Page 1 of Playing with Fire

CHAPTER ONE

Never have I ever. It felt so stupid.

I mean, I'm not one to brag.

I do brag occasionally but this fact is irrelevant.

I've never failed at anything. The last time I failed an exam was during that algebra test in tenth grade.

My point is I shouldn't be here. Completely failing a concussion test.

I have absolutely no memory of what the doctor instructed me to remember.

Elbow, apple, cuddle, bubble?

I don't know.

It's ridiculous.

One perfect throw. One perfect catch. The one perfect moment was ruined by that foolish boy. The plan was to throw a pointless long-range ball while having fun.

Until I ran into him.

It appears he delivered me another fucking concussion. He caused another concussion which makes two for this year. Colliding with him resulted in my injury. How fucking lucky am I?

Let's say I'm less than amused. I'm beyond pissed. The moment I entered my house I endured the torture of hearing his voice.

Why the fuck is he here?

I can blame Elijah for that. Those two are inseparable. Having him inside my house is bad enough yet living across the street makes it even worse. I remove my shoes and think god; he's such an ass-

"Honey." My mom interrupts my thoughts. "Why don't you get some rest? The doctor advised me to avoid bright lights since it's getting late. "Got it," I mumbled back to her.

But I wasn't heading upstairs just yet. Not without talking to him first. Or maybe yelling, I don't know.

I have this overwhelming certainty that I am completely furious with him.

As I make my way to the kitchen I stare at the ground because the lights are overly bright. I lower my gaze while I turn down the lights so I can look up though only just.

He stands against the island counter observing me closely. My mind triggers an automatic response that makes me visualize punching or slapping him.

One of those two.

I end up doing something that is completely unexpected. "You're such a dick, you know that?" I blurt out.

He lets out a laugh at this. "Firing insults already, Em? A hello would be nice."

"Shut up," I argue. The pounding headache in my head prevents them from rolling their eyes at me.

"Shut up." he mocks me, leaning off the counter.

My vision becomes focused as I feel my tongue press against my mouth's roof.

He's fucking obnoxious.

You need to work on improving your behavior. He responded with a disrespectful remark saying your forehead wrinkles might disappear if you quit frowning at me.

His sideways head triggers my anger towards him.He has hickeys. All down the side of his neck. Dark ones, too.

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