Page 35 of Pucking Matt
Harvey, who's been watching our exchange like a spectator at a tennis match, holds up his hands. “I'm staying out of whatever the hell this is,” he declares, taking a step back.
Jen, looking thoroughly confused, pipes up. “What is this exactly?”
“I’m leaving Harvey out of this,” I admit.
Matt's eyes never leave mine as he answers Jen, his lips curving into that infuriating smirk I know so well. “This isn’t anything anymore.”
I scoff dramatically. “Are you saying you’re done?”
Matt flicks his head to the right, and I hate the way he’s clenching his jaw.
I whisper, “Because if you could stop coming into the Grind Stone and if you could leave me the fuck alone, that would be great, Matthew.”
“You pushed me down the fucking stairs, Amber.”
“And you told me to shut the fuck up!”
We stare at each other. And it dawns on me like a beautiful sunrise that this is never going to end.
“Are you seriously going to leave Harvey out of it?” he asks.
“Only if you seriously leave me the fuck alone.”
He looks at Harvey. “You’re hearing this, right?”
Harvey nods with a furrowed brow and tight lips.
“I…” I take his drink from his hand and chug it. “Need to leave, so that I don’t ever have to see you again. You’re an asshole, and I hope I never see you again.”
“Then leave my party and never come back, stalker,” Matt shouts, but I’m used to his public humiliation, so it doesn’t faze me.
I flip him off and leave the party, not wanting to hear Jen say that she’s going to stay because I know she’s going to. I hope this thing with Matt is done, but now I get the feeling that it’s not. Matt in high school would never let me live this down. Not then and not now. He’s going to try to break me. This isn’t my first rodeo.
Chapter 10
As I watch Amber storm out of the party, her shoulders set in that stubborn line I've come to know so well, I can't help but smirk. She thinks she's won, but oh, how wrong she is. I'm just getting started.
I turn to Harvey. “See, bro? I’m looking out for you,” I say, clapping him on the shoulder.
He’s quiet as he glances at Jen, probably to see her take on it. The awkwardness is so thick you could cut it with a knife.
I shift my attention to Jen, who's been watching this whole exchange with wide eyes.
“Did you bring it?” I ask, hoping she came through.
Jen nods, reaching into her pocket and pulling out a folded piece of paper.
“She's going to kill me,” she mutters, but hands it over anyway.
“She won’t ever find out,” I assure Jen. “Just make sure it happens.”
Jen nods again, looking like she's already regretting her life choices.
I start looking around the party, trying to figure out where a pen would be. I need to fill this bad boy out before Jen leaves.
“I need to find a pen, so I’ll be right back.”
I hunt for a writing utensil, looking through drawers until I finally find one with a dozen pens and pencils. I grab the folded paper and unfold it. The Grind Stone logo is at the top and the beautiful job application is blank before me. This is exactly what I need for the next phase of my plan. I start filling out the application.
