After (The After Series)

Oh, nothing, just that I am finally admitting to myself that I have feelings for
you and want more from you, yet know you will never care about anyone,
especially me.
“Just trying to figure out what to wear,” I lie.
His eyes move down to the clothes in my hands, and he tilts his head but only
says, “So, can I come? It will be easier for you, anyway—so you don’t have to
take the bus.”
Well, it might be fun. And it would be easier. “Yeah, okay,” I say. “Just let me
get ready.” I walk toward the door and he follows me.
“What are you doing?” I ask him.
“Coming with you.”
“Um, I’m going to take a shower.” I dangle my toiletry bag in front of him and
he snatches it from me.
“What a coincidence—me, too!”
Damn coed bathrooms. He walks past me and opens the door without looking
back. I rush to catch up with him and grab hold of his shirt.
“Nice of you to join me,” he jokes and I roll my eyes.

---

“We haven’t even begun the day and you’re already annoying me,” I tease
back.
A group of girls walks by us and into the bathrooms; they don’t even try to be
subtle about staring at Hardin.
“Ladies,” Hardin greets them, and they giggle like schoolgirls. Well,
technically they are schoolgirls, but they are also adults, so they should act like
it.

---

chapter forty-four
A
fter a stop to use the toilet, I come out and don’t see or hear Hardin in the
showers, so my mind of course starts worrying that he went off somewhere with
those girls. He didn’t even bring any clothes with him, so if he does shower, he
would just be putting on dirty clothes. Hardin could wear clothes matted with
mud and still look better than any guy I have ever seen. Except Noah, I remind
myself.
After a quick shower, I dry off and pull my clothes on and make my way back
to my room, where I’m relieved to find Hardin sitting on my bed. Take that,
schoolgirls, part of me yells. He is shirtless and the water has made his dark hair
blacker yet. I close my mouth to make sure my tongue isn’t hanging out.
“Took you long enough,” he says and leans back. His muscles constrict as he
lifts his arms behind his head to brace him against the wall.
“You’re supposed to be nice to me, remember,” I say and walk over to Steph’s
closet and open the door to use the mirror. Grabbing Steph’s makeup bag, I sit
myself down and cross my legs in front of it.
“This is me being nice.”
I stay quiet as I try to apply a little makeup. After three attempts of making a
straight line on my top eyelid, I chuck the eyeliner at the mirror and Hardin
laughs.
“You don’t need that, anyway,” he tells me.
“I like it,” I say, and he rolls his eyes.
“Fine, we can just sit here all day while you try to color on your face,” he

---

says. So much for nice Hardin.
He catches himself and gives me a quick, “Sorry, sorry,” while I wipe my eyes
off. But I give up the makeup routine. It’s a little hard to do with someone like
Hardin watching me.
“I’m ready,” I tell him and he jumps up. “Are you going to put a shirt on?” I
ask him.
“Yeah, I have one in my trunk.”
I was right: he must have an endless supply in there. I don’t want to think
about the reasons behind that.
TRUE TO HIS WORD,
Hardin pulls a plain black T-shirt out of his trunk and
finishes getting dressed in the parking lot.
“Stop staring and get in the car,” he teases me. I stutter a denial and oblige.
“I like you in the white shirts,” I say when we’re both inside, the words just
popping out before I can process them.
Cocking his head sideways, he gives me a smug grin. “Is that so?” He raises
his eyebrow. “Well, I like you in those jeans. They show off your ass
wonderfully,” he says and my mouth drops. Hardin and his dirty words.
I swat at him playfully and he laughs, but I mentally pat myself on the back
for wearing these pants. I want Hardin to look at me even though I would never
admit it, and I am flattered by his strange way of complimenting me.
“So where to?” he asks, and I pull out my phone. I read him the list of used-
car dealers within a five-mile radius and tell him about a few of the reviews on
each.
“You plan things way too much. We aren’t going to any of those places.”
“Yes, we are. I already have this planned; there is a Prius that I want to see at
Bob’s Super Cars,” I tell him and cringe at the cheesy name.
“A Prius?” he says in disgust.
“Yeah? They have the best gas mileage and they are safe and—”
“Boring. I knew somehow you would want a Prius. You just scream, ‘Lady
with a planner in her Prius!’ ” he says in a fake woman’s voice and then cackles.
“Tease me all you want but I will save hundreds on gas every year,” I remind
him, laughing, when he leans over and pokes my cheek. I look over at him,
shocked by his doing such a small but adorable thing; he looks as surprised at
what he did as I do.
“You’re cute sometimes,” he tells me.
I look forward again. “Gee, thanks.”
“I mean that in a nice way, like sometimes you do cute things,” he mutters.

