After (The After Series)

What the hell? He really is bipolar, I’m sure of it.
BACK IN MY DORM ROOM,
I find Zed, Tristan, and Steph sitting on her bed.
Tristan’s eyes are focused on Steph and Zed is flicking his thumb across the
trigger of a metal lighter. I would usually be annoyed with this many unexpected
guests, but I really like Zed and Tristan, and I need the distraction.
“Hey, Tessa! How were classes?” Steph asks and gives me a big smile. I can’t
help but notice the way Tristan’s face lights up when he looks at her.
“They were okay. You?” I put my books on my dresser and she tells me about
her professor spilling hot coffee on himself, making them get out early.
“You look nice today, Tessa,” Zed tells me, and I say thanks and crowd on
Steph’s bed with the three of them. The bed really is too small for all of us, but it
works. After we’ve been talking about various weird professors for a few
minutes, the door opens and we all turn to see who it is.
It’s Hardin. Ugh.
“Geez, man, you could at least knock for once,” Steph scolds him and he
shrugs. “I could have been naked or something.” She laughs, obviously not
angry at his lack of manners.
“Nothing I haven’t seen before,” he jokes, and Tristan’s face falls while the
other three chuckle. I can’t find the humor, either; I hate thinking about Steph
and Hardin together.
“Oh, shut up,” she says, still laughing, and grabs hold of Tristan’s hand. His
smile returns and he moves a little closer to her.
“What are you guys up to?” Hardin asks and sits opposite us, on my bed. I
want to tell him to get off but I keep quiet. I thought for a second he had come
here to apologize, but now I can see he just came to hang out with his friends,
and I am not one of them.
Zed smiles. “We were actually going to go to the movies. Tessa, you should
come.”
Before I can answer, Hardin speaks up quickly. “Actually, Tessa and I have
plans.” There is a strange edge to his voice.
God, he’s so moody.
“What?” Zed and Steph say in unison.
“Yeah, I was just coming to get her.” Hardin stands up and puts his hands into
his pockets, gesturing toward the door with his body. “You ready or what?”
My mind screams, No! but I nod and slip off Steph’s bed.
“Well, see you all later!” Hardin announces and practically pushes me out the
door. Outside, he leads me to his car and, surprising me, opens the passenger

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door for me. I stand still with my arms crossed, looking at him.
“Well, I’ll remember not to ever open a door for you again . . .”
I shake my head. “What the hell was that? I know full well you didn’t come
here to get me—you just got done telling me that you didn’t want to hang out
with me!” I yell.
And we are back to yelling at each other. He makes me crazy, literally.
“Yes, I did. Now get in the car.”
“No! If you don’t admit that you didn’t come here to see me, I will go back in
there and go to the movies with Zed,” I say, which makes him clench his jaw.
I knew it. I don’t know how to feel about this revelation, but somehow I knew
Hardin didn’t want me to go to the movies with Zed and that that’s the only
reason he’s trying to hang out with me now.
“Admit it, Hardin, or I am gone.”
“Okay, fine. I admit it. Now get in the damned car. I won’t ask again,” he says
and walks around to the driver’s side.
Against my better judgment, I get in, too.
Hardin still looks angry as he pulls out of the parking lot. He turns the
screeching music up way too loud. I reach down and shut it off.
“Don’t touch my radio,” he scolds.
“If you’re going to be a jerk the whole time, I don’t want to hang out with
you.” And I mean it. If he’s like this, I don’t care where we are, I’ll hitchhike
back to the dorms or something.
“I’m not. Just don’t touch my radio.”
My thoughts go back to Hardin tossing my notes into the air, and in turn I
want to yank his radio out and throw it out the window. If I knew I could tear it
from the dash, I would.
“Why do you care if I go to the movies with Zed anyway? Steph and Tristan
were going, too.”
“I just don’t think Zed has the best intentions,” he says quietly, his eyes glued
to the road.
I begin to laugh and he frowns. “Oh, and you do? At least Zed is nice to me.”
I can’t stop laughing. The idea of Hardin trying to protect me in some way is
hilarious. Zed is a friend, nothing more. Just like Hardin.
Hardin rolls his eyes but doesn’t give me an answer. He turns the music back
on and its guitars and bass literally hurt my ears.
“Can you please turn it down?” I beg.
To my surprise, he does, but leaves it on for background noise.
“That music is terrible.”
He laughs and taps the steering wheel. “No, it’s not. Though I would love to

