Page 8 of Afterglow
I push my reaction to the back of my mind and lock it there before replying to Theodore.
“Yeah, well, I’m studying sports psychology, so it makes sense.”
His face falters at my disgruntled tone. “Did I do something wrong?”
Is he usually this aware? Either way I don’t want him infiltrating my thoughts any longer. If I have to be a bitch to get him to leave me alone, so be it.
“Nope. Just didn’t think I’d see you in this class,”
Theodore’s nose scrunches and his lips form a straight line. Bingo. Now, he’s angry. I will probably regret this later but currently, protecting myself is the most important thing.
“Why is that? Thought I was just a dumb jock,”
“I didn’t even know you played sports, but now that you say it—” My eyes move down his body. That explains why he is built of pure muscle. “—Iprobably did.”
Frustration remains written on Knight’s face. “Let’s make another bet, Princess.”
I can’t help but roll my eyes at the nickname. Unfortunately, I think it will stick. He lost the last bet to me weeks ago and is in the mood for another one. Clearly, I wounded his ego.
“Whoever wins the internship, gets bragging rights.”
“Your ego is astoundingly large. Are you trying to overcompensate for something else?”
Theodore’s eyes flare, the same lust covered ones from the bar coming back to haunt me. Boys really are easy to rile up.
“May the best person win,” I say.
The arrogant smirk on Knight’s mouth was begging to be wiped off. And like before I want to be the one to do it.
Game on, Theodore, game on.
Chapter 4
December
Theodore Knight
Every day for the past four months I have been haunted by regret.
My stomach is in knots, twisted together in bundles that will never be unravelled. I wipe my palms down the legs of my jeans, unable to look towards Jazmine, who sits at the back of lecture theatre eight. It has been her usual spot since the first time I saw her in this class.
Professor Hart is giving our final exams back forIntroduction to Psychologyand telling us whoearned the internship for next summer. My exam went well, which is a relief since I studied my fucking ass off. Making the bet with Jazmine was a great motivator but over the past months, I’ve seen her become detached.
In the beginning, I thought it was a one off. So, I watched Jaz closely. The bags under her eyes became darker and her ivory skin grew paler. Questions were on the tip of my tongue every time I passed her zombie-like condition in class, the halls or at Strong Beans.
Are you okay?
Did I drive you to this state of misery?
Her stupid comment—and I say stupid because it was and I shouldn’t have taken it to heart. Jazmine caught me on a bad day. My father spent half an hour interrogating me about football, while my muscles ached from a prolonged training session. So, I projected the feelings I keep buried onto Jazmine.
Selfishly, I want this internship to avoid spending most of the summer with dad and his excessive need for my life to revolve around football. I’ve spent nearly all of freshman year on the bench, which I understand, Dean Adams wanted me to realise I brought this on myself.
The punishment stung. Even more when I realised Nick Holden was the starting quarterback. We were rivals throughout our high school days, but after watching him training and getting to learn off him, I knew it was for the best. Although we didn’t win the championship this year, we were closer than we have been in a decade.
My skin burns, the knots in my stomach constrict further. Jazmine’s eyes are locked with mine as I twist inmy chair. Oxygen is a luxury, restricted from entering my throat and into my lungs where I need it most.
Students’ names are called alphabetically by last name; Jazmine is first. She avoids my gaze as she edges closer to the front of the lecture theatre.
