Page 34 of Left-Hand Larceny

Vic chuckles. “Relax. I’m not saying you’re picking out wedding china. Just… be honest with yourself, yeah?”

“It’s c-c-complicated.”

I swallow hard. I hate this conversation. Not because he’s wrong, but because he might be right. This crush, these feelings, my down bad, whatever compulsory school terms my captain wants to use, they all are one-hundred percent correct. I like Sadie. A lot. More than I’d initially thought was possible. And I refuse to be the jerk who uses her willingness to help me to make a move.

My phone buzzes and my stomach does this pathetic little flip. I try not to lunge for it.

Sadie:

Medusa. Obvi.

But I can think of literally a million better clues than that.

I smile before I can stop myself.

Me:

Tell me

Sadie:

Gorgon with a bad hair day?

I catch most of the laugh before it slips out, but Vic catches it anyway.

“Jesus,” he groans, “You’re hopeless.”

I ignore him to type back quickly.

Me:

Still thought you’d get it faster.

Another buzz.

Sadie:

Sorry, I’m at my cousin’s soccer tournament.

Some high schooler just dislocated his shoulder… doing one of those viral dance things.

I promise I got it the moment I read the text. Bonus point?

Been there, done that. Although it was a nasty hit and not social media that popped my joint out of place. Yet another reason not to trust these apps.

Me:

Better him than me.

+1

I set my phone down again, and Vic’s still watching me like I’m a bug under a microscope slide. Trapped, pinned down for perusal. No escape.

“Look,” Vic says, serious now. “If it’s about the team thing, nobody’s gonna care. Not if it makes you happy. Both of you happy. If you were smart, you’d stop being a stubborn shit and just ask her out already.”

“I-i-it’s n-n-n-not—” I shake my head.

“Bullshit.” He’s grinning, but his voice is harder than I expect. The captain's voice, the one he uses when you’ve eaten it hard in the corner and need a pep talk before your next shift. Or when one guy has winged it off the post over three times in the past five minutes. Time for the hard truths about where and how to aim.

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