Page 21 of Fight or Flight
“Believe whatever you want.” I shrug. “I’m not gonna lose any sleep over it.”
Shane’s glare intensifies, and he rolls his lips inward and presses them in a tight line, like he’s forcing himself to stay quiet and not say whatever he’s thinking.
I have so many things I want to say to mess with him, but there are too many witnesses around. I’m still in a weird mood, and I can’t guarantee I’ll be able to hold back.
Time to fuck off before I push things too far.
“I’ll leave you guys to your game,” I tell the group. “Try not to lose too hard.”
“No promises,” Paxton jokes.
I give him and the rest of the table a little wave, shooting Shane a special little smile that I know will piss him the fuck off as I do.
His eyes narrow in another deep glare, and I give a little air kiss complete with one of my trademark smirks.
I expect him to roll his eyes or keep on glaring at me, but he drops his eyes to his chips, his cheeks going slightly pink.
Interesting. I have no idea what got that reaction out of him, but I’ll take it.
Just to be a dick, I offer him a quick wink when he looks up at me again, then head out of the room with my newfound knowledge of Shane’s talent for cheating at cards as I think about all the ways I can use it against him.
4
SHANE
Leaning back in my chair,I strum a few random chords on my guitar, not really listening to them, more to create some background noise in my otherwise silent room.
I’ve been unsettled for the past few days, and the urge to go out and do something stupid is getting stronger with every passing hour. This kind of thing isn’t new for me, not by a long shot, and giving in to my impulses is usually the only way to break the cycle and reset things so I can pretend to be the laid-back frat guy everyone knows me as.
I could go to one of the many parties I was invited to, but with the headspace I’m in, I know there’s no way I’d be able to abstain from my favorite vices if I were offered them. And giving in to my vices is a surefire way to set myself up for a night of fucking up and having to deal with the consequences later.
The best thing for me to do is to stay the fuck away from everyone until this passes, but after almost a week of fighting, it’s getting harder to convince myself that I shouldn’t just say “fuck it” and give in so I can finally feel like myself again. Or at least like the version I’ve molded myself into.
The melancholy notes from my guitar fill the room, but instead of helping to soothe some of my restless energy, the music makes everything around me seem bleaker and more hopeless.
Knock.Knock.Knock.
I pause at the sudden interruption, my fingers hovering over the strings of my guitar as I glance at my door.
Everyone I know is either out partying or off doing other stuff around campus. Who the hell is that?
Knock.Knock.Knock.
Whoever it is obviously can’t take a hint, and I’m hit with a wave of annoyance as I put my guitar down and go to answer my door.
“What’s up, fuck nugget?” Jace greets as soon as the door swings open.
“Not interested,” I tell him in a flat voice and immediately start to close my door.
Jace grabs the side of it and stops me with a gentle tug. “You haven’t even heard what I was going to say.”
“Don’t need to hear it.” I shoot him a glare. “I’m not interested in anything you have to say. Not tonight, not ever.”
“You sure about that?” His lips curl up in a smirky smile. “Because I think you’ll be interested in this.”
“Let go of my door.”
He releases his hold on it, but before I can slam the door shut in his face, he rakes one hand through his long hair and fixes his intense stare on mine. “I saw your little trick with Cody the other night.”
