The Butterfly Effect

Chapter 32

An hour had passed by when Jessica seized her phone as planned and said, "Sorry, guys, my mom's calling. I got to take it." Without waiting for a response, she fled out of the apartment.

After ten minutes three of them chatting, Harley coughed and made up an excuse, "I'm going to take the trash out to the chute." In a little rush, he scooped up the pizza box, grabbed his jacket on the coat rack and left.

A thick unsettling atmosphere descended over Ashley and Joey. Her hands fidgeted in her lap that ensued from perturbation she was feeling. Huge pressure of another awkward silence caused him to clear his throat then stood up.

Before he paced away, Ashley pushed herself up and called, "Joey, wait."

Joey stood still for a second then turned to her. "What?" he asked flatly.

"We need to talk."

"About what?" He shrugged offhandedly. "There's nothing to talk about."

"Yes, there is," she justified in an undertone. "About that night."

"What night?"

Ashley sighed heavily. "The night we slept together."

"What, are you pregnant or something?" Joey kidded.

Annoyance arose in her for seeing him playing dumb and not taking this seriously. "I hope not!"

His hand waved dismissively as he sniggered. "Then, come on, Ash, don't sweat it. You're not the only girl who slept in my bed."

Drawing in a sharp breath, her brows rucked in shock. A horrible pang surged in her heart to hear what he had just said. "What? You mean you took advantage of me?"

His finger pointed at her fleetingly, his joking face wearing off. "Hey, you threw yourself at me."

"You got me drunk!" Ashley asserted.

"It was your little game that I didn't even want to play in the first place."

"It wouldn't have happened if you didn't hit on me in the first place," she gnashed.

"Please," Joey scoffed, "basically, I didn't even know it was you."

Shaking her head in disbelief, she put one hand on her hip while the other hand pressed to her chest. "So, you blame me?"

"What, it was my fault, then?" he sneered.

Her balled up fists rose impatiently. "I was drunk!"

"So was I! What's your excuse?" he challenged, crossing his arms over his chest.

Ashley was quiescent, out of breath. He was infuriatingly unbelievable.

"Let me get this straight, okay?" Joey continued. "You came to the bar alone, you played drinking game with a guy who was 'hitting' on you and you let him take you back to your place. Can't you see?"

"See what?" she asked curtly.

"You were totally asking for a one-night stand!"

Her mouth gaped open. A searing, acidic feeling struck her hard. "What the fuck do you think I am, huh? A fucking slut?"

"Bet you've had another one of those nights since you're so good at luring guys into bed."

Feeling highly humiliated, Ashley snatched the throw pillows on the couch and attacked it at Joey with all strength she could find. Tears erupted from her eyes uncontrollably because she wasn't able to restrain it any longer. It was a very rude thing to say, as if she was cheap and desperate. But most of all, it coming from him made everything way more hurt like hell.

"I hate you, you asshole!" she yelled, weeping. "I'm not one of your fucking bimbos! Don't you ever talk to me again!"

"Sure thing," he approved shortly without even thinking it, like it was the easiest thing to do for him.

Meanwhile, something hefty thwacked her heart and she gasped. Now all she wanted to do was conk him vigorously right in the head and stay as far away as possible from him, so she wouldn't have to see him again forever. Whisking her birthday present for Joey out of her cardigan pocket, Ashley hurled it right at his face in resentment. Before darting out of the apartment and slamming the door, she sarcastically hissed, "You're welcome."

That was it. She couldn't do it anymore. And seriously, though, what had she expected from him, anyway? He was Joey Thompson, of course he'd had better sex with other girls than with her. That night must definitely mean nothing to him.

She shouldn't have done this. She shouldn't have fallen for him. She should've known that he would never care about her. She should've known that they were just not meant for each other. Everything was a terrible mistake.

It was time to forget him. Their little arguments, those butterflies in her stomach when his skin touched her, that feeling when she felt so safe in his arms. She would forget everything about him no matter how heart-pulverizing it was.

***

After throwing the pizza box down the trash chute downstairs, Harley had no idea where to go. Surely, he couldn't go back upstairs right now since Joey and Ashley were having a serious talk and he didn't want to interrupt. On top of that, he really needed fresh air after what felt like a few long weeks for him. But it brought relief to know that today was finally the end of fall semester.

Harley's flight home to Orlando was early in the morning and he felt like taking one last little stroll in New York before dropping Joey and Kirsten off at the airport in twenty minutes. Every shop had colorful, twinkling Christmas lights decorating their window while Christmas songs were tuning in for the gleeful Christmas shoppers.

Passing by a coffee shop not far from his apartment, Harley thought some hot tea would do to warm himself a bit. Ten minutes later, with three takeaway cups of hot tea in one hand, his other hand groped for his phone in his jacket pocket and tried to call Joey assuming he must probably be done with the talk with Ashley, but Joey didn't pick up the call. When the time showed it was 5:50 PM, he decided to just pick Kirsten up at her dormitory first. They should be leaving at 6:00 PM, tops.

After calling Kirsten to let her know that he was coming to her dormitory, Harley slipped his phone back into his pocket. As he arrived at the building, his feet came to a halt when realization whacked him right in the stomach. The last time he had been there was the time he had walked Scarlett home after the awarding day of photography contest. Sighing, he warded the memory off his mind and was about to push the front door when a familiar figure pulled the door open from inside that made his eyes widen.

***

(to be continued)