Cole

          
It's been over a week since I last saw Wynn.

One shitty, messed up week.

Not only was I dealing with the fallout from the injuries I received as a result of the run-in with my furious father, but also the demise of the recently revived spark between Wynona and me. It wouldn't be the first time, obviously, but every time my dad gets violent, I feel her slip a little further away.

I've texted her every day, often more than once. She's ignored me like a champ, her silence speaking volumes. This wasn't an unexpected reaction, since it happened once before right after we got caught sneaking off to Breckenridge. Last time, my persistence broke her resolve in two days, with Wynn being willing to at least remain in communication with me. This go around, it's been radio silence.

I gave up texting a couple of days ago. Instead, I'm banking on seeing her in person at our annual back to school party tonight— the one and only parent-sanctioned party Taylor and I are allowed every year, outside of our birthdays.

Truth be told, it's really only a thing because Taylor pouted her way into it when she was a freshman two years ago. Daddy dearest even hires a waitstaff, a nice bonus earned through one of Tay's infamous tantrums. She's got him wrapped around her finger. I don't mind being the beneficiary of her manipulative efforts, though.

Mom and dad cleared out several hours ago, and with good reason. I wander around the house as Taylor and her bitchy friends scamper about, prepping the rooms for the onslaught and setting out various foods and drinks. They talk incessantly about their clothes and hair, and nearly every bathroom I walk past is filled with a vapid airhead caking on more layers of makeup.

This isn't really my thing, being here for what's certain to become the shit show it is every year. Still, it's the best chance I have of seeing Wynn.

If she comes.

...

Our house is bursting at the seams with warm bodies, but there's only one that I care about. I haven't found her yet.

The scene is ridiculous as usual: alcohol galore, despite the fact that it was strictly prohibited by my parents, earsplitting music, and plastered classmates pawing at each other on the make-shift dance floor.

A bore.

Or maybe I'm just being a moody asshole.

"Can I get a water?" I ask Greg Hayword, who volunteered to be bartender for the evening. The waitstaff won't touch the booze for fear of liability, so it was up to my classmates. They showed up with loads of alcohol, as expected. As stupid as it is, I work too hard for this body to fill it with empty calories. I simply can't afford to.

"Water?" Greg laughs, and I kinda wanna strangle him. "C'mon man, how 'bout something with a little kick?"

"Just a water," I repeat sternly, stifling my anger. Greg eyes me as if I'm some sort of lunatic, but I couldn't care less about his opinion. He's had a thing for Wynn ever since I've known him, but she's always ignored his relentless pursuit.

The things he says about her drive me insane. Her rep took a huge hit sophomore year when he counted her among his conquests. Needless to say, I knew he was being a lying sack of shit. I wasn't the only one, but his words did their damage anyway.

And then the prick has the audacity to continue asking her out. Unbelievable.

I stare him down as he uncaps a bottle of water, shifting uncomfortably under my scrutiny. We've never really been friends, but spend a lot of time together because of football and mutual friendships. I freakin' hate his guts.

"Dayum. Wynona brought her A-game," he growls, looking over my shoulder. "I'm so gonna tap that."

I close my eyes, taking a deep breath and willing myself not to leap over the bar to pound Greg's face in. My body trembles with pent up adrenaline, itching for a throw-down that can't happen. I'd all but confirm a lot of people's suspicions about the two of us if I ever went there, and that wouldn't be good for Wynn or me.

Instead of focusing on the rage that's brewing deep within me, I turn to find Wynona.

My peace.

She's beautiful, dressed in a short red dress with her long dark hair falling in waves over her shoulders. She smiles, moving toward me with her best friend Colby in tow and I swear I'm done. My heart hammers away in my chest, and I've all but forgotten the ass-face behind me when he ruins the moment.

"Hello, ladies," he says, leering at the two of them. "What'll you have?"

"Two cokes," Colby supplies, leaving me with an opening to speak to Wynn while Colby's distracted by Greg and his phony good guy performance.

"You look—"

"Don't, Cole," Wynn warns. "I can't. You can do so much better than me. Someone who won't lead to pain. " She nods toward Colby. "Move on. You and I are finished. Be with a girl who's deserving of somebody as amazing as you." She smiles tightly, and when I reach for her, she shrugs my hand away.

"Colby?" I hiss, completely caught off guard by her proposal. In truth, I find it mildly offensive. Not that there's anything wrong with Colby—she's smart, gorgeous and ridiculously friendly. I simply can't believe that Wynn would discount my feelings for her so readily, as if any substitute will do.

It's Wynona that I love.

"Look, Cole," Wynn continues, her tone sharp. "Being with someone like her will serve you far better. Your family isn't at war with the Byers' like they are with mine. Honestly, Harris would probably give you a pat on the back if you brought home an heiress." She crosses her arms and raises an eyebrow, as though she's daring me to counter her argument.

I won't.

Her words cut me to my core. Not only does she doubt my level of devotion. She's not even willing to fight for me in return. We are nothing without commitment, and I can't do that alone. I've done more than my fair share of pride-swallowing over the past few years. Hell, I wasn't even above begging at times, but this...

This is it.

"Fine," I say. "It's a good idea." I smirk in convincing fashion, though internally I'm crushed.

"Oh... right. I'm glad you feel that way," she mutters, and I see the regret. I feel her heartache because it's something that I share. She glances toward Colby, who's happily chatting with Ass-face, and her expression changes, a breathtaking smile forming on her lips.

Only it's false, all a show for her lifelong friend.

"I was just talking to Cole here, B, and it turns out the two of you have a whole lot in common," Wynn says, giving Colby's shoulder a squeeze in encouragement.

I guess she's not giving me a say in the matter, throwing herself headlong into matchmaker mode.

