After (The After Series)

How could I do this to him? What the hell was I thinking? Noah is so kind,
and Hardin’s cruel enough to break Noah’s heart in front of him.
Noah’s hands go to his forehead and he shakes his head. “How could you,
Tessa? After everything we have been through? When did this start?” Tears
stream down his face from his bright blue eyes. I have never felt this terrible—I
caused those tears. I look over at Hardin and my hatred for him consumes me so
that I shove him instead of answering Noah. Hardin is caught off guard and
stumbles backward, but he steadies himself before he falls.
“Noah, I am so sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking.” I rush over to my
boyfriend and try to hug him, but he refuses to let me touch him. And he’s
probably right to. If I’m being honest, I’ve not been good to Noah for a while. I
don’t know what the hell I was thinking. I suppose something crazy like Hardin
becoming decent and me breaking up with Noah so I could date him—how
stupid can I be? Or that I could just stay away from Hardin and Noah would
never know about what happened between us? The problem is that I can’t stay
away from Hardin. I am a moth to his flame, and he never hesitates to burn me.
Both were stupid and naïve ideas, but I haven’t made one good choice since I’ve

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met Hardin.
“I don’t know what you were thinking, either,” Noah says, with a look of
regret and hurt in his eyes. “I don’t even know you anymore.”
And with that, he walks out the door. Out of my life.
“Noah, please! Wait!” I rush after him, but Hardin grabs my arm and tries to
pull me back.
“Don’t touch me! I can’t believe you! This is low, Hardin, even for you.” I
scream and jerk my arm out of his grasp. I push him again, hard. I have never
pushed anyone in my life before today, and I hate him so much.
“If you go after him, I’m done,” he says, and my mouth falls open.
“Done? Done with what? Fucking with my emotions? I hate you!” But not
wanting him to feed off my rage, I slow down and speak more calmly. “You
can’t end something that never began.”
His hands fall to his sides and his mouth opens but no words come out.
“Noah!” I call and rush out the door. I run down the hall and out across the
great lawn, finally catching up to him in the parking lot. He starts walking faster.
“Noah, please listen. I am sorry, so sorry. I was drinking. I know that isn’t an
excuse, but I . . .” I wipe my eyes and his face softens.
“I can’t listen to you anymore . . .” he says. His eyes are red. I reach for his
hand, but he pulls away.
“Noah, please, I am so sorry. Please forgive me. Please.” I can’t lose him. I
just can’t.
Reaching his car, he runs a hand over his perfectly gelled hair, then turns to
face me. “I just need some time, Tessa. I don’t know what to think right now.”
I sigh in defeat, not knowing what to say to that. He just needs time to get
over this and we can go back to normal. He just needs time, I tell myself.
“I love you, Tessa,” Noah says, then catches me by surprise when he kisses
my forehead before climbing into his car and driving away.

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chapter thirty-seven
B
eing the disgusting person that he is, Hardin is sitting on my bed when I
return. Visions of me grabbing the lamp and bashing him in the head flash
through my mind, but I don’t have the energy to fight with him.
“I’m not going to apologize,” Hardin tells me as I walk past him toward
Steph’s bed. I will not sit on my bed while he’s on it.
“I know you aren’t,” I say and lie back.
I won’t let him bait me into this fight, and I don’t expect him to apologize. I
know him better by now. Well, recent history would say that I don’t know him at
all. Last night I thought he was just an angry boy whose father left him, and that
he held on to that hurt, using the only emotion he could to keep people out. This
morning, I see that he is just a terrible, hateful person. There is nothing good
about Hardin. At any moment I believed there was, it was only because that is
what he tricked me into believing.
“He needed to know,” he says.
I bite down on my lip to prevent the tears from returning. I stay quiet until I
hear Hardin get up and move toward me. “Just go, Hardin,” I say, but when I
look up he is standing over me. When he sits down on the bed, I jump up.
“He needed to know,” he repeats, and anger boils inside me. I know he just
wants to get a rise out of me.
“Why, Hardin? Why did he need to know? How could hurting him possibly be
a good thing? You weren’t affected one bit by him not knowing—you could have
gone on with your day without telling him. You had no right to do that to him, or

