Men hated that they couldn’t make her stay.
They hated themselves even more because they couldn’t resist her.
That’s a powerful combination.
My phone buzzes again, and I’m pretty sure that’s another text message.
“Sorry,” I say when she tilts her gaze down. “I probably need to check this. It must be from someone from school. Someone who wants to wish me a happy birthday.”
Her eyes instantaneously move to her wristwatch–it’s a bit late for congratulatory messages–but she says nothing.
“No problem.”
She flashes a smile.
“I’ll go back. You can stay here.”
I watch her step out of the room when a third message arrives.
I put the box down and sit on the bed, scanning the messages.
Mason: Where are you?
And then him again.
Mason: Gemma?
And then again.
Mason: I need to talk to you.
Man, he’s impatient.
I haven’t heard from him or Carter in a week, and now he’s all anxious to get me on the phone?
I ponder whether to text him back, and then I slide my phone back into my pocket and just ignore him.
GEMMA
I barely get back to the table, and my phone rings.
I swiftly mute the ringer and turn it off under the table.
It’s not like me to be mean, but now I realize I haven’t been too happy about not hearing from them the entire week.
Yeah, I thought I did all right.
I even lied to myself that I did, but some part of me wanted to hear from them.
If nothing else, I wanted to know they were okay. And him asking about me would’ve also been nice.
I’ll talk to him later.
For the next few minutes, I struggle to stay still and not check the time too often.
Regardless of my plans, people want to go home, and I do too, so a few minutes before midnight, we’re all heading to the door.
My aunt calls a cab for me, and I ask the driver to drop me off a block away from my place.