Page 10 of The Captain

“I was…” Lincoln seemed hesitant, his boyish face now completely red, and I know that what he’s about to say is going to piss me off.

“Spit it out, Ellis,” I snapped, not wanting to draw this out any longer.

“I was intimate with the TA.”

I bit my tongue hard enough to taste blood, my face flushed, and I suddenly felt overheated in my hoodie. Of course he did.

Of fucking course.

I snorted, disgusted, and shook my head. “I shouldn’t be surprised, should I?”

Anger flashed in his eyes. “I don’t sleep with everyone.”

“No? Really?” I asked sarcastically.

“No,” he answered hotly, his own anger taking control. “I’m not some fucking man whore that sleeps with everything that moves, this just happened to be a coincidence.”

I rolled my eyes and started to put away my things. This was the most unproductive get-together. I couldn’t believe I thought we could do this, but we can’t, we just can’t.

“Where are you going?”

“Nowhere,” I answered, tucking my arms into a crossed position. “I just should have known this was the reason you were ‘flunking.’” I used air quotes and…well, pissed him off some more.

But I don’t care. I don’t care about his feelings, not when he uses girls’ feelings and gets sex out of it, not caring a bit about the consequences of his actions.

“Fuck this,” he gritted out, tucking away his work. His food is long gone, his plates stacked neatly on top of the other, and I would appreciate that he was trying to make less work for Marie, but I can’t. “I knew we couldn’t fucking work together; you can’t get your head out of the clouds enough to realize that this is the reality we live in, and it’s not so bad if you give people a chance.”

“What are you talking about?” I snapped defensively.

He stood and leaned over my side of the booth. “I remember your book obsession. You think that men in this world should live up to the fantasy of your fictional heroes. That’s not how it works.”

I snorted. “Please. I would never hold such a standard for the likes of you.”

His eyes flashed, and he grabbed his backpack, flinging it over his shoulder. I watched him take out his wallet and throw down enough cash for all our food plus a tip, and start to march out of the diner.

He stopped a few booths down and turned back to me. “Come on.”

I blinked. “What?”

Our anger was palpable, and I could feel people looking at me. I was thankful that Marie wasn’t around to see our interaction because I would have been sublimely embarrassed about this whole thing.

“I gave you a ride.”

“I can get home.” I would have to just wait for Marie to get done, or Bobby, and they would take me back to my place.

I saw his fist clench, and he marched back over to me. “I’m taking you home.”

“No,” I stated, thinking that getting in a car with him right then would be the worst kind of torture.

“Yes.”

I looked up at him in surprise and scoffed. “You don’t get to tell me what to do, Ellis.”

“Are you fucking serious?” He raised an eyebrow. “I offer to do something nice, and you hate me. I’m a dick, and you hate me. I beg for your help, and you hate me. What the fuck do I have to do to get you to not hate me?”

His fist is over his chest, the muscles in his arm flex with every word, and for a split second, I saw defeat written all over his face, and I felt…bad.

“Whatever,” he finally said, then started to walk out of the diner. I don’t know what persuades me to do it, but I grabbed my bag and took off after him.

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