---

The words seem uncomfortable on his tongue and I know he isn’t used to saying
things like this.
“Okay . . .” I say and look out the side window.
Every second I spend with Hardin increases my feelings for him, and I know
it’s dangerous for me to allow these small, seemingly meaningless moments to
occur, but I don’t have control of myself when Hardin is involved. I become
merely a passerby in this storm.
HARDIN ENDS UP DRIVING TO BOB’S,
and I thank him. Bob ends up being
a short, sweaty, and overgelled man who smells like nicotine and leather and
whose smile is punctuated with a gold tooth. While he talks to me, Hardin stands
nearby, making faces when he isn’t looking. The little man seems to be
intimidated by Hardin’s harsh appearance, but I don’t blame him. I take one look
at the condition of the used Prius and decide against it. I have a feeling the
moment I drove off the lot it would have broken down, and Bob has a strict no-
return policy.
We visit a few more lots and they are all equally as trashy. After a morning of
countless balding men, I decide to suspend my search for a car. I will have to go
farther away from campus for a decent car and I just don’t feel like it today. We
decide to get some lunch at a drive-through, and while we eat in the car Hardin
surprisingly tells me a story about when Zed got arrested for puking all over the
floor of a Wendy’s last year. The day is going better than I could have imagined,
and for once I feel like we could both make it through this semester without
killing each other.
On our way back to campus, we pass a cute little frozen yogurt bar and I beg
Hardin to stop. He groans and acts like he doesn’t want to, but I see the hint of a
smile hiding behind his sour features. Hardin tells me to find a spot and he goes
and gets our yogurt for us, piling on every candy and cookie imaginable. It looks
disgusting, but he convinces me it’s the only way to get your money’s worth. As
gross as it looks, it’s delicious. I can’t even finish half of mine, but Hardin
happily clears his cup and the remainder of mine.
“Hardin?” a man’s voice says.
Hardin’s head snaps up and his eyes narrow. Was that an accent I heard? The
stranger is holding a bag and a drink carrier full of yogurt cups.
“Um . . . hey,” Hardin says, and I know instinctively that this is his father. The
man is tall and lean, like Hardin, and has the same-shaped eyes, only his are a
deep brown instead of green. Other than that, they are polar opposites. His father
is wearing gray dress pants and a sweater vest. His brown hair has some gray

---

scattered on its sides and his demeanor is coldly professional. Until he smiles,
that is, and shows a warmth similar to Hardin’s, when he isn’t putting so much
effort into being a jerk.
“Hi, I’m Tessa,” I politely say and reach my hand out. Hardin glares at me but
I ignore him. It’s not like he was going to introduce me.
“Hello, Tessa. I am Ken, Hardin’s father,” he says and shakes my hand.
“Hardin, you never told me you had a girlfriend—you two should come over
for dinner tonight. Karen will make a nice meal for everyone. She’s an excellent
cook.”
I want to keep Hardin’s anger in check and tell his father that I’m not his
girlfriend, but Hardin speaks first.
“We can’t tonight. I have a party to go to and she doesn’t want to come,” he
snaps. A gasp escapes my lips at the way Hardin speaks to his father. Ken’s face
drops and I feel terrible for him.
“Actually, I would love to. I’m also a friend of Landon; we have classes
together,” I interject, and Ken’s friendly smile reappears.
“You are? Well, that is great. Landon is a nice kid. I would be happy to have
you over tonight,” Ken says and I smile.
I feel Hardin’s eyes blazing at me as I ask, “What time should we be there?”
“ ‘We’?” his father asks and I nod. “Okay . . . let’s do seven. I need to give
Karen a bit of a warning or she will have my head,” he jokes and I smile. Hardin
stares angrily out the glass wall.
“Sounds great! We’ll see you tonight!”
He says goodbye to Hardin, who rudely ignores him despite me kicking his
foot under the table. A minute after his dad leaves the store, Hardin stands
abruptly and slams his chair into the table. It topples over and he kicks it partway
across the room before rushing out the door and leaving me alone to deal with
everyone’s stares. Not sure what to do, I leave my yogurt where it is, stammer an
apology under my breath, and clumsily upright the chair before running out after
him.

