Page 12 of The Games We Play

My knee bounces, shaking my entire car. I smirk and bite on the edge of my bottom lip. This is such a bad idea. “Will I see you tonight?”

“Do youwantto see me tonight?”

“Yes,” I breathe out without a moment of hesitation. God, I feel like desperation and low self-esteem.

The phone clicks off, and my screen lights up. “Hello?” But he’s already hung up. I scoff and toss my phone onto the passenger seat. “Rude.”

***

My shift at thediner felt like it went on for hours. I spilled hot coffee down the front of my uniform with an hour left. The credit card machine stopped working, and the customers acted as if it was my fault.

I groan as the hot water cascades down my tight muscles. I’ve been on edge since the phone call earlier today. Not to mention, I got a nice email from Professor Brady telling me my retake would be this weekend in his office,alone. I swear if the fucker tries touching me, I’m stapling the skin between his thumb and forefinger to the wall.

I wrap a towel around my body and step out of the shower. After wiping the steam from the mirror, I check my phone—no texts from my masked man. A couple from Ryan asking why I’m ignoring him and I swipe those away. Not five minutes later, he’s calling me, and I groan as I answer, not wanting to risk him coming over and ruining the good time I have planned for tonight.

“What?” I snap.

“Why are you ignoring me? What happened with Professor Brady?” His tone is filled with worry.

“You are what happened. Thinking with your dick and getting into a fight with Seth. He claims I cheated off his test to get back at me, and now I have to retake the exam.”

“I’m going to kill--”

“No,” I cut him off. “You’re not going to do anything. I’m going to retake it tomorrow.”

With fifty extra questions.

“You can’t seriously be mad at me, Tess. I was protecting you. He was going to--”

“I know exactly what he was going to do, and I wanted it, Ryan. You aren’t my boyfriend. Stop acting like one.”

I pinch the bridge of my nose and mentally curse myself for saying. “I’m sorry…I just--”

“Fuck whoever you want. Get chopped up into a million pieces. Get so high you can’t function. I’m tired of trying to look after you all the time.”

He hangs up, and I scream, throwing my phone onto my bed.

Why does he fucking care so much about what happens to me? I’m not worth it. He’d be better off cutting ties and moving on. I’m a parasite, leeching and draining the life of everything I touch. I just drag everyone down with me.

Ripping open my vanity drawer, the contents slide from the momentum, and I grab the pack of cigarettes. I pluck the hidden joint from the box and light it up, inhaling the smoke into my lungs. I want to stop feeling all of this. It’s all too much. Being a disappointment, letting Ryan down, and him hating me. My dad had to move to a different country and start a new family because he couldn’t stand being around here with me as a reminder of what he lost.

No matter how many times people tell you it’s not your fault or you couldn’t have done anything, it doesn’t change the fact that it happened. I take another drag and snuff it out in the ashtray.

It’s after ten, and I wonder how long until I get to lose myself tonight. Death stopped scaring me months ago. As they say,if I die tonight, at least I’ll die doing something I love…fucking.

A knock comes from the front door, and Roxy lets out a sharp bark. I smirk and glance at myself in the mirror. My hair hangs down below my breasts, dripping water onto the floor. There isn’t any secret about what will happen tonight, so I drop the towel and shove thoughts of shyness down until they don’t exist.

That’s the other scary thing about me. I can differentiate who I am when I turn off my emotions. It’s what makes me so good at pretending to be someone I’m not.

Opening the front door, I stand naked as the day I was born, with no reservations about what I’m about to do. Maybe he’ll show himself to me tonight, right before he takes my life. At least then, I won’t be a burden or someone people need to worry about anymore.

Seven - Tess

The autumn breeze hitsmy skin, and my nipples pebble immediately. I draw my gaze up from the Vans standing on my porch. I frown. I preferred the boots. His jeans aren’t filled out like they were the night in the woods, either.

Trick of the light,maybe? I mean, I was running for my life. Can I really trust my memory? I had drunk…a lot.

I take a step back when I reach for his T-shirt that isn’t hugging refined, toned muscle.

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