Page 35 of Puck with Karma
Noah is back with his own bag by the time I make my way out.
“Dude,” he assesses me up and down. “Where are you going in wet clothes like that? You’ll turn into a popsicle on the spot. And not the kind she’ll wanna lick,” he nudges his chin toward where Abby is standing, waiting for me.
I give him a healthy slap upside the head. “Watch how you talk.”
“I just meant that…”
“Watch it,” I growl at him again. He’s like a little kid. I know I’m maybe two years older than he is, but in this moment, that gap looks much wider.
He rolls his eyes at me before getting right to business.
“Did you change the sheets?”
“What sheets?” I shake my head, unsure of where he’s going with this.
“The sheets off the bed, man,” he clarifies. “I’m not about to sleep in your filth.”
My mouth drops open. “My filth? You can only wish you can be as cool as me one day.”
“Yeah, okay,” he rolls his eyes again. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
I turn to look at Abby, who has a hand over her mouth, making every effort not to laugh out loud.
“Stop doing that!” I point at her, but that only gets her going more. “Abby,” I warn her. “If you don’t stop laughing at this clown,” I am now pointing at Noah, “I’ll make you pay for it later.”
“Maybe she just thinks I’m funny,” the clown in question intervenes. “Have you thought of that? It’s not illegal to be funny.”
I stare him down, and a lesser man would’ve backed down. But he must be slow because nothing registers.
“It will be illegal once I beat all this funny stuff out of you.”
“You don’t have to beat it out of me, man,” he puffs his chest with pride. “I’ll be funny without it.”
“Jesus Christ.” I drop my head back and stare at the ceiling. “It’s like I’m talking to a damn sixth grader.”
“Are you jealous that I’m funny and you’re not?” he continues like I never said a word.
His words hit a bit too close to home, and he knows it when I squint my eyes at him.
“Oh shit!” He bends over and slaps a hand against his leg. “You are jealous!” He is laughing his head off. “Of me!” He almost has tears running down his face. “Xander Hamilton is jealous of me. I gotta tell somebody!”
When he looks like he is about to take his phone out, presumably to call his mother, I grab Abby by the hand and start walking toward the door.
“We’re out of here. Don’t set the place on fire,” I throw Noah’s way, but he’s not listening, still very much amused by the fact that I seem to be jealous.
The asshole is not even wrong, but I need some time to process it myself.
“What about your bag?” Abby pulls at my hand to get my attention. “With all the gear…” She points at my heavy practice bag.
“I’ll come back for it later,” I shrug. “Let’s go.”
She picks up her pace to keep up with me, and I don’t stop until we are in front of the elevator.
“We’re barefooted,” she comments as we wait. My eyes drop to the floor, loving the way her pretty toes stick out from underneath the material of her pants.
“So we are,” I nod in confirmation.
There’s a long moment of silence.