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me.” I feel the tears coming again but this time I can’t stop them.
“I would want to know if I was him,” he says, his voice steady and cold.
“You aren’t him, though, and you never will be. I was stupid to think you
could possibly be anything even close to him. And since when do you care about
what is right?”
“Don’t you dare compare me to him,” he snaps. I hate the way he chooses
only one of my statements to respond to, and that he usually warps what I’m
saying to better provoke himself. He stands up and moves toward me, but I back
away to the other side of the bed.
“There is no comparison. Don’t you get that by now? You are a cruel and
disgusting jerk who doesn’t give a shit about anyone but yourself. And he—he
loves me. He is willing to try to forgive me for my mistakes.” I stare into his
eyes. “My terrible mistakes,” I add.
Hardin takes a step back as if I’d pushed him. “Forgive you?”
“Yeah, he will forgive me for this. I know he will. Because he loves me, so
your pathetic plan to get him to break up with me so you can sit back and laugh
didn’t work. Now get out of my room.”
“That wasn’t . . . I—” he starts to say, but I cut him off. I’ve wasted enough
time on him already.
“Get out! I know you’re probably already plotting your next move against me,
but guess what, Hardin? It isn’t going to work anymore. Now get the fuck out of
my room!” I am surprised at my harsh words, but I don’t feel bad for using them
against Hardin.
“That isn’t what I’m doing, Tess. I thought after last night . . . I don’t know, I
thought you and I . . .” He seems to be at a loss for words, which is a first. Part
of me, a huge part of me, is dying to know what he is going to say, but this is
how I got so tangled in his web in the first place. He uses my curiosity against
me, like it’s all a game to him. I furiously wipe my eyes, thankful I didn’t wear
makeup yesterday.
“You aren’t really expecting me to buy that, are you? That you feel something
about me?”
I need to stop and he needs to leave before his claws sink deeper into me.
“Of course I do, Tessa. You make me feel so—”
“No! I don’t want to hear it, Hardin. I know you’re lying, and this is your sick
way of getting off. To make me believe that you could possibly feel the same
way about me as I do about you, and then will flip the switch. I know how this
goes by now, and I won’t keep it going.”
“Feel the same way you do? Are you saying that you . . . you have feelings for
me?” His eyes flash with what appears to be hope. He is a much better actor than

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I thought.
He knows I do, he has to know that. What other reason could there be for me
to keep this unhealthy cycle between us going? With a fear I’ve never felt
before, I realize that though I had barely admitted my feelings for Hardin to
myself, I now have put them out there in front of him, giving him easy access to
smash them. Worse than he already has.
I feel my walls slowly being torn down by the way Hardin is looking at me
and I can’t let it happen. “Leave, Hardin. I won’t ask again. If you don’t leave I
will call campus security.”
“Tess, please answer me,” he begs.
“Don’t call me Tess; that name is reserved for family, friends, for people who
actually care about me—now leave!” I yell, much louder than I had planned. I
need him to get out and get away from me. I hate when he calls me Theresa, but
I hate when he calls me Tess even more. Something about the way his lips move
when he says it makes it sound so intimate, so lovely. Damn it, Tessa. Just stop.
“Please, I need to know if you—”
“What a long weekend, boys and girls—I am exhausted!” Steph says as she
bursts into the room, playful exhaustion coloring her words. But when she
notices my tearstained cheeks, she stops and her eyes narrow at Hardin.
“What is going on? What did you do?!” she yells at him. “Where is Noah?”
she asks and looks at me.
“He left, just like Hardin is about to,” I tell her.
“Tessa . . .” Hardin begins.
“Steph, please make him leave,” I beg and she nods. Hardin’s mouth falls
open with annoyance at my use of Steph against him. He thought he had me
trapped again.
“Let’s go, Boy Wonder,” she says and grabs his arm, dragging him toward the
door.
I stare at the wall until I hear the door shut but immediately hear their voices
in the hall.
“What the hell, Hardin? I told you to stay away from her; she is my roommate
and she’s not like the other girls you mess with. She’s nice, innocent, and,
honestly, too good for you.”
I am pleased and surprised by the way she is sticking up for me. But it still
doesn’t soothe the pain in my chest. My heart literally hurts. I thought I had
experienced heartbreak after my day with Hardin at the stream, but that was
nothing compared to how I feel right now. I hate to admit it to myself, but I
know that spending the night with Hardin last night made my feelings for him so
much stronger than they already were. Hearing him laugh while he tickled me,

