Page 14 of Uncharted Desires
“Sup, bud?” Sawyer’s voice echoes in my brain as he shakes Xander’s hand. “How’s the football practice going?”
Did he—? Did he just ignore me?
I snap my eyes to Sawyer’s, which are still hidden behind his sunglasses. But he’s clearly facing Xander, who’s now telling him about his weekend.
Am I fucking invisible? After everything that went down, I don’t even get aHello?
I open my mouth to ask something to that effect when commotion cuts me off as the professor enters the classroom and the student body follows suit.
It takes me a second to get my shit together, and as I scramble off the wall I’ve been leaning against, Xander is already on the move and I’m shoulder-to-shoulder with Sawyer. And then, the motherfucker adjusts his backpack, hitting me with it in the process, and walks away without as much as a glance in my direction.
My blood boils and the tips of my ears burn. That fucking asshole!
Fuming, I make my way inside, flop on my usual chair, cross my arms over my chest, and spend the entire lecture burning a hole in the back of Sawyer’s head a few rows in front of me.
And he doesn’t look back once.
By the time the professor wraps up the lecture, the subject of which didn’t even register with me—yay for coming back to classes—I’m ready to commit a crime.
As everyone starts to leave, I make sure Xander isn’t within earshot, make the short walk over to where Sawyer is packing up his books, and slam my notebook on his desk.
He makes a theatric of slowly lifting his gaze until our eyes meet. “May I help you?”
I swear I had a plan.
I’ve spent the whole lecture preparing a scenario of me telling him off, but the second I confront him, my brain’s rendered useless.
“I— I just wanted to— Look, I need your part of the assignment by Friday,” I mumble the first thing that pops into my head, grateful I came up with any words at all.
Sawyer’s expression grows dark, and he tenses visibly. “It’s not due for another three weeks.”
“Yeah, well. I need to review it and inevitablyfix itbefore we turn it in.Some of uscare for our grades,” I say in a single breath.
He stares me dead in the eye for about five seconds, during which my heart manages to beat a million times, before he spits out, “Fine,” through his teeth, shoulders his backpack and, for the second time today, walks away.
I rush behind him. Why the hell is he walking so fast?
“Sawyer,” I call out. He keeps walking, so I speed up to catch up with him. “Sawyer!”
“What?” Sawyer barks, stopping abruptly, almost making me bump into him. “Seriously, what do you want from me?”
Honestly, I’m not sure myself. “I want to talk.”
“What about?”
Is he kidding? “You know damn well what about, Sawyer.”
“Frankly, I don’t, but have at it,” he says and continues walking. I follow.
“Why do you always have to be such a dick?”
“Why do you care?”
Good question. “I don’t. I…” I take a deep breath. “Can’t you see this is kind of a big deal for me?”
“Were you expecting a ring? Sorry if I mislead you.”
I launch forward and stop in front of Sawyer, causing him to halt. “I was expecting a fucking ‘good morning.’”
