Page 58 of Catch Me
I grabbed my sub and wandered up a few levels in the stands. Tessa came over, but she got bored quickly and started running around again.
Putting my feet on the seat below me, I set my food in my lap and watched what was happening on the field. Roman was cycling between taking bites of his sandwich and working on his tablet. I leaned forward, unable to abate my curiosity. Since I wasn’t too far up, I could faintly see the image. It was a person—probably Ron or Patrick. The hair seemed longer than Patrick’s, though, and lighter than Ron’s.
Curiosity allegedly killed the cat, so I finished my sandwich, then sank lower in my seat and stretched my legs over the top of the one in front of me.
I didn’t need to be here, but there was a misplaced sense of responsibility I felt for this project. Maybe I’d stay home next week. Roman probably thought I was being overbearing, like when I came here two days ago. I had a tendency to do that. Some people said I was protective, but I’d also been called controlling. Maybe it was both. More likely, I just sucked at minding my business, even though I constantly told myself to.
I probably needed a hobby. Tessa and I did a lot of things, but I was cursed with being a busybody. Sen would say I needed a good man. That sounded horrible.
I wasn’t anti-relationship. It just wasn’t something I thought about much, and when I imagined trying to fit them into all the parts of my life, it felt complicated. I didn’t want to shift my world around to accommodate another person. If I ever did that, they’d have to be really fucking special. I got bored easily anyway, and if I didn’t, I fell too quickly. At this point, I just didn’t have a lot of interest in making an effort.
After putting in my earbuds, which had somehow found their way into one of the kitchen drawers, I started tapping my toes on the seat. I closed my eyes and listened to one of the bands that was good for when my brain was overactive. It was growly and dark, which relaxed me for some reason. Was that a sign that I was into toxicshit? It might’ve helped to drown out the anger that simmered under the surface when I was stressed. I wasn’t a psychologist, so it was possible I was trying to explain something that didn’t need explaining.
Something touched my shoulder and made me jerk. I looked to the side where Roman was crouching. He tapped his finger on his ear, so I took one of the buds out.
“What’s up?” I asked.
“We’re done.”
My gaze went to the sky, and I was surprised to see that the sun was pretty low compared to when I’d sat down.
“Want me to drive again?”
I sat up and shook my head. “Why?”
“You’re tired.”
“Nah, I was just bored. I have a lot of energy right now, so I tried to purge it mentally with music.”
“That works?”
“It’s hit or miss. Apparently, it worked this time.”
I dropped my feet to the floor, and with him still crouching, it put us very close to each other. He was clearly uncomfortable, but since he didn’t move, I stood and headed to the stairs.
All I had to do was snap my fingers and Tessa came up beside me. Neither Roman or I said anything on the way home. I was going to ask if he had any opinions about dinner, but he went directly to his room. He needed cards to hold up—green for a good mood, red for a bad mood, and yellow for ‘use caution.’ The last one was his resting state and red was a close second.
“Well, looks like it’s just me and you, monster.”
My mouth dropped open when she marched casually down the hall and pawed at the doorknob until she got into Roman’s room. I heard him laugh, and when I accepted that she wasn’t coming back, I opened the fridge to find something edible.
Chapter 19
Roman
I didn’t eat again last night. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to. Things with Travis were just weird, and I was too much of a coward to deal with it.
We’d been okay and were talking more—laughing, even. Then, it would get awkward. Either he said something that made me snap or I tried to make conversation and screwed it up somehow. He didn’t want to answer my question yesterday, which was fine and it was his right, but I found myself wanting to ask again.
We weren’t friends. He’d made it clear that he didn’t want to be. We interacted like it sometimes, but I couldn’t forget that.
It was late morning, but I didn’t feel like I’d slept at all. Apparently, that wasn’t unique to my own bed. Once Tessa left my room, I began to toss and turn endlessly.
God, if this was happening because I was lonely or something, I’d never sleep again. I’d only slept in a bed with Irene when we were dating. It was weird, but she got offended the first time I tried to go home after we had sex, so I just stayed after that. I was relieved when we broke up after six months. We were on and off after that, but we were only together for weeks at a time.
Thinking about it now, I was glad that I hadn’t rekindled anything before I left. I didn’t even like her, but I didn’t want to look for someone else and spend the time getting to know them. I went to her when I had to, when I needed totryto get myself back on track. It just pushed me into a deeper depression every time we were together.
Maybe I just needed to be alone. I couldn’t screw up if I didn’t have anything romantic or sexual. As long as I had friends, my life could be great. I wasn’t sure if I had those, though. The last time we hung out, I walked out because I couldn’t stand being around them.
