Page 35 of Wild Card

His chair swiveled in my direction. His greasy hair was tied back at his neck, and his eyes had dark circles under them. I already knew it was from a Dungeons and Dragons game that had gone too long the night prior.

“You totally bailed on the last story!”

I stood and hovered near his desk, wishing I didn’t have this stupid proximity issue so I could get in his face. “You took that story from me! It was well written, informative, and delivered a fantastic punch, but you didn’t run it. That was your choice. I’m not budging on this. If you don’t want the story then I’ll sell it. Either way”—I stood to my full height and turned on my heel—“I’m not turning in my fucking notes.”

I walked away, ignoring him calling my name from his little office. People flicked their curious gazes my way before dropping them back to their desks. Trevor got off on causing drama in this stupid class, and he especially loved messing with me; I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction today.

I held my chin high while I grabbed my things and left the room, heading straight for the student parking lot. I may have seemed confident in my departure and my defiance, but truthfully, I was just fucked.

I had no notes, not enough to write something worthy of being featured in the showcase. I’d only met with Decker that one time in the café, then I’d ignored the number he’d given me and hadn’t called or texted him since hearing about his little rage problem.

I knew it sucked to judge someone based on a rumor, but could I really risk my or Taylor’s safety on something like that? No, I couldn’t.

Then again…Juan had said he was cool, and I had no story and really needed one. When I considered how many random guys Taylor let into our house, were we ever really safe? I mean, any of those guys could and probably did have hang-ups or issues…who was to say Decker would ever let those issues manifest around me or Taylor? If she wasn’t even worried about her safety, I didn’t need to make such a big deal about him coming over…right?

Right.

Chapter Fourteen

I studiedthe blue ink for signs of deception. It gave me no indication whatsoever on the true intent behind being given to me. Decker had said to use it if I had questions about the article, but I’d have been lying if I said I hadn’t considered texting to ask about the rumors I’d heard. In fact, that first night after I heard about his nickname, I’d wanted to text and ask him about the whole thing. Surely there was another side to the story that I wasn’t getting.

Then I realized how weird that would have come across and decided it was better if I just ignored him and let this crazy idea of the story and of him and Taylor go, especially if he wanted more revenge on poor Elias. Hadn’t that guy gone through enough?

Then again…that was a rumor, and I didn’t even know Decker.

The more I thought about it, the more I considered Decker’s face when he realized I wasn’t Taylor that first night. He had an axe to grind with Elias, and that had to come from somewhere…unless Decker was truly mentally unhinged. But, I’d been around him, and I hadn’t caught any signs that he was on medication or struggling with his mental health. I wanted to give him a chance; he deserved to explain himself, and if he was telling the truth then I’d just feel like a bitch if I didn’t at least give him that.

Letting out a heavy sigh, I turned over and pulled the pillow over my face. I’d been running through the little meeting I’d had with Decker all morning and was no closer to gleaning anything new whatsoever about the man. Sure, he had made it clear that he wanted a shot with Taylor, but he just didn’t seem like her type. No, in fact, the other guy who’d walked in, Elias—he looked like the kind of guy she’d go for: tousled blond hair, creamy and freckled complexion, and well over the average height. That and the expensive-as-hell brands he was wearing—yeah, Taylor would definitely go for him.

With that on my mind, I crawled out of bed and headed for the living room. Taylor was thankfully already out there, and was she doing homework? I’d never seen her actually work on homework before, and I was tempted to pull out my phone and snap a picture.

“Hey.” I walked to the sofa and sat down. The television pinged on after I grabbed for the remote. I flicked through channels as I waited for Taylor to reply. She never did, so I just kept going. “Are you going to be around for a little bit?” I asked, biting down on my nail. I was about as subtle as an elephant.

Taylor’s head finally rose, her gaze finding mine. “I guess. Why?”

“No reason. I have this friend who was going to come over, but I wanted to be sure it was okay with you first.” I clicked up a few more channels despite the fact that we only actually got about five.

I needed to turn on Netflix before she noticed I was acting weird.

“I can leave if you want,” she offered in a cautious tone. She was always worried that I wouldn’t want her there when my friends came over. The other day when Juan and Hillary had come over, it was only Juan who’d been able to convince her to watch a few episodes with us before she finally went to her room. It was progress.

“No, actually he asked if you’d be here. I think he might hate you or something.” If I said he was into her, she’d run for the hills, but saying someone hated her always piqued her interest.

“Seriously?” Her laugh came out more like a snort, and I knew I’d won.

The first official playdate was on.

“Yeah, no idea why,” I said, not looking her direction.

“Tell him to come over.” She propped her elbows on either side of the chair, lifting her chin.

I pulled out my phone and ignored the tremble in my fingers as I pulled up his number.

Me: Hey, this is Mallory. Want to come over for your first official playdate?

I set the phone down, waiting, and thankfully only a few seconds went by before he responded.

Decker: Thought you were done talking to me.

---