---

chapter forty-five
I
call out Hardin’s name, but he ignores me. When he gets halfway to the car, he
spins around so quickly that I almost crash into him.
“What the hell, Tessa! What the fuck was that?” he screams at me. People
walking by start to stare, but he continues. “What kind of game are you trying to
play here?” He moves toward me. He is angry—beyond angry.
“There’s no game here, Hardin—didn’t you see how much he wanted you to
come over? He was trying to reach out to you, and you were so disrespectful!”
I’m really not sure why I’m yelling, but I’m not going to just let him shout at
me.
“Reach out to me? Are you fucking kidding me? Maybe he should have
reached out to me back when he was abandoning his family!” The veins in his
neck strain under his skin.
“Stop swearing at me! Maybe he is trying to make up for lost time! People
make mistakes, Hardin, and he obviously cares about you. He has that room for
you at his house, full of clothes just in case—”
“You don’t know shit about him, Tessa!” he screams and shudders with anger.
“He lives in a fucking mansion with his new family while my mum works her
ass off, fifty hours a week to pay her bills! So don’t try to lecture me—mind
your own damn business!”
He gets in the car, slamming his door closed. I scramble in, afraid that he
might leave me here, he’s so mad. So much for our argument-free day.
He’s fuming mad but thankfully silent as we pull onto the main road. If I

---

could keep it this quiet the rest of the ride, I’d be happy. But part of me insists
that Hardin needs to understand that I will not be yelled at; that is one redeeming
quality I give my mother credit for. She showed me exactly how not to be treated
by a man.
“Fine,” I say, feigning calm. “I will mind my own business, but I’m accepting
the invitation to dinner tonight whether you go or not.”
Like a wild animal who’s been riled up, he turns in my direction. “Oh no
you’re not!”
Retaining my fake calm, I say, “You have no say in what I do, Hardin, and in
case you didn’t notice, I was invited. Maybe I should see if Zed wants to join
me?”
“What did you just say!?” The dirt and dust start flying all over as Hardin
jerks the steering wheel and pulls onto the shoulder of the busy road.
I know I pushed him too far, but I really am just as angry as he is by this point
and yell, “What the hell is wrong with you? Pulling off the road like this!”
“What the hell is wrong with you is the question! You tell my dad I will go to
his house for dinner, then you have the audacity to mention bringing Zed?”
“Oh, yeah, sorry, your cool friends don’t know that Landon is your stepbrother
and you’re afraid they will find out?” I say and laugh at how ridiculous he is.
“He is not my stepbrother, for one. And two, you know that isn’t why I don’t
want Zed there.” His voice is much lower now, yet still thick with anger.
But through the chaos in the car, that bubble of hope grows again at Hardin’s
jealousy. I know his feelings are more of a competition thing than actual concern
over my being with him, but it still makes my stomach flutter.
“Well, if you won’t go with me, I will have to invite him.” I would never
actually do it, but Hardin doesn’t know that.
Hardin stares straight out onto the street for a few seconds and then sighs,
deflating some of the tension. “Tessa, I really don’t want to go. I don’t want to
sit around with my dad’s perfect family. I avoid them for a reason.”
I lighten my tone as well. “Well, I don’t want to force you to go if it will hurt
you, but I would really like if you could come with me. I am going either way.”
We went from eating yogurt to screaming at each other and now we are calm
again. My head is spinning at least as much as my heart.
“Hurt me?” He sounds incredulous.
“Yeah, if it will bother you that much to be there, I won’t try to make you
come,” I answer. I know that I could never make Hardin do anything he doesn’t
want to do; he has no history of ever being cooperative.
“Why would you care if it hurt me?” His eyes meet mine and I try to look
away, but once again I am under his spell.

---

“Of course I would care; why wouldn’t I?”
“Why would you is the question.”
The look in his eyes is a pleading one, like he wants me to say the words, but I
can’t. He will use them against me and then probably never want to hang out
with me again. I will become the annoying girl who likes him, the kind of girls
Steph told me about.
“I care about how you feel,” I say and I hope this answer can be good enough
for him.
Interrupting our moment in the car, my phone rings. I pull it out of my purse
and see it’s Noah. Without thinking, I hit ignore before I realize what I’m doing.
“Who is it?” Hardin is so nosy.
“Noah.”
“You’re not going to answer?” He looks surprised.
“No, we’re talking.” And I would rather talk to you, my subconscious adds.
“Oh” is all he says, but his smile is evident.
“So are you going to come with me? It’s been a while since I’ve had a home-
cooked meal, so I am not passing it up.” I smile; the mood in the car is lighter
but tense all the same.
“No. I have plans, anyway,” he mutters. I don’t want to know if those plans
involve Molly.
“Oh, okay. Are you going to be mad at me if I go?” It’s sort of strange for me
to just go to Hardin’s father’s house, but Landon is my friend, too, and I was
invited.
“I’m always mad at you, Tess,” he says, amusement in his eyes when he looks
over at me.
I laugh. “I’m always mad at you, too,” I tell him and he chuckles.
“Can we go back now? If a cop comes along, we’ll get a ticket.”
He nods, putting the car into drive and pulling back onto the road. The fight
with Hardin blew over more quickly than I expected. I suppose he’s much more
used to constant conflict than I am; I would much rather spend time with him
without fighting.
I promised myself that I wouldn’t ask but I have to know . . . “So, what are
your . . . um . . . plans today?”
“Why are you asking?” I can feel his eyes on me but I stare out the window.
“I’m just wondering, you said you had plans anyway so I was just
wondering.”
“We have a party again. That is basically what I do every Friday and Saturday,
except last night and last Saturday . . .”
I trace a circle on the window with one finger. “Doesn’t it get old? Just doing

