Brook glares at me before putting her hand around Amelia’s shoulder and taking her out of the room. I want to call after her, but Diamond pulls me for my hand, trying to get my attention.
“Derek?”
Sanders looks at me, his stern gaze lowers to Diamond’s hand curled around my forearm, and he shakes his head in a criticizing, patronizing way. Then, he exits the room without uttering one word.
He’s probably going to look for Amelia, giving her a shoulder to lean on and tell her how big of a jerk Andrew and I are, while I’ll be stuck here dealing with this.
I look down at Diamond, putting my hand over hers to disengage her fingers from my skin. “We were here,” I take a step away from her. “Just hanging out. Andrew is still in the back if you want to join.”
“I was thinking we could hang out.” She smiles seductively at me. “Just the two of us.”
She’s wearing some kind of silky, hot pink, baby doll pajamas with shorts so small they barely cover her ass and a shirt cut so low I’m surprised her tits don’t fall out.
“I told you the other day, Diamond.” I sigh tired of this game she’s playing. “We are not going to,” I draw quotes in the air, “hang out. Not now, or ever again. Okay? What happened, happened. It was a one-time thing. I told you that already.”
Narrowing her eyes at me, I can almost see fumes coming out of her ears. She’s furious. She looks at the door where the girls were standing just a few short minutes ago before her lips press in even thinner line, all color draining from them.
I’m waiting for her to blow and start yelling or punching me or something, but nothing happens. No, when Diamond Morgan is furious she doesn’t become fire, she becomes ice. Cold. Calculating. Mean.
She takes a step forward, leaning into me without really touching me, but enough for her scent to flood my senses and for her breath to touch my skin as she whispers in my ear. “You are going to regret this. Next time I’m not going to be the one coming to you, Derek. It’ll be the other way around.”
Frozen in my spot, I watch her turn around and walk out of the room. “In your dreams, Morgan. In your dreams,” I mutter under my breath.
I give her a few minutes to go wherever she decided to go in search of her next victim.
When I’m sure she’s out of my way, I leave the library, closing the door firmly behind me. After all, Andrew and Jeanette are still inside. He may be one big idiot, but we have been friends far too long for bullshit like this.
I know exactly where I’ll find her and I’m right.
There are more students in the gym now, but it’s close to one in the morning so it isn’t really surprising. Some are still watching the movie, some formed smaller groups and are talking in hushed voices, and some are asleep.
I go to the corner where we left our stuff. Max is lying in his sleeping bag looking at the movie on the screen and Amelia moved her bag closer to Brook’s right against the wall. They are both lying on their sides, facing each other. I want to come closer, but as if she can sense it, Brook opens her eyes and shoots me an angry, warning stare.
Lifting my hands in surrender, I go back to my bag and sit down right next to Sanders. Who would have known how that happened, because we tend to stay as far away from each other as possible. Most likely it’s Brooks doing for messing with her friend.
It isn’t the best option, and it sure as hell doesn’t make us friends—I doubt anything could make us become friends—but it beats sitting all alone any day of the week. Even so, I’m starting to understand that even in the room full of people one can feel alone.
We are sitting like that for who knows how long—him watching the screen and me looking at nothing in particular, my mind blank of every thought.
“Nice way to screw up,” he mutters without even giving me the time of the day.
“Like I don’t know.”
Without anything else to say or do, I do the only reasonable thing—I go to sleep.
* * *
The next morning comes fast enough, and the teachers, lovely as they are, wake us up at the break of dawn and throw us out of the school. I guess they didn’t get the whole point of a sleepover is staying up late, doing stuff you shouldn’t do like eating too much junk food or drink too much alcohol, and then sleeping in the next day.
So, okay, maybe I’m exaggerating a little, but I had a shitty night. And besides, mornings simply aren’t my friend.
I’ve never been a morning person. I got used to it with years of early morning practices, but I still don’t like to wake up early. And I always need to have my coffee fix before dealing with other people.
Apart from my genetic discordance with the early hours of the day, I couldn’t fall asleep last night because every time I would close my eyes, I would feel her close to me. So close that if I tried hard enough I could touch her, and yet, at the same time so far away.
Hard floor beneath me, random snoring all over the room or soft light from the screen didn’t help me with my sleeping problem either, and I was left lying on the ground and thinking of all the stupid things I did in my life.
So when the teachers decide to wake us up, I’m in that dazed state between being awake and actually sleeping, which makes me even grumpier. Thankfully, most of the people are in the same position as me, so the room is mostly wrapped in silence, and only occasional murmurs breaking the peace and quiet.