I hate the shame coursing through me.

But not nearly as much as I hate the way he’s looking at me like I’m scum.

It’s not fair. He’s acting like he’s never had issues or taken pills before.

Unlike the shit he takes, I actually need this medication. My pills make everything better…not worse.

“Wow, that’s an awful lot of judgment coming from someone who’s not only hiding the fact he’s selling drugs from his best friends—but was so high out of his mind one night, he took advantage of their baby sister.”

It’s harsh and it’s wrong.

But I hate that the key to my happiness lies with him.

Oakley can cut me off whenever he wants and ruin everything.

I can’t let that happen.

I don’t ever want to be the fat girl again. Not when I’ve finally gotten everything I’ve ever wanted.

Oakley looks like I slapped him. “I didn’t…it was a mistake. She crawled into my bed—”

I loathe the next words out of my mouth…but they’re a very necessary evil. “Do you really think Jace and Cole will see it that way when they find out?”

He looks so betrayed I could cry.

God, I can’t stand myself.

“I might not be book smart like you, but I can smell blackmail from a mile away.” His shoulders slump. “What do you want?”

“One hundred should tie me over for the next month.”

His face screws up. “You’re kidding, right?”

“I don’t need your judgment, Oakley.”

“No, you don’t need these pills.” He palms his head. “This isn’t you.”

“You’re right. It’s not. And thank fucking God. Because that Sawyer was gross and—”

“No, she wasn’t.” His voice is filled with sadness. “She was my friend who would never blackmail me for drugs.” Digging inside his pocket, he whips out a pill bottle. “Here’s ten to help you with the withdrawals. Because after that…I’m done.”

Panic claws at my chest. “You can’t be serious.”

He points to the door. “Trust me, I am.”

He tries to walk away, but I side-step him. “Please, Oakley. Don’t do this. I need—”

“No, you don’t.”

My stomach rolls and I feel lightheaded. If he cuts me off, I’ll go back to being fat.

I’ll lose everything.

My body, my mother’s love…maybe even Cole.

My chest compresses as the room spins. “Please. I’ll do anything you want. Anything.”

I reach for his face, but he grabs my wrists. “Jesus Christ. What the fuck is wrong with you?”

I freeze, the realization of what I was about to offer hitting me square in the heart.

I can’t believe I almost…

God, I feel sick. So fucking sick.

“This isn’t you, Sawyer.”

He’s right.

“I’m sorry—”

“Don’t apologize to me,” he sneers. “Apologize to Cole. He’s the one who’s in love with a whore.”

I slap him. Hard.

“How dare you—”

“What else do you call someone who throws themselves at men in exchange for money or drugs?”

Oh, God. I can’t breathe.

“I wasn’t. I didn’t—” I can’t speak.

I’d never do that to Cole.

I love him. So much.

Finally, I find my voice. “I’m not a whore. I’d never fuck you for Adderall because I’m not some kind of worthless drug addict.” I glare at him. “I’m not you.”

I yelp when he yanks on my arm. “Funny, my mother swore she wasn’t a worthless drug addict, either.” He opens his front door. “Then she drained her husband’s bank account and fucked her dealer in front of her four-year-old son…right before she abandoned her family for good.”

A pang of sympathy strikes me. “Oak—”

“Get out.” He shoves me. “Come back when you’re Sawyer again.”

“I am Saw—”

“No, you’re not.”

Chapter 85

Cole

“You don’t like it?” Sawyer questions, biting her lip.

No. I fucking don’t.

The dress, the hair, the heels, the pound of makeup on her face…the contacts.

She looks nothing like the girl I fell in love with.

“It’s…okay,” I settle on. “I guess.”

I’m not trying to be a dick or hurt her, but I’m not gonna stand here and pretend I like her new look when I don’t.

Fortunately, the real Sawyer I fell in love with is still inside.

I hope.

“Do you want me to drive?”

“Nope.” She shoots me a frosty glare as she teeters down my driveway in her heels. “I’m good.”

“You’re mad at me.”

“Gee, you think?”

“I’m sorry if I hurt you—”

“It’s fine.”

Wrapping my hand around her wrist, I halt her. “You don’t need all that shit on your face or that tiny dress.” Inhaling sharply, I give her another dose of honesty. “And since we’re on the subject, I think you’re…whatever diet you’re on needs to stop.”

I’ve tried to be understanding, but I can’t anymore.

She looks like a completely different person.

Her curves are gone. Her ass is almost non-existent.

And don’t even get me started on her tits…what’s left of them.

However, I could deal with all that if she wasn’t always so exhausted and moody lately.

If she was still her cute, sarcastic, sassy, sweet self.

But she’s not.

It’s like I lost her more and more with every pound.

She might look skinnier…but she doesn’t look healthier.

If I didn’t know any better, I’d say she almost looks strung out.

Probably because she’s not eating enough.

Her eyes narrow to tiny slits. “You have a lot of nerve.” She pokes me in the chest with one of her pink talons. “You called me fat in front of the entire school, and now that I lost weight you—”

“I was wrong, Sawyer. I didn’t say it because I meant it. I said it because—”

“Because it was expected,” she says, her voice wavering. “The thing you had to say because I was put in the fat girl box.” She yanks her wrist back. “Fuck that box. And fuck you too if you no longer love me because you’re insecure with me finally being attractive.”

She’s got it all wrong. So fucking wrong.

“I never said I didn’t love you. And this isn’t insecurity…this is concern for your health. Huge difference.”

“Right.” Tossing her head back, she laughs. “My God, people never cease to amaze me. When I was fat all I heard was—” She makes air quotes with her fingers. “‘You should be concerned about your health.’ And now that I’m finally at a normal weight…I still get the same shit. Un-fucking-believable.”