Page 53 of The Assist
She stands, clearly the interrogation has gone beyond her comfort level because we’re talking about her feelings, and V doesn’t do feelings. “Why would I do that?”
After she leaves, I spend the next three hours in the library and then hustle over to the café to relieve Katrina. She’s beyond frazzled and knee-deep in supplies as she restocks everything.
“Everything okay?”
“My sitter just bailed, and I have to pick up Christian at daycare in ten minutes.”
“Go. I have this.”
She looks around at the mess, hesitating. I know she’d do the same for me in a heartbeat, so I place my hands on my hips and smile. “Seriously, go. It’s no big deal.”
“I owe you,” Katrina says, hopping over the box and untying her apron.
Monday afternoons are slow after the lunch rush, but Monday evenings are not, so I enjoy a bit of down time stocking shelves and singing along to the cheesy nineties’ music playing over the university station.
My mood is high until David walks through the door. His demeanor makes it clear he’s here to see me and knew he could catch me alone. I hate the way my body responds like it’s a fight or flight moment. I desperately want to be emotionally detached enough for his presence not to send me into panic mode.
“What do you want, David? I’m at work.”
“Tall house blend.” Black like his soul. “And put one of those inspirational quotes on there for me, would you?” He has the audacity to wink.
I remind myself that killing him would only get me thrown in jail while I get his coffee and write “Choose kindness” onto the cup. “Here ya go.”
He looks down at the quote and smiles.
“You’re banging the basketball team now, huh?”
Arizona has the death penalty.
Arizona has the death penalty.
“My life isn’t your business anymore, David.”
“Oh, but it is. Especially if it interferes with our arrangement.”
“I’ve done everything you’ve asked.”
“That bullshit paper you wrote on Chopin got me a B. You’re distracted, and it’s fucking up my GPA.”
“I’m distracted because I’m doing two people’s homework.”
“I need this one on Friday.” He slides me a piece of paper with the details. David’s been careful to leave no electronic paper trail. Only paper copies that we both know would easily be dismissed if I ever went to anyone and tried to tell them what was going on. “It better be an A paper, Blair. I’d hate to have to embarrass you in front of your new boyfriend.”
The thought of Wes knowing about any of this makes the muffin I ate fifteen minutes ago feel like a brick in my stomach. Trapped and angry, I watch him walk out of the café and vow to end this somehow, someway.
21
Wes
Blairand I sit on the floor of the gym while we wait for Z and Joel so we can all study for our next statistics quiz.
"You play over Thanksgiving break?" she asks, clearly surprised by this revelation that we have a tournament the weekend after Turkey Day.
"Yep, it's one of our busiest times. With no school, we get to focus solely on ball. Christmas break is the same."
"So, you don't get to see your family?"
I shake my head but don’t meet her eyes as I say, "We get a full week off for Christmas. I'll see them then. I usually go to Joel's house for Thanksgiving. Mama Moreno invites the whole team and anyone else who doesn't have anywhere to go."
