Page 18 of Landon & Shay: Part One

I grimaced and whisper-hissed, “You don’t know shit about me, Shay.”

“Then how am I able to get under your skin so easily? If that wasn’t true, if you weren’t sad, why would my saying that bother you so much?”

“You don’t,” I calmly replied.

She did.

She was pushing me, making me uncomfortable with the fact that she did seem able to see the parts of me no one else could. Anger was building in my chest, and I needed to defuse it before it became too big.

“Maybe it’s best if we shut up for the rest of the time,” I told her.

“For the second time in my life, I agree with you.”

Shay sat down on the floor of the closet, and I did the same, leaning back against some coats that were hanging. How did seven minutes feel like seventy? Was time moving at all? This was hell.

Then came the silence. The silence that brought out heavy thoughts. Shay could read my mind somehow, and so, when the silence became too much, I cleared my throat and tried to make small talk in hopes of shutting my own brain up. “A chicken and Satan walk into a closet—stop me if you’ve heard this one.”

She laughed a little.

It was quiet and low, and dammit, I’d never heard Shay laugh at anything I’d ever said before, so that was new. What was also new was the small part of me that enjoyed hearing her sound.

“Landon?” she whispered.

“Yeah?”

“Just shut up, all right?”

Yeah, okay.

“One more minute, you horny hatebirds!” Eric called out.

We both stood, and I took a step closer toward her. “I get you not wanting to kiss. That’s intimate and personal, but if you want, this is your last chance to touch my cock while no one’s looking. I won’t stop you.”

“No thanks. I’m allergic to peanuts,” she said so effortlessly andloudly, causing the crowd on the other side of the door to burst into laughter.

Shay smirked again, feeling proud of her little dig at me. That beautiful, annoying smirk I loved to hate.

Shay: 1

Landon: 0

I wasn’t worried, though. The game was just getting started. She might’ve scored one point, but I wasn’t going to let it happen again. We were playing on my field, and Shay didn’t know what she was up against.

The moment time was up, we opened the door and stepped outside to a crowd. Leading that crowd was Monica, and she had crazy eyes. The last thing I wanted to do was deal with Monica and her crazy. She always had that reaction whenever she saw me talking to another girl even though she was out there screwing a million guys herself.

I rolled my shoulders back and parted my lips to speak, but it didn’t matter much at all becausesmack.

Monica’s palm landed on my cheek, sending a stinging sensation through my system. God, it’d been almost two months since Monica slapped me last—that had to be a new record.

“Really, Landon? Spin seven with another girl?With my friend?!” she yelled breathlessly, her eyes watering over as the crowd kept watching. If there were two things you could always count on, it was Monica’s dramatics and the nosy people of our town eavesdropping on her hysterics.

I found it hilarious that based on the amount of shit Monica talked about Shay behind her back, she would call her a friend. I figured she hated Shay even more than I did. It seemed Monica was actually jealous of the hate I gave to Shay, which only deepened her disgust for the girl. Sometimes, I got so annoyed at the crap she’d say about Shay and how low she’d stoop to trash-talk the girl I hated. I’d call her out on it, too, being oddly protective of the girl I wasn’t supposed to care anything about. How did one have enough nerve to stand up for their enemy in private but treat them like crap in public? I was that level of asshole.

My mouth opened to speak, but no words came out because she smacked me again.

More chants from the crowd.

Okay, this was getting a little ridiculous.

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