Page 9 of The Red Zone
OCTOBER
I tried catchingMae’s eyes from across the table, but she refused to look up from twirling her fork around her plate. No matter how hard she tried to shield her face behind her hair, camouflaging her misty eyes, there was no hiding the embarrassment rolling off of her.
As much as I enjoyed toying with the girl, I never wanted to be the reason behind her tears. Sure, we got snappy at each other sometimes, but it didn’t give me the right to go around purposely hurting her feelings.
If the roles were reversed and some dude acted like that toward my sister, I’d fucking kill them. No question.
That being said, I was fully capable of apologizing when needed.
While Abel and Scarlett mumbled quietly to each other next to us, I cleared my throat loud enough for only Mae to notice. She didn’t look up as I muttered across the table in a hushed tone, “I’m sorry for upsetting you.”
Her glossy eyes jumped to meet mine, pinning me with a pointed stare. “I don’t want your pity.”
“This isn’t that, and you know it.”
She didn’t relent her piercing gaze, but instead of letting her unsettle me, I leaned forward, placing both elbows on the table, matching her fixed look. I wasn’t a big enough asshole to make her cry, but I sure as shit wouldn’t let her poor attitude ruin everyone else’s night.
Mine included.
Mae and Scarlett had some sort of weird sisterly telepathy thing going on since we were kids, and I was doubtful I could break through. It wasn’t something I had with my sister, but maybe it was one of those girl things. You know, kind of like how they always travel in groups to the bathroom together.
Might as well try my hand at mental magic, anyway.
You’re acting like a brat.
Mae squinted at me from across the table, tightening the grip around her fork. My body temperature rose as I shot the same message to her once again. A few seconds passed, and I gave it one last shot, attempting to send my words down the telepathic line. Sure enough, Mae’s eyes widened, and a scoff escaped her lips as the silverware in her hands clattered against the table. “You didnotjust call me a brat!”
In my peripherals, I could see Scarlett and Abel’s heads whip toward us, but I didn’t dare avert my eyes in their direction. Blood pounded in my ears, but I remained focused, keeping my concentration locked on the girl in front of me, who looked like she was going to explode out of her seat.
See, the thing was, I wasn’t going to waver from Mae’s little stare down. At this point, an unexpected tsunami washing over us was about the only incident that would cause me to falter. Even then, I’d probably try to fight through it as long as possible.
I might’ve been new to this telepathic communication ordeal, but I would’ve bet twenty bucks I heard Mae shoot a message through the line calling me a conniving piece of shit.
I lifted a brow in question.
“Yes, you heard that right.” Her tone was scathing.
“You little—”
“Jesus Christ,” Scarlett cut me off before I had the chance to elaborate further. “This dinner is officially over.”
Huffing, Mae pushed back her chair, springing out of her seat as she picked up her plate. She brushed past Scar, storming into the house while the door slammed closed behind her. Now, Abel and I weren’t typically ones to share solidarity off the field, but the wide-eyed look we exchanged was the closest we’d gotten to friendship.
Shaking my head side to side, I pushed off the table and leaned across to grab the cup and utensils Mae had left behind, and stacked them on my plate. I trailed behind Scarlett and Abel as we silently ambled into the house. Upon entering the kitchen, the three of us stood there sharing a concerned look as we observed Mae pounding down the remaining white wine straight from the bottle.
Classic Mae-like dramatics.
Ignoring her, I headed over to the expansive kitchen sink and rinsed off our dishes before placing them in the washer.
Scarlett, who was putting away leftovers in the fridge, called over her shoulder to me. “October, can you grab the kiwi buns from the pantry? I’m going to make something really quick for you guys to take home.”
Hard to say no to a second dessert.
Obliging to her request, I gave her a nod before waltzing into the small pantry and perusing through all the labels.
That’s not it… nope, not it either.
I scanned through the entire pantry three times before slumping my shoulders and calling out to Scar, “I don’t see anything labeled as ‘kiwi buns’.”