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know your opinion on what is good music.” When he smiles like this, he looks
so carefree, especially with his window down, the breeze blowing through his
hair. He reaches one hand up and pushes his hair back. I love the way it looks
when it’s back like that. I shake the thoughts from my head.
“Well, I like Bon Iver, and the Fray,” I finally answer.
“Of course you do,” he says, and chuckles.
I defend my two favorite bands. “What is wrong with them? They are insanely
talented, and their music is wonderful.”
“Yeah . . . they are talented. Talented at putting people to sleep.”
When I reach across and playfully swat his shoulder, he mock winces and
laughs.
“Well, I love them,” I say with a smile. If we could just stay in this playful
state, I might actually have a good time. I look out the window for the first time,
but I don’t really know where we are. “Where are we going?”
“To one of my favorite places.”
“Which is where?”
“You really have to know everything that is going on in advance, don’t you?”
“Yeah . . . I like to—”
“Control everything?”
I stay quiet. I know he’s right, but that’s just the way I am.
“Well, I’m not telling you until we get there . . . which will be only about five
minutes from now.”
I lean back against the leather seat of his car and turn my head to glance at the
backseat. A messy stack of textbooks and loose papers rest on one side and a
thick black sweatshirt rests on the other.
“See something that you like back there?” Hardin catches me by embarrassed
surprise.
“What kind of car is this?” I ask. I need a distraction from both not knowing
where we are going and him calling me out for being nosy.
“Ford Capri—a classic,” he boasts, obviously proud. He goes on to tell me all
about it even though I have no idea what he is talking about. Still, I like to watch
his lips as he talks, the way they move slowly as the words are even slower.
After looking over at me a few times during the conversation, he pretty harshly
says, “I don’t like to be stared at,” though he does smile a little after.

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chapter twenty-five
W
e start down a gravel road, and Hardin turns the music off so that the only
noise is the little stones crunching beneath the tires. I suddenly realize we are out
in the middle of nowhere. I get nervous now; we are alone, really alone. There
are no cars, no buildings, nothing.
“Don’t worry, I didn’t bring you out here to kill you,” he jokes and I gulp. I
doubt he realizes that I’m more afraid of what I might do when alone with him
than if he was to actually try to kill me.
After another mile he stops the car. I look out the window and see nothing but
grass and trees. There are yellow wildflowers across the landscape and the
breeze is perfectly warm. Granted, the place is nice and serene. But why bring
me here?
“What are we going to do here?” I ask him as I climb out of the car.
“Well, first, a bit of walking.”
I sigh. So he took me here to exercise?
Noticing my sour expression, he adds, “Not too much walking,” and begins
along a part of the grass that looks flattened from being used a number of times.
We’re both quiet for most of the walk, save a few rude snips from Hardin
about me being too slow. I ignore him and take in my surroundings. I am
beginning to understand why he likes this seemingly random place. It’s so quiet.
Peaceful. I could stay here forever as long as I brought a book with me. He turns
off the trail and goes into a wooded area. My natural suspiciousness kicks in, but
I follow. A few minutes later we emerge from the woods to a stream, or really

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more of a river. I have no idea where we are but the water looks pretty deep.
Hardin doesn’t say anything as he pulls his black T-shirt over his head. My
eyes scan his inked torso. The way the empty branches of the dead tree are
drawn into his skin is more appealing than haunting under the bright sun. He
then bends down to untie his dirty black boots, glancing up at me, catching me
staring at his half-naked body.
“Wait, why are you undressing?” I ask and look at the stream. Oh no. “You are
going to swim? In that?” I say and point to the water.
“Yeah, and you are, too. I do it all the time.” He unbuttons his pants and I
have to force myself to not stare at the way the muscles in his bare back move
when he bends down and pulls them over his legs.
“I am not swimming in that.” I don’t mind swimming, but not in a random
place in the middle of nowhere.
“And why is that?” He gestures toward the river. “It’s clean enough that you
can see the bottom.”
“So . . . there are probably fish and God knows what in there.” I realize how
ridiculous I sound but I don’t care. “Besides, you didn’t tell me we were going
swimming so I have nothing to swim in.” He can’t argue with that.
“You’re telling me you’re the kind of girl who doesn’t wear underwear?” He
smirks, and I gape at him, and those dimples. “Yeah, so go in your bra and
panties.”