He grinned. “Only you would miss that.”

  “Wait, there are no other girls here now?”

  Matt shook his head and I groaned, burying my face in my hands.

  Stories would go around school about how I’d been the only girl left. I could only imagine what Karyn and her friends would do with that.

  “Hey, hey. Don’t worry.” Matt’s arms closed around me again, but I could hear the smile in his voice. “We’ll hang out tonight, stay out of everyone’s way, and I’ll drive you home in the morning, okay? Relax. It’s fine.”

  I looked up at him then. His grin broadened to a smile and he reached forward to brush a tear from my cheek. Then the thumb traced my cheek again.

  “Please stop crying,” he murmured and there was a new note in his voice that made me shiver.

  “Okay,” was the only thing I could think to say.

  Matt grinned, but only for a second. His eyes latched on mine and his thumb traced my cheekbone again, fingers coming to rest under my ear.

  “You look beautiful tonight. You know that?”

  “Sure. Puffy eyes and all—”

  His other hand cupped my face and he stared at me. “I’m serious.”

  I was frozen in that look.

  Matt ran his thumb across my bottom lip. “Ash?” he whispered.

  “Yes,” I said. And it was an answer to anything. Everything.

  Then, slowly, he tilted his head toward me.

  And for a second, when his lips closed on mine, I felt like I was watching it happen to someone else. But then . . . so softly, but so sure, I fell into his kiss. Matt was kissing me.

  Matt was kissing me.

  Matt was kissing me.

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Matt held my face so I couldn’t move away. His breath mingled with mine, and the hot, sweet smell of alcohol didn’t even matter. He kissed me like he wanted to, and I could have stayed there for hours. I didn’t care that we were in a creaky shack, or about the rush of air chilling my ankles. I grabbed at his shoulders and didn’t care what happened. I wanted to spend the rest of my life in that moment.

  Matt’s breath thundered in my ear as his fingers laced behind my neck and he kissed his way down my jaw to my throat, my collarbone.

  “I’ve been waiting to do that,” he breathed against the skin of my neck, his lips brushing the words away. “Every time I saw you tonight, I wanted to grab you and leave.”

  My head spun. Was this possible?

  “I always feel that way,” I whispered.

  He pulled back to meet my eyes. His hair was mussed, standing up in places. He cleared his throat, but I could hear his rapid breath. His lips parted and I ached to have them back. We stared at each other in the dark.

  “Why didn’t you say something?” Then he pulled me close again and kissed away my reply.

  The collar of his shirt twisted between my fingers. His kiss took mine and reflected it back. I let my hands drift down to his waist. I pulled his shirt out of his belt in rapid tugs, sliding my hands under it. The muscles of his abdomen clenched under my touch. My own tightened in response.

  Matt groaned and the sound echoed in my chest, sending electric currents through my insides. Our kiss deepened.

  When he pulled away, his fingers ran slow circuits on my upper arms.

  “Every time Dex touched you, I wanted to punch him,” he said softly.

  “Next time he does, you have my permission,” I said. Matt chuckled, then we were both quiet. His hand slid up my arm, leaving a delicious, tingling trail behind.

  I let my hands explore his neck and hair, marveling in the freedom to touch him. As his breath came faster and he pulled me closer, my hands slid under his arms and down his back. My fingers slipped under his loose shirt and traveled the curves and ridges of his back. He kissed my neck, his breath hot in my ear. With a start, I realized his hands were shaking and I smiled because he was nervous.

  Of course, he wasn’t the only one. Especially after he sat up and tugged his shirt off from the back. I sucked in a breath as he balled it up and shoved it over the crack between the couch arm and the seat. He lowered me slowly so my head rested on his shirt, and the smell of the boathouse faded underneath the clean, crisp scent of his cologne.

  Matt covered me with his body, and the weight of him was delicious. I wrapped my arms around him while he took all his weight on one arm as the other hand slid down my chest and stomach, down, under the hem of my skirt and back up, tickling the outside of my thigh with his gentle touch. I gasped and pulled him closer, wanting him. He kissed a line from my ear to my shoulder.