---

the same thing every weekend with the same drunk people?” I hope that doesn’t
offend him.
“Yeah . . . I guess it does. But we’re in college, and I’m in a fraternity; what
else is there to do?”
“I don’t know . . . it just seems tedious, to clean up everyone’s mess, every
weekend especially when you don’t even drink.”
“It is, but I haven’t found anything better to do with my time so—” He stops. I
know he is still looking at me, but I keep my eyes away from him.
The rest of the drive is quiet. Not awkward, just quiet.
WALKING ALONE
from the lot to my dorm, I’m flustered. My emotions are in
overdrive. I just spent the night and most of the afternoon with Hardin and we
got along, mostly. It was actually fun, a lot of fun. Why can’t I have a great time
like that with someone who actually likes me? Like Noah. I know I should call
him back, but I want to revel in the way I feel right now.
When I get back to my room, I’m surprised to see Steph there; she usually
stays gone all weekend.
“Where have you been, young lady?” she teases and shoves a handful of
cheese popcorn into her mouth.
I laugh and take my shoes off before plopping onto the bed. “I was looking for
a car.”
“Find one?” she asks, and I dive into telling her about the run-down lots I
visited, leaving out Hardin’s involvement in the afternoon. After a few minutes,
there’s a knock at the door and Steph gets up to answer.
“What are you doing here, Hardin?” she growls.
Hardin. I glance up nervously and he walks over to my bed. He has his hands
in his pockets and he rocks back on his heels.
“Did I forget something in your car?” I ask, and hear Steph gasp. I will have
to explain to her later, though I’m not sure how we ended up hanging out, either.
“Ermm . . . no. Um, well, I thought maybe I could drive you to my dad’s
house tonight. You know, since you didn’t find a car,” he spits out, not seeming
to notice or care that Steph is standing in the room with her jaw practically on
the floor. “If not . . . that’s okay, too. I just thought I would offer.”
I sit up and he pulls his lip ring between his teeth. I love when he does that. I
am so surprised by his offer, I almost forget to actually answer him. “Yeah . . .
that would be great. Thank you.”
I smile and he smiles back, warm and seemingly relieved. He pulls one hand
out of his pocket and sweeps it through his hair before stuffing it back in.

---

“Okay . . . I’ll come by about six thirty, so you can get there on time.”
“Thank you, Hardin.”
“Tessa,” he says calmly and walks out the door, pulling it shut behind him.
“What the hell was that?!” Steph squeals.
“I don’t know, actually,” I admit. As soon as I think Hardin could not get more
confusing, he does something like this.
“I cannot believe that just happened! I mean, Hardin . . . the way he came in
here, like he was nervous or something! Oh my God! And he offered to drive
you to his dad’s . . . Wait, why are you going to his dad’s house? And you
thought you left something in his car? How do I miss so much! I need details!”
She practically shouts and bounds onto the foot of my bed.
So I go through the whole thing, explaining to her how he showed up here last
night and we watched a movie and he fell asleep, how we went to look at cars
today—and how I didn’t mention him being there before because I figured that if
I insisted she help me keep him away, it would feel odd to admit I’d hung out
with him. I don’t say much about his dad except that I am going there for dinner,
but she seems more interested in last night anyway.
“I can’t believe he stayed here—that is a huge deal. Like Hardin doesn’t just
stay places, ever. And he never lets anyone stay with him. I heard he has
nightmares or something, I don’t know. But seriously—what have you done to
him? I wish I would have recorded the way he looked when he just came here!”
she yells and laughs. “I still don’t think this is a good idea, but you do seem to
handle him better than most. Just be careful,” she warns again.