Page 69 of The Play

Just when I decide all is well—when the night is quiet and Nico’s scattered items have been collected—the front door of the sorority house flies open and Demi emerges. Holding a tangle of cables, controllers, and a slender black PlayStation.

Nico’s head snaps up. “Thank you!” Looking relieved, he holds out his hands as if he truly believes he’s getting the game console back unscathed.

“Thank you? No, thankyou,” Demi shoots back. She’s spitting fire again. “Thank you for wasting eight years of my life.” She hurls one controller to the ground. “Thank you for lying to my face.” The second controller smashes on the concrete walkway. “Thank you for disrespecting me.”

When she reaches the curb, the only item she’s left holding is the PlayStation.

I hold my breath. The other components could easily be replaced. This console itself can’t.

“I never want to see you again. You’ve ruined this. You ruined our friendship, you ruined our relationship, you ruinedeverything.”

Crash!

The PlayStation collides with the sidewalk, breaking into several pieces.

Nico has the nerve to say, “I can’t believe you did that!” Which prompts Demi to take a swing at him, and that’s when I jump away from the hedge.

She manages to get one sharp blow in before I haul her away from him, trying to corral her like a wild horse.

She might not be a teammate, but I think this still qualifies for paragraph four, line eight of the captain’s log:Don’t let your teammates commit murder.

“Hey, hey, stop,” I order.

“Hunter? What are you doing here?” She blinks a few times before her eyes go feral again. “Let me go. He deserves an ass kicking!”

“Yes, he does,” I agree, and Nico scowls at me. “But karma will do that job for you, trust me.”

“Hunter, let me go!” Now she’s grunting, gritting her teeth, attempting to punch her way out of my grip. So I fling her over my shoulder in a fireman’s carry. “Hunter!” she screeches in outrage. “Put me down!”

“No. I’m not watching you get arrested for assault tonight, okay?” I kick away a piece of Nico’s PlayStation, while trying to contain a struggling Demi. “You’re already guilty of property damage.”

“I don’t care!” she says stubbornly. “Now I want to do bodily damage.”

“I know you do, Semi, but trust me, he ain’t worth it.”

But the riled-up woman in my arms is still flapping her arms like a trapped bird trying to get free. I spare a dark look at Nico before marching off toward my Land Rover. Only when I reach the vehicle do I set Demi down. The moment her socked feet meet the sidewalk, her steely demeanor seems to crumble. Suddenly she turns into a vulnerable girl, tears welling in her eyes.

“He humiliated me,” she whispers.

“I know, babe. C’mere.” I open my arms, but she ducks her head shamefully.

“No. I don’t want a hug,” she mumbles.

“Fine, then get in the car.”

“Why?”

“You’re coming over to my place and we’re getting drunk. You could use the distraction.”

Demi hesitates. She glances in the vicinity of the Theta house, where Nico is slowly walking toward his pick-up truck. Then she tears her gaze away and opens the passenger’s door of my Rover.

We’re on the road a few seconds later. Demi doesn’t say a single word. She keeps her gaze straight ahead.

“I’m so sorry,” I say gruffly.

She finally speaks, her voice trembling with each word. “No, I’m the one who’s sorry. You were right—about everything. And I snapped at you and called you a fuckboy.” She sniffles. “I feel horrible about that. Please tell me you accept my apology.”

“Of course I do. It’s all good with us, Demi. I promise.”

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