  “Have you got . . . I mean . . .” I panted, sure of what I wanted, but horrified by the idea of saying it.

  “Don’t worry,” he breathed in my ear. “We’ll be safe.”

  I smiled. I did feel safe. I was with Matt. I was going to be with Matt.

  Suddenly, Older Me’s voice rang in my head as clearly as if she were standing right there.

  “Don’t be like Finn and Karyn . . . You want to be able to look at yourself in the mirror the next morning . . . Better to make the right choice than to hate yourself the next day. You know?”

  Karyn was Matt’s girlfriend.

  She was a lying, cheating sack of pus.

  And she was also the reason he’d come prepared.

  “Wait! Stop!”

  I pushed at Matt, and he sprang away as if he’d been burned, landing on his side between me and the seat back.

  “What? Did I hurt you?” he gasped, one hand on my stomach, his head strained up awkwardly to examine me in the dark.

  I sat up, lightheaded. My clothes were askew and I was panting. I pulled my skirt down over my knees.

  “You’re prepared?” My voice wavered.

  Matt exhaled and dropped his head to my shoulder. “Yes,” he breathed, sounding relieved. “Don’t worry.” One hand drifted across my stomach and onto my waist, his fingertips following the line from my ribs to my hip, up and down.

  I pushed away his hand, hating myself for doing it. “That’s not what I meant.” I swallowed hard. “You came here prepared. You came here with Karyn and you came prepared. This—us—it’s only happening because you guys fought.”

  Matt drew away and propped himself up on one elbow. “You came here with Dex. You said you were prepared, too.”

  I shook my head. “I didn’t . . . I didn’t actually want to. And as soon as I realized he just wanted . . . It isn’t the same. This—you—this is something else.”

  Matt ran a hand through his hair, puffing a long, slow breath between his lips. Then he sat up, cocking a knee to lean on it. “What are you worried about?”

  What was I worried about? Everything. I was afraid that he’d look at me in the light of day and regret what we’d done. That, even if we slept together, he’d choose Karyn, the girl who was beautiful. Popular. Accepted.

  “You have a girlfriend, Matt,” I reminded him. “A girlfriend who hates me. And you came here ready to . . . to sleep with her. I’m second best. I’m only here because I
’m second best. Only here with you because she left.”

  Matt frowned. “That isn’t . . . I mean . . .”

  “What would happen, Matt? If she found out?”

  He was silent. Did he hear the question I hadn’t asked? Would he feel good about this in the morning? Would he still want me tomorrow?

  “This is stupid. You’re stressing about something that isn’t . . . I mean, we can’t know what’s going to happen in two hours, let alone tomorrow. Do we have to figure it out now?”

  But he was wrong. I could know what would happen tomorrow. And all of the sudden, I had to know. I had to ask Older Me. Was this a drunken mistake? Were we going to do this, then Matt would go running back to Karyn tomorrow? Or wish he could?

  “Ash?” His voice was little more than a whisper.

  He reached for me, but I was on my feet before I could change my mind. Matt called after me as I ran across the creaking boards, out onto the sand, and back into the house, but I knew if I let him touch me or talk to me I wouldn’t be able to stop. If I let him have me and he threw me away, I wouldn’t recover. I would smash into a million pieces, too small for anyone to glue back together. It was that simple. I couldn’t handle having Matt tonight and losing him tomorrow.

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Doc’s staring at me, his fingers rigid on his pen. I stare at them so I don’t have to think about what happened that night. For the first time I notice the wrinkles on his fingers. The way the hair on the back of his hand is faded and his skin has dark splotches. His hands look older than he does.

  Doc starts tapping the clicker on his pen against the notebook in his lap. I sigh. I don’t know if he realizes he’s doing it in time to the clock on the wall, ticking away the minutes left until none of this is going to matter anymore.

  “This was the first time you and Matt had had any kind of physical relationship?”

  I nod miserably as the memory comes rushing back.

  “And?” Doc asks softly.