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the way he gently kissed my lips, his tattooed arms wrapping around me, the
way his eyes fluttered and closed when I traced my fingers over his bare skin—
all of it made me fall deeper for him. Those intimate moments between us that
made me care for him more also make this hurt so much more. On top of that, I
have hurt Noah in a way that I can only pray he forgives me for.
“It’s not like that.” In his anger his accent has become thick and his words
clipped.
“Bullshit, Hardin, I know you. Find someone else to mess around with; there
are plenty of other girls. She isn’t the type of girl you need to be doing this with;
she has a boyfriend and she can’t handle this shit.”
I don’t like hearing her say that I’m too sensitive, like I’m weak or something,
but I guess she is right. I have done nothing but cry since I met Hardin, and now
he has tried to ruin my relationship with Noah. I don’t have what it takes to be
something like friends with benefits, regardless of how he makes me feel. I have
more respect for myself than that and I’m too emotional.
“Fine. I will stay away from her. But don’t bring her to any more parties at my
house,” he snaps, and I hear him stomping off. As he goes down the hall, his
voice recedes, too, as he yells, “I mean it, I don’t want to see her again! And if I
do, I will ruin her!”

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chapter thirty-eight
S
teph walks in and right away wraps her tiny arms around me. It’s odd that her
frail arms can feel so comforting.
“Thank you for making him leave,” I say, sobbing, and she hugs me tighter.
My tears really are flowing now and I don’t see an end in sight.
“Hardin may be my friend, but so are you, and I don’t want him upsetting you.
I’m sorry, this is all my fault. I knew I should have given my key to Nate, and I
shouldn’t have let him come around you all the time. He can be a real dick.”
“No, it’s not your fault at all. I am sorry, I don’t want to come in between your
friendship.”
“Oh please,” she says.
I pull out of her embrace and see the look of concern on her face. I appreciate
her being here with me more than she will ever know. I feel completely alone:
Noah’s taking time to decide whether to break up with me or not, Hardin is an
asshole, my mother would lose it if I talked to her about this, and Landon would
be disappointed in me if he knew the depth of my situation with Hardin. I
literally have no one except this flame-haired, tattooed girl who I never expected
would become my friend. But I’m really glad she did.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
I do, actually, I want to get it all off my chest. I tell her everything, from the
first time I kissed Hardin, to our day at the stream, to the orgasm I gave him and
how he called my name in his sleep, to the way he destroyed every ounce of
respect I had for him when he made me tell Noah. Her face goes from concerned

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to shocked to sad during my story. My shirt is soaked with tears by the time I
finish and she is holding my hand.
“Wow, I had no idea that so much happened. You could have told me after the
first time. I knew something was up when Hardin showed up here the night we
were going to the movies. I had literally just got off the phone with him, then he
shows up, so I’d suspected he came here to see you. Listen, Hardin is a good
guy, sometimes. I mean, deep down he just doesn’t know how to really care for
someone the way that you—well, most girls—need to be cared for. If I was you,
I would try to make things work with Noah because Hardin isn’t capable of
being anyone’s boyfriend,” she says and squeezes my hand.
I know everything she is saying is true and she is right. So why does it hurt so
bad?
ON MONDAY MORNING,
Landon is leaning against the brick outside the
coffeehouse, waiting for me. I wave when I see him, but then I notice he has a
blue-purple ring around his left eye. And when I look closer, I see another bruise
on his cheek.
“What happened to your eye?!” I exclaim, running up to him.
Realization hits me like a truck. “Landon! Did Hardin do this?” My voice is
shaky.
“Yeah . . .” he admits and I am horrified.
“Why? What happened?” I want to kill Hardin for hurting Landon.
“He stormed out of the house after you left and then came back about an hour
later. He was so pissed. He started looking around for more stuff to break, so I
stopped him. Well, I fought with him. It wasn’t so bad, actually. I think both of
us got a lot of our anger toward each other out. I got quite a few good hits on
him, too,” he boasts.
I don’t know what to say. I’m surprised at Landon’s light tone while talking
about fighting with Hardin.
“Are you sure you’re okay? Is there anything I can do?” I ask him. I feel like
this is my fault. Hardin was mad because of me, but assaulting Landon?
“No, really, I’m okay.” He smiles.
While we walk to class he tells me how Hardin’s father broke up their fight,
luckily arriving home before they killed each other, and how his mother cried
when she realized Hardin had broken all her dishes. Though they didn’t have any
sentimental value, she was hurt that Hardin would do that nonetheless.
“But in other news, much better news, Dakota is coming to visit next
weekend. She is coming to the bonfire!” He smiles.

