Page 26 of Fake Game

Deer sobers up and runs past me with a litany of curses, disappearing into her bathroom and returning with a giantblanket and a large pink case of what looks like makeup cradled in her arms. Annoyance bleeds out her eyes.

I hold her front door open, and she clips me with her elbow as she pushes past me. I stifle a snort as I follow behind her, rolling her suitcase across the linoleum.

Her foot taps impatiently as we wait for the elevator, the silver aglet on her pristine white sneakers glinting from the overhead lights. She says nothing, just stews in her thoughts. I can feel the tension radiating off her as we get inside, filling up the small metal box as we descend to the lobby.

She’s the one who is being ridiculous. It’s bad enough she insisted on staying here the first time around, but I can’t believe she was just planning to stick it out after another attempted swatting. What is wrong with her?

If I hadn’t picked up, if I hadn’t forced my way over here, would she have told anyone what happened tonight?

It doesn’t make sense. Why does she try to do everything herself?

Deer stalks ahead of me, burning holes in the ground with every step she takes.

“You don’t even know where I parked,” I call out to her as she pushes through the revolving doors.

“Maybe I’m walking,” she tosses back.

I press my lips into a thin line and pick up my pace slightly. Not enough to make it seem like I’m rushing after her—because I’m not—but enough to make sure I don’t lose her to the darkness.

She pauses for a moment, head swiveling until she locates my Jeep parked off to the side. I fish my key out of my pocket to unlock the car, and she doesn’t even spare me a second glance before hauling herself onto the passenger seat. I toss her suitcase and backpack into the trunk before joining her.

“What’s this?” She holds up my black duffle bag, the one I’d left on the passenger seat.

“Nothing.” I pull it from her grip and lob it into the trunk. It lands with a thwack.

I quickly start the engine and turn up the volume on my speakers as I pull away from her apartment.

“You can just drop me off at Lee’s.”

“No.”

“No?”

“No. I don’t trust you to stay there.”

“I’m not a child.”

I give her a glance out of the corner of my eye. “I’d beg to differ. You’re being more difficult than my sister, and she’s thirteen.”

Her lips pop open, forming a pretty O shape.

I ready myself for whatever argument she is going to throw back, but instead she just gives me a curt, “Whatever,” before turning away from me. She hikes her feet onto the seat and pulls her knees up to her chest as she stares out the window.

Some unhinged part of my brain is tempted to reach out and rub her shoulder—to comfort her—but I just curl my fingers around my steering wheel tighter. It’s bad enough that I keep finding myself interfering with her life, I don’t need to make this even more complicated.

By the time we pull into the private garage beneath the apartment complex, it’s nearing 3 a.m. Weariness is written in Deer’s bones as I watch her slip out of the car at the pace of a snail. It’s almost as if by accepting defeat against me, her body has finally begun to shut down.

Silence surrounds us on the elevator ride up to the penthouse, and it’s only when the doors open and she steps foot on the shiny black tiles in our apartment that she stops to acknowledge me.

“Where do you want me?”

“My room.”

Life sparks in her tired eyes. “What?”

I shrug past her, rolling her suitcase behind me as I turn into the hallway where my rooms are located. I push open the last door on the left and flick on the lights before wheeling the suitcase to a stop.

Deer pauses at the threshold, gaze darting everywhere.

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