Page 54 of Off Camera
“I’m sorry.” Her face softens. “That’s cruel.”
“You have nothing to be sorry for. You didn’t stick my head in a toilet.”
“No. I’m only going to stand outside your office with a boombox and play the Thunderhawks song on repeat for hours.”
“I feel bad for you if that’s the best you got. I wear noise-canceling headphones when I’m in the arena. You can play that damn song all you want; I’m never going to hear it, and you’re just going to look very, very stupid.”
“Guess I’ll have to come up with a better idea.” Avery taps my foot with hers. “Thanks for pausing the feud for a few minutes. We can resume our hatred for each other tomorrow.”
“I plan to show you how much I dislike you during the flag football tournament. Hope you packed your sneakers, Sinclair. I’m going to mop the field with you,” I say.
Her smile curls around the edges. I hate that I feel it in the center of my chest. “I might have been a ballerina, but my senior year in high school, I played on the flag football team too. I was MVP.”
“That’s going to make leveling you to the grass even more fun. I haven’t played a day of flag football in my life,” I say.
Avery laughs. “Oh, this is going to be fun. If my team wins, you better believe I’m going to post the video of your downfall and share it on social media so everyone can see. I’ll tag you so you can repost it, if you want.”
“Like I won’t hack into your computer and delete the files.”
She seems to pause at that, and says, “Can you really do that?”
“Guess you’ll find out,” I say.
“Maybe you’ll find some new material to use while you’re sorting through everything.” She fixes the sleeve of her blazer and checks her watch. “I need to run. I’m meeting some women for dinner, and I don’t want to be late.”
“Do you want me to walk you there?”
“And why would you do that?”
“You said we’re going back to our disdain for each other tomorrow. You didn’t say anything about the rest of the night.”
She bites her bottom lip and hesitates. “I think I’m good. Thank you, though.”
“No problem. Have fun.”
“What are you doing the rest of the night?”
I shrug. “Hanging out in my room and reading. These are the last few days of solitude I’ll have before the season starts, and I want to make the most of them.”
“This time next week, we’ll be one sleep away from the preseason.”
“And we both know how fast the year goes from there.”
“Mhm.” Avery pushes off the railing. “Bring your A game tomorrow for the flag football tournament, Duncan. You’re going to need it.”
She disappears inside, and I spend way too long staring at the sky.
It’s better than the alternative, I guess, which would be to stare at her.
Our history of bickering and arguing tells me I can’t have her.
So why the fuck do I want her even more than I did three nights ago?
SEVENTEEN
AVERY
Reid
