Page 40 of Resist Me

“How’s the roach situation?”

“They still scatter when I turn on a light in the kitchen, so how do you think?”

“I’m guessing that means you haven’t been sleeping again.”

“If I take, like, five melatonin, I can get a good few hours in.”

That didn’t sound healthy, but I was sure he didn’t need me to tell him that. He’d just think I was being condescending and it would fuel his perceived feud with me.

“I know a few things about pest control,” I ventured.

“That’s a weird thing to know about. Did you live in a rat-infested home growing up?”

I couldn’t help but chuckle. “No, my grandparents own a pest control company.”

“That’s random.”

“It’s a big business, especially in the south. Anyway, I might be able to help out. It could do some good until you actually get a real company in there.”

“Linc, we’re not friends.”

“I didn’t say that we were.”

He looked at me over the notebook. Anything I might’ve seen in his eyes in the cafeteria was gone, replaced by a coldness that attempted to chill my bones. When he leaned forward, perching his elbows on his knees, I matched his position.

“I’ve been wondering something,” he said. “Why’d you fake spraining your ankle?”

My body went rigid. I maintained eye contact, too worried that he’d see my guilt if I looked away. There was no point denying it, so I shrugged.

“I didn’t feel like playing the last game.”

“No. I think you knew I’d be screwed going up against that team. I wasn’t ready and you didn’t try to prepare me. You wanted me to fail.”

This time, I dropped my gaze. “I didn’t want you to get hurt like that.”

He leaned back and started moving his pencil over the paper. “You can stop feeling guilty. We’re cool.”

“I’m not being nice to you because I feel guilty.”

“I don’t care, Linc. I legitimately do not care and I’m not looking for new friends. Since the start of the season, I’ve been waiting for the day I never had to talk to you again, so if we could skip to that part, that would be grand.”

Getting to my feet, I let out a frustrated breath. I stared down at him, willing him to look at me. It pissed me off more that he was ignoring me.

“Maybe you should get out of your own way,” I suggested coldly. “Learn from those who came before you instead of trying to outshine them. It might save you from making the mistakes we had to learn the hard way.”

He offered me a wave, just a small wag of his fingers.

“Arrogant asshole,” I muttered. After I’d taken a few steps, I turned back around. “I didn’t just put you in the game. Drake took you down all night because of me.”

Icy blue eyes met mine. They would’ve frozen me in place if I wasn’t hot with my own anger. Painting on a smug smile, I left him there.

Now that he had a legitimate reason to hate me, it would be easier to avoid him. I wouldn’t get invited to gatherings at their apartmentand I’d have no trouble passing by him if he decided to sleep on a bench again. The guilt faded away after my admission, freeing me from any further obligation to him.

Good riddance. I had a composition to study and, with a little luck, I’d manage to play it with a new level of fluidity.

*****

As my fingers moved across the keys, I ignored everything else around me. I heard the music, but I also felt it somewhere deep in my bones. Even while I looked at the sheet in front of me, it was like I was barely registering it. I’d been through this composition so many times over the weekend that I was almost confident in playing it without a reference.

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