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“Bonfire?”
“Yeah, haven’t you seen the signs all over campus? It’s an annual thing, to
start the new year. Everyone goes. I am not usually into stuff like that, but it’s
actually a pretty good time. Noah should come up again. We can make a double
date out of it.”
I smile and nod. Maybe inviting Noah would show him I do have some good
friends, like Landon. I know Hardin and Landon—I mean, Noah and Landon
would get along great, and I really want to meet Dakota.
Now that Landon has mentioned the bonfire, I notice signs littering almost
every wall. I guess I was just too distracted all week to notice.
Before I know it, I’m in Literature and begin scanning the room for Hardin,
despite my subconscious shouting at me not to. When I don’t see him his voice
plays in my head: I will ruin her.
What could he possibly do that’s worse than outing me in front of Noah? I
don’t know, but I start imagining things until Landon breaks me out of my zone.
“I don’t think he’s here. I heard him talking to that Zed guy about switching
his classes around. Darn, I do wish you could see his black eye.” Landon smiles
at me and my eyes snap to the front of the room.
I want to deny that I was looking for Hardin, but I know I can’t. Hardin has a
black eye? I hope he is okay; no, I don’t, actually. I hope it hurts like hell.
“Oh, okay,” I mumble and pick at my skirt.
Landon doesn’t mention Hardin for the rest of the class.
THE REST OF THE WEEK
is exactly the same way: I don’t talk about Hardin
to anyone and no one mentions him to me. Tristan has been hanging out in our
room all week, but I don’t mind. I actually really like him and he makes Steph
laugh, and even me, too, sometimes, despite what seems to be the worst week of
my life. I’ve just been wearing whatever is clean and handy and pulling my hair
into a bun every day. My short-lived affair with eyeliner has ended and I am
back to my normal routine.
Sleep, class, study, eat, sleep, class, study, eat.
By Friday, Steph’s clearly making an effort to get this spinster out and about.
“Come on, Tessa, it’s Friday. Just come with us and we’ll drop you back off
before we go to Har . . . I mean the party,” she begs, but I shake my head. I don’t
feel like doing anything. I need to study and call my mother. I’ve been dodging
her calls all week, and I need to call Noah and find out if he’s made a decision.
I’ve been giving him his space all week, only sending him a few friendly texts in
hopes that he will come around. I really want him to come to the bonfire next