Fine.

"Yeah, it sounds like it," I say, moving past Wynn toward Colby. "Would you like to dance?"

"Sure!" Colby beams. I take her by the hand, leading her into the crowd of tangled, swaying bodies.

We dance and talk into the night, having a genuinely enjoyable time. At one point we even get caught up in an impromptu karaoke competition. I throw my arm around her, singing a lousy rendition of 'Something Just Like This'. Colby is sweet as sugar and full of spunk. I like her.

Like being the operative word.

She breaks away from me once to get a refill with Wynn, whom I've been watching from a distance. Wynona remains resolute, pointedly ignoring the love connection she's striving to form between Colby and me. Two can definitely play at this game.

"Let's go somewhere more private," I say. "We can talk and hang."

"Okay, let's!" Colby shouts a little louder than necessary. We walk toward the staircase, with Colby uneasy on her feet. Maybe she's tired. It is getting late...

Climbing the stairs, we're hand in hand. We're almost to the top when I catch Wynn's eye, seeing uncertainty and determination at war. I know this side of her. Determination always wins. She isn't going to back down.

Neither will I.

So I toss her a wink, conveying my gratitude for her matchmaking efforts, though it's completely insincere. She looks away, turning her attention to that annoying gnat Ari Castillo. I shake my head, putting her out of my mind.

"Whew, it's hot in here," Colby says when we reach my room, immediately shedding her sweater. She runs a shaky hand over her forehead, removing a layer of sweat from her brow.

"I think it's alright... are you okay?" I watch her as she investigates my room's contents. She's not herself right now. She's still bubbly and fun, sure, but also rather unpredictable. I know her first drink was a Coke, but maybe her second and third were harder. Maybe she's drunk.

"C'mere," she says, motioning me toward her with a finger. She grins, but it isn't her. Too...goofy. She's gotta be trashed.

"Can I take you home?" I ask, standing before her swaying form. I put a hand on her hip to steady her. "I haven't been drinking, so it's no big deal."

"No. Come closer. I want to tell you a secret."

I lean in, tipping an ear toward her lips.

"I have a little crush on you," she whispers, bringing a reluctant smile to my face.

And that's when the shit hits the fan.

My door swings open, revealing a highly pissed Wyatt Matheson. Just what I need right now.

I back away from Colby with my hands raised, knowing how possessive he is, even though they're no longer together.

"What're you, oh—" Colby croons, her eyes landing on her overexcited ex-boyfriend.

"What in the actual hell, Wyatt," I spit, tossing Colby her sweater. She's too slow to catch it so it hits her in the face and falls to the floor, where she drops to her knees to put it on.

"What did you do," Wyatt growls, his shoulder bouncing off of me when he passes, knocking me into the wall behind me.

What did I do? Seriously? Oh, no worries, pal. Just taking care of your hammered ex...

"Why are you here, loser?" I say. "Colby and I were just fine before you showed up."

He ignores me, opting instead to help a struggling Colby put her sweater on correctly. He guides her to my bed, where he settles her before turning to face me. Wyatt's always been such a self-righteous prick— one of the many reasons I can't stand him. He also goes through girls like water, to include my sister. And while I don't exactly like Taylor, I like Wyatt even less.

I can't help myself. "You're just jealous that she's into me."

His fist collides with my eye, and I slump to the floor. "Dammit, Wyatt! What is your problem!" I grunt, covering my throbbing eye with a hand. At least he didn't aim any lower... My ribs still ache from where my dad used me as a punching bag earlier this week.

"Maybe you'll think twice before you drug a girl again," Wyatt spews.

Drugs? What in Hades name?

"Wow Cole, I think Wyatt hit you," Colby giggles helpfully before she topples over.

"You think?" I mutter. "I didn't drug her, douchebag! She's just drunk!"

"I'm not drunk, Cole!" Colby bellows. "I don't drink anymore, remember Wyatt?"

"Sure, B," Wyatt grunts before scooping her off of the floor and setting her on her feet."Let's go."

"I swear I didn't drug her Wyatt," I say, angry beyond any measure that he would accuse me of something so heinous. Drugs? "I can't believe you'd think I would do something like that."

"Never again. Never," Wyatt fumes, pointing an indignant finger at me like the tool he is.

"Just leave," I say, completely fed up with his whirlwind of unnecessary chaos. He throws Colby, who's pleading for more dance time after all this unnecessary shit, over his shoulder and cave mans his way out of my room.

While I hate to admit it, I harbor a tiny sliver of reluctant admiration for that asshole. He and Colby aren't together any longer. Everyone at North High knows that. Yet I know he'd trek through hell with an infuriating smile on his face to keep her safe, to be there for her for any reason. I'd do the same for Wynn, I really would. She'd just never let me.

The truth? I envy Wyatt and Colby. For what they had and for what they have. And I hate it.

I blow out a hefty breath, picking myself up and having a look in the mirror. My eye is already black and blue, thanks to that stupid mofo.

What is it about me that shouts 'punch me!' to all of the over-aggressive freaks in my life?

"What happened here?" Wynn says. I didn't even hear her come in. She stares at me, wide-eyed and mouth agape. "What happened to your eye?"

"Just a love tap from Wyatt," I snap.

"Can I bring you some ice? Are you alright?" she asks, moving closer. "

"We don't share anything anymore, remember? You wanted me to move on with Colby apparently, judging by your subtle hinting earlier, so that's what I'm doing."

"That's... that's good," she breathes, her eyes meeting my one working one. We watch one another intently, all of our unfulfilled promises and declarations evaporating like long forgotten memories between us. Wynn nods once then, only to turn around and leave.

Damn. Not how I saw tonight going at all.