Page 76 of The Fallacy of True Love
Of course he was.
“How was the boot camp?”
“Ugh.”
He threw me a look of commiseration. “That bad?”
“It would have been okay if it weren’t for the stupid guys treating me like I was planted there for comic relief.”
“Seriously?”
I balled my hands on my lap. “What is it about me that screams stupid? Is it my boobs? My skin tone? Is it that I’m from the province or simply the fact that I’m a girl? Because I’m sick of people judging me based on the way I look. I might not be some huge success story, but I worked hard to get where I am, and I did it on my own. I hate it when people treat me like I don’t know shit, cause I do.”
I clamped my lips shut before I said anything else. I hadn’t meant to rant to him, but his questions had popped the lid off the frustrations I’d been fighting to contain. A part of me felt compelled to apologize for my outburst, but he’d asked, and I had told him the truth.
The air buzzed with silence—the type that kept you frozen in anticipation of what the other person would say next. I found myself holding my breath, as though releasing it was a sign of weakness or defeat. It shouldn’t have mattered what he thought of me—what any of them did. I knew my worth, and no one could take that away from me.
My brain knew that full well. If only my heart didn’t get bogged down by stupid feelings.
“I’m sorry you went through that,” Alonzo said. “It sucks when people assume things about you, and I bet it was extra hard with you being in a new place and everything.”
My breath escaped me in a heavy whoosh, leaving me deflated and tired. “It’s not your fault. Anyway, I’m used to the judgment.”
“I know I underestimated you the first time we met, and that’s on me. I hate to think I’m one of the jerks on your list.”
“To be fair, I judged you more,” I reluctantly admitted. “I’m sorry.”
He nodded. “Does that mean you’ve changed your mind about me?”
“I haven’t decided yet,” I answered with a shrug, unwilling to admit what I already knew—my prejudices against him were shifting with each encounter.
And that was the scary part.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Alonzo
Testing the door knob of Maya’s rental room, I felt it loosen from where it was mounted. One good yank, and it would fall off entirely.
“I don’t think you should stay here,” I told her.
She dumped her bag on the single plastic chair and looked around at the windowless walls, painted a sickly shade of green. “It’s just for sleeping and showering. I’ll be fine.”
“Maya. The deadbolt is missing the bar, and the doorknob might as well be nonexistent.”
“I’ll put the chair against the door.”
“That only works if you have a knob to keep it in place.”
“Then I’ll use the bed.” I raised an eyebrow at her, and she sighed. “The first night’s nonrefundable. I’ll transfer to another place tomorrow.”
“I’m staying with you tonight.”
Crossing her arms, she said, “No.”
“I’ll sleep on the floor.”
“And risk being eaten by cockroaches?”
