Page 45 of Love is Angry

“Might as well make yourselves comfortable,” she screeches, making me stifle a laugh.

“Why are you faking your voice?” I whisper once the door is locked again.

She gives me a startled look. “Why the fuck were you faking yours earlier? I was just following your lead.”

“Well, I just didn’t want them knowing it’s us. They might try to tug at your heart strings or something, convince you to let them in,” I reply.

One peek through the window gives me Cameron and Lindsey back on the sofa, eating crackers and drinking beer. They seem to be getting comfortable, even. Lindsey says something that makes him laugh. I don’t like him. He was too friendly with Madison. I tried to scare him off, but that didn’t last long, either. Then again, my recent methods have been absolutely terrible.

“If they think we’re other people, I know Lindsey definitely won’t insist.”

“Because I’m the only sucker with a heart soft enough to do her a favor and get myself screwed in the process? I don’t think so,” Madison shoots back. “The bitch stays out, whether she knows it’s me or not.”

“Then you were simply enjoying yourself while playing pretend, huh?” I chuckle.

She gives me a dry smirk. “Maybe. Pass me that beer.”

An hour later, we’re still by the window, hidden behind the curtain. I pull its edge back once in a while to look outside. There’s motion on the sofa but I’m not making out much. I can see the empty cans on the porch, though. They’ve gone through four beers already.

“What are they doing?” Madison asks, frowning as she checks her phone for the umpteenth time. The battery is low. Red low. “Dammit.”

“Checking the time every other minute will do that,” I tell her. “And it won’t make tonight go any faster, either.”

“You’re right. Hate to admit it, but you’re right,” she mumbles. “Maybe you’re right about other stuff too. We should give this truce a try. Hand me another beer, please.”

We’ve gone through twice as much as the frosted losers outside. I give Madison a can, then open one for myself.

We sip slowly, listening to the faint noises coming from outside. At first, it sounds like words. A muffled conversation happening beneath jackets and hoods and two blankets. Madison was kind enough to toss them a couple so they might cover themselves and not freeze out.

So far, there’s been no sign of the Acolytes, so Cameron and Lindsey have gotten relatively comfortable. Probably trying to get along and through the night, much like Madison and me.

“Do you regret coming out here?” Madison asks, eyeing me carefully.

I give her a shake of my head. “Nah. Beats other options, for sure. Cabin in the woods, fresh air, relatively cool beer and only partially stale cheese crackers. We’re good, believe me.”

“Likely because we made it here first,” she chuckles.

The beer is starting to work a little bit of its magic, fuzzing my brain a bit and working away some of the tension that was left in me.

“Where are we going with this, Rhue?” Madison voice breaks the silence we’d fallen into. I know she’s not talking about the hazing ritual. “Because it will never be the way it was. You know that, right?”

“I know that, yes. But at least for tonight I’d like us to be out of the red zone. Think I’ve got a shot in hell at that?”

“I don’t want to fight anymore,” Madison breathes, her gaze locked on mine. “But I don’t want to keep looking over my shoulder, either. I think we can just shake hands and part ways and call it quits right here. I will never bother you. And you will never bother me.”

I’m thinking it’s the beer, but somehow what she said doesn’t make me feel that much better. So much of my life recently has been focused on Madison. That focus might not have been positive, but it was still something to waste my time on. Someone to be angry at. Someone to hate. Someone to make hurt at least half as much as I was hurting. It’s hard to imagine what life will be like if we never interact again.

“Can you imagine how different this would be if we were actually friends? If––I don’t know––we’d never met before the beginning of the term?” I ask.

“I can,” she says and there’s so much sadness in her voice when she says it.

A part of me would give anything to pick at her thoughts right now. The other part of me doesn’t quite think I’d be up for the challenge.

I take another sip of my beer and allow more silence to settle in. This time, it’s not Madison who breaks it.

A whimper reverberates from the porch. Madison and I freeze as we begin to realize what is happening outside. The air becomes cluttered and unbreathable, as hot as though we were abandoned on the lip of an active volcano.

I slowly pull the lace curtain back, just in time to see Lindsey’s jeans and boots dumped on the floor. The blankets are spread on the sofa, the jackets bundled up as pillows.

---