Page 79 of Cheater and the Saint
I’d just gotten out of British lit when I decided to call my big brother. Jacob and I had our presentation that morning, and we’d kicked ass. Turns out I was great at talking in front of people, and I had the whole class cracking up, even though there was nothing amusing about eighteenth-century literature. Even Mrs. Stevens had cracked a smile. So, I was in a good mood and thought there was no better time to share my good news with the one person I knew who could appreciate it.
“Are you serious, L?”
I couldn’t blame him for being stunned stupid. Three months ago, I’d been a completely different man. Before I’d met Saint—hell, even a little bit after I’d met him—I’d been content with my playboy ways, but I wanted more now.
“Yeah. I am,” I answered, taking my time as I walked to the student center. The November morning was chilly, but the sun was warm and helped cancel out some of the cold. “I’m happy, Heath. Like really fucking happy.”
“You don’t know how incredible it is to hear you say that, lil bro.” There was a pause as a girl muttered something in the background—Tabitha, I assumed—and then Heath said, “Tabby says we should meet up and do a double date thing. It’s a few hours’ drive for us, so maybe we can drive up on a Friday and spend the weekend there.”
“That’d be cool,” I said. “I’ll talk to Saint about it.”
“Wait,” Heath interjected. “Saint? As in your weird roommate Saint?”
“Yeah,” I admitted with a laugh. “He’s still a weirdo, by the way, but he’smyweirdo.”
“Great. You’re both weirdos. I’m sure it works.”
We talked for a few more minutes, before he had to get back to work. I grabbed a soda and candy bar from the cafeteria in the student center before finding a table and plopping down in a chair. As usual, it was a bit crowded, but not too bad.
I ate the candy bar in four bites and gulped down half of the soda. Saint was supposed to be meeting me there before I had to get to my next class.
“Hey. Can I sit?”
I looked up from my phone to see Angel. He was his usual goth self—black skinny jeans, black band shirt with a black jacket pulled over it, and all black converse. His black hair was spiked up, and his pale skin held a slight flush in his cheeks, probably from the outside chill.
“I don’t know,” I said, being my smartass self. “Canyou sit?”
Angel scoffed, taking the seat across from me. “Okay, Mrs. Hernandez. When I was in elementary school, she’d say that shit to me all the time. Trying to teach us proper grammar and shit. Like, I’m only six, lady, leave me alone.”
I found it weird he wanted to sit with me. Sure, Saint had introduced us, and Angel had come over to the dorm a few times, where we’d talked. But when Saint wasn’t around, we didn’t hang or anything.
“When I was in elementary school, a teacher caught me kissing a girl behind the swing set on the playground,” I said and grinned at the memory. From a young age, I was a little player. “I got a letter sent home to my parents and had to stand against the wall at recess for a week.”
With a shake of his head and a smile curving one side of his mouth, Angel looked down. He tapped his fingers on the tabletop before glancing back up at me. “This is awkward, but it’s been eating at me, and I need to get it off my chest.”
Ah, fuck. Here we go.
“Okay,” I said. “Shoot.”
“Here’s the thing,” he started and leaned forward in his chair. “Saint means a lot to me. You didn’t see him that night when you almost fucked it all up. I almost tracked you down right then and there.” His hazel eyes stared right into me. “If you hurt him again, I’m coming for you.”
Was I really such a shitty person that everyone kept assuming I’d fuck it up with Saint? A person’s past shouldn’t define them, but it felt like mine had. How could I be happy and have faith things would work out if no one else believed in me?
“Listen, Lestat,” I said with a smile, but coldness penetrated my tone. “I don’t need you coming here and fucking making threats. Got it? My relationship ismyfucking business, so keep your damn fangs out of it.”
“I’m just trying to protect my friend,” Angel countered.
“No, I think you’re jealous that I’m with him and you’re not,” I pointed out. “So you act all big and bad, making threats, and trying to fuck shit up.” I glared at him, placing my hands on the table and leaning forward. “I suggest you back off.”
“Hey, what’s going on?” Saint asked as he approached. His bag was slung over his shoulder, and his blond hair was lying flat.
“Nothing.” I stood and pulled him against me, kissing his temple. “Angel was just leaving.”
Taking the hint, Angel got up and walked toward Saint. “See you later, okay?” He shot me a glare before leaving.
Saint wasn’t stupid. He turned to me. “Why were y’all arguing?”
We sat down at the table, and I pulled his chair over to me so I could hold him. A guy looked over at us and scowled, but I ignored him. In fact, there were a few people who seemed to have sticks up their asses as they saw me with my arm around my boyfriend. None of them said shit, though, and as I caught some of their stares, I silently challenged them to say one fucking thing about it.
“The vampire seems to think I’m going to hurt you,” I admitted before pressing my face into Saint’s hair. “He was warning me. So I told him to fuck off.”
“It kills me that you call him that,” Saint said, laughing. “And I’m sure he doesn’t mean anything bad by it.”
A nagging feeling settled in the pit of my stomach. “Hey, Frosty… do you think I’m going to fuck this up, too?”
His blue eyes flashed to me. “What? No.” Guilt clouded his expression before he lifted his hand to bite his thumb. A tell-tale sign that he was nervous, so it was like a knife to the chest. “I mean, I’ve had my doubts, but not so much anymore.”
I smiled, although I was hurting on the inside. If you told a person enough times how worthless they were, they eventually started believing you. That’s how I felt. Too many people doubted me, and as I sat there with the one person who made my heart soar, knowing he doubted me, too… I wondered if everyone was right about me.
