Page 16 of Puck You Very Much
That would’ve earned a laugh from me had I not felt so determined to get the hell away from him. Could he really kick the shit out of me? I don’t know. The remaining minor swelling on his face suggested otherwise. At that point, I gave up on the idea that Zane would leave me alone and behave like a normal human being, but I understood I needed to keep up my guard. You know what the Remington Riptides can be like.
If only I had parked closer to the café, I could’ve wiggled out of this pickle much sooner…
“You know, it’s polite to answer when someone speaks to you,” he said.
“And it’s even more polite to leave someone alone when it’s pretty obvious they don’t want to talk to you.”
“That’s only because you haven’t let me tell you what I really want to talk about.”
Yeah, I should’ve told him to go take a flying leap long ago. I freely admit I’m horrible at telling people no. I’m also a famously soft touch. Despite it all, I had no problem slugging him in the heat of the moment. And yes, I like reminding myself of that.
“If you’d just hang on a minute, I’ll tell you what I really want to talk to you about. Wanna hear it?”
“Would you shut the hell up if I said no?”
Another dumbass chuckle followed.
“Probably not,” he said.
Of course not. Common sense had never been a hallmark of the Remington Riptides. Part of me wanted to ask what he meant to tell me so I could get it over with, but I understood he would do it one way or another.
“Okay, here it is,” he said, “I’d like to call a truce.”
“A truce?”
“Is there an echo out here? Yeah, I’d like to call a truce, put all the silliness behind us.”
“Remember how I said you were nuts?”
“Of course. It was less than two minutes ago. I don’t have amnesia, you know.”
“Good, because I really meant every word of it. Matter of fact, I think you’re nutty as a fruitcake, and they should reserve you a nice padded room and straightjacket. Now, how would that sound?”
“Like a dream come true.”
“Figures.”
I wanted to win the war of words in addition to laying Zane out flat (though I’m sure he would tell you I’d delivered a sucker punch). So far, I was in the lead, but only by a nose. Zane wanted to suck me in. I just knew it. That was how guys like him operated and I wouldn’t fall for it.
“You act like a truce is crazy.”
“A truceiscrazy.”
“No, it isn’t. It’s what mature adults do. Can you give me one good reason why we shouldn’t shake hands and be friends?”
“Let’s start with how you all but forced me to go outside with you just a couple of days ago. And at a candy store, for God’s sake.”
“You didn’t go outside, though.”
“Yes, I did.”
“But you?—”
If I kept playing semantics, maybe he would do what I wanted (what America wanted, for that matter) by going away and never showing his face again.
“I see what you’re doing,” he said.
“And what’s that?”
