Page 15 of Undeniable

Quietly, I let him try to figure a way around it before I explained. “I went over there four hours ago, and he wouldn’t do the interview without you there. He told me to come back when you showed up, but his daughter picked him up thirty minutes ago. He has a doctor’s appointment in Austin tomorrow morning and they’re staying there tonight.”

He scoffed and scrubbed a hand down his face. “Then what are we supposed to do?”

All I could manage was a shrug.

“That’s all? You’re just going to shrug? We need to find someone else to interview.”

I stared at him instead of responding and that finally made him angry. The shift from apologetic to frustrated was a quick one.

“Are you just not going to talk to me now? I told you that I was sorry. I don’t know what else to say, but you standing there mute isn’t helping anything.”

His anger called to my own, and I stepped in front of the open door, my arms crossed defensively over my chest.

“I waited for four hours for you to show up. You could have at least called me to tell me you were running late, but you didn’t. And we don’t have anyone else to interview. Everyone who is worth interviewing has already been chosen by another group. This is a small-ass town. There is no solution, James. I’ve tried to think of anything, but we don’t have any options. So, please, get the hell out.”

Based on his expression, I could tell he wasn’t expecting that from me, but I’d come to terms with the outcome.

“You obviously don’t give a fuck, so I’m going to try that, too.”

James stepped forward, reaching for me, but I slid out of the way of his hand. I motioned for him to leave again and kept my eyes forward and pointedly away from his. They were too blue and full of anger and remorse.

Finally, he walked out the door, and I closed it as he turned at the bottom of the porch and tried to apologize again.

“I don’t think it’ll be as bad as you’re making it out to be, Ives,” Shelby said as we veered around students also heading to fourth period.

I wished I believed her, but there was also nothing I could do about it anymore. I’d already emailed Ms. Willmore and told her that the project wouldn’t be turned in on time. She said for half credit, we could turn it in two days later.

I hadn’t told James yet because I was carefully and strategically avoiding him.

He’d called and texted a few times, but I’d ignored every single one. He had secured a place on my shit list forever, barring a miracle which I wasn’t going to hold my breath for.

Never in my entire academic career had I turned in an assignment late. My anxiety about not having anything to turn in made me itchy and hot. I was already on edge, but when we walked into the classroom, just as the bell rang, my nerves spiked.

“What is going on?” I whisper-growled to Shelby, who breezed into the room like nothing was amiss.

“What are you talking about?” she began but immediately stopped when she spotted what I was talking about. Or better yet,who.

Across the room, James stood behind Ms. Willmore’s desk, laughing with our teacher, who patted him on the shoulder and stepped to the front of the room near the whiteboard.

I was frozen in the doorway, watching James move the mouse around a few times before a PowerPoint slide projected onto the screen at the front.

“Ivy, set your stuff down, then join James up front. The two of you are going first,” Ms. Willmore said with a smile.

Beyond confused and unable to truly comprehend what was happening, I tossed my backpack at the foot of my desk and crossed to James.

“Hey, Killer,” he said like it was just another day. “Here are your notecards. I’m going to do the first five slides and you’ll take the last five. It’s pretty straightforward, so I don’t think you’ll have an issue.” He handed me a small stack of notecards and looked at me expectantly.

“What? How? Did you…?” I mumbled through questions, none of which were coherent, as Ms. Willmore spoke to the rest of the class about her grading rubric.

“We can talk about it later. Maybe after our presentation?”

“You did the entire presentation by yourself?” There was no missing the disbelief in my voice.

But James seemed genuinely taken aback by it, pushing a hand through his unruly blond hair and leveling me with a frustrated look.

“Yes, I did it myself. Now, can we—”

“Cheating,” I seethed. “Was not the solution.”

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