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Friday.
“I think I will pass . . . I’m looking at cars tomorrow, so I need my rest,” I half
lie. I really am going to look at cars tomorrow but I know I won’t be getting rest
sitting here alone with my thoughts about Noah’s uncertainty, about how Hardin
was obviously serious about staying away from me—which I’m really glad he’s
done. I just can’t shake him from my thoughts. I just need more time, I keep
telling myself.
But the way he acted like he wanted something from me the last time I saw
him, that got under my skin.
My thoughts drift off to a place where Hardin was pleasant and funny and we
got along. A place where we could date, really date, and he would take me out to
the movies or to dinner. He would put his arm around me and be proud that I was
his; he would drape his jacket over my shoulders if I was cold and kiss me good
night, promising me that he would see me tomorrow.
“Tessa?” Steph says and my thoughts disappear like a puff of smoke. They
weren’t reality and the boy in my daydream would never be Hardin.
“Oh come on, you’ve been wearing those fuzzy cloud pants all week,” Tristan
teases and I laugh. These pants are my favorite to wear to bed, especially when I
am sick, or going through a breakup, or two. I’m still confused about how
Hardin and I ended something that was nothing to begin with.
“Okay. Okay, but you need to drop me off right after dinner because I have to
get up early,” I warn.
Steph claps and jumps up and down. “Yay! Just please let me do you a favor?”
she asks with an innocent smile while she bats her lashes.
“What?” I whine, knowing she is up to no good.
“Let me give you a little makeover? Pleeeaassee!” She draws out the word for
dramatic purposes.
“No. Way.” I can picture myself with pink hair and pounds of eyeliner,
wearing only a bra for a shirt.
“Nothing too dramatic, I just want to make you look . . . like you haven’t been
hibernating in pajamas all week.” She smiles and Tristan tries to stifle his laugh.
And when I give in and say, “Fine,” she begins clapping again.

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chapter thirty-nine
A
fter Steph has plucked my eyebrows—a procedure that hurt worse than I ever
imagined—she turns me around and refuses to let me see myself until she’s done
putting on my makeup. I fight the nervous feeling in my stomach as she dusts
powder onto my face. I remind her over and over not to put too much makeup on
me, and she promises over and over that she won’t. She brushes my hair and
curls it before coating my hair and half of the room with hair spray.
“Makeup and hair: done! Let’s get you changed, and then you can see
yourself. I have a few things that will fit you.” She is obviously proud of her
work. I just hope that I don’t look like a clown. Following her to the closet, I try
to sneak a peek in her small mirror but she yanks me away.
“Here, put this on,” she says, pulling a black dress off a hanger. “Out, you!”
she shouts at Tristan, and he laughs but graciously leaves the room.
The dress is strapless and looks incredibly short. “I can’t wear this!”
“Fine . . . how about this one?” She pulls another black dress out. She must
have at least ten. This one looks longer than the last and has two thick straps.
The neckline worries me because it’s in the shape of a heart and my bust isn’t
small like hers.
When I take too long looking it over, she sighs. “Just try it, please?”
I oblige and take my comfortable pajamas off and fold them into a neat pile.
She rolls her eyes at me playfully and I smile while stepping into the dress. I pull
it up my body and it feels a little snug before it’s even zipped. Steph and I aren’t
that much different in size but she is taller and I’m curvier. The material has a

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slight shine to it and feels silky. The bottom of the dress reaches halfway down
my thigh. It isn’t as short as I thought it would be, but it is shorter than anything
I would ever wear. I feel almost naked with my legs this exposed. My fingers tug
at the material to try to pull it down a little.
“You want some tights?” she asks.
“Yeah, I just feel so . . . naked.” I laugh. She digs into her drawer and pulls out
two different pairs of tights. “These are plain black, and these have a lace print.”
Lace tights are just too much for me, especially given the fact that I probably
have ten pounds of makeup on. I grab the plain ones and slide them on my legs
while Steph digs through her closet for shoes.
“I can’t wear heels!” I remind her. I literally can’t; I waddle like an injured
penguin in them. “Well, I have low heels or wedges. Tessa, I’m sorry but your
Toms just won’t work with this dress.”
I scowl at her jokingly. I am perfectly fine wearing Toms every day. She pulls
out a pair of black heels with silver beading on the front, and I have to admit
they catch my eye. I could never wear them, but for once I wish I could.
“You like these?”
I nod. “Yeah, but I can’t pull them off,” I tell her and she frowns.
“Yes, you can, they strap around your ankle to prevent you from falling.”
“Is that what the strap is actually for?” I ask.
She laughs. “No, but it helps with that.” She laughs again. “Just try them.”
I sit on the bed and stretch my legs out, gesturing for her to put them on me.
She helps me stand up and I take a few steps. The straps really do help with
my balance.
“I can’t wait any longer! Look at yourself,” she says and opens the other
closet door. I look in the full-body mirror and gasp.