Page 21 of Chess Not Checkers
“Everything okay?” Saylor asks.
“What did he do this time?” Marigold mumbles.
I read the email again to make sure I didn’t misread it.
“Shepherd must have gone and talked to Professor Kelton about the change, because I just got an email with a survey to choose the days and times that work best for me. Apparently, whatever the majority chooses is the new date.”
Saylor raises her brows. “See? Maybe he’s not so bad after all.”
“Or he did it to save face. He probably wouldn’t have done anything if Jasmine hadn’t called him out,” Marigold points out.
I sigh. Either way, it makes me want to see him even less. Now I have to face him knowing he did something good. I almost wish I felt as strongly about Shepherd as Marigold does about Jameson. Then I wouldn’t second-guess my words so much.
I don’t have to look up from my laptop to know Shepherd is near. My entire body has been on edge since the moment I left for class. When I came in and he wasn’t here, relief washed over me like an early autumn breeze, but it was tinged with the anxiety of knowing he’d arrive at some point. As soon as he walked in theroom, I knew. And when he walked up to take his seat beside me, the brush of his backpack and his fresh-out-the-shower scent confirmed my instinct.
He doesn’t say a word as he takes the seat next to mine. The silence is disconcerting. I’m used to hearing some kind of ridiculous quip from him. His comment from yesterday about teasing comes to mind. I stifle a sigh.
While I was angry before he even spoke, Shepherd’s mention of my family pushed me to another level. It meant nothing to him since he likely doesn’t understand how I fit into the Carter/Holt family tree. His words implied that he met my whole family, when in reality the only person I share DNA with in the entire group of people he met is my sister. So his question only made me think of my parents during a time when I was already feeling emotionally overwhelmed.
I glance at him. He opens up his laptop, the wallpaper lighting up. It’s a photo of him and his brother, wearing suits. They’re both grinning, and if I didn’t know better, I’d think they could be twins. It looks like they’re in some kind of barn, with twinkle lights and people in formal attire behind them. A wedding, maybe? I look away before he can catch me staring.
Guilt creeps into my mind like a burglar and steals away my anger. I shouldn’t have brought up his brother, even if he brought up my family. Dahlia would remind me that fighting fire with fire only results in getting burned. The thought makes me want to call her, but I don’t want to disappoint her with the truth.
I glance at him again, this time catching him looking at me. We lock eyes. His blue irises are bright today, brought out by his navy Thrashers hoodie. There’s something raw and vulnerable shining in the indigo color that makes me squirm in my seat.
“Do you own any clothes other than university gear?” I blurt out, because staring into his too-blue eyes must have sapped my brain cells.
He lets out a surprised chuckle. “Do you?”
I glance down at my gray Thrashers sweatshirt, my face flaming. I forgot I threw it on while waiting for class to start, since it’s freezing in here today.
“That’s not what I wanted to say. It just kind of came out,” I admit. “I need to talk to you about something.”
He raises his eyebrows. “Do we need to leave class? I’d rather not get yelled at in front of everyone.”
I roll my eyes. “I did notyellat you.”
“No, but based on how our interactions keep getting increasingly more heated, I feel like we’re headed in that direction.”
“I’mtryingto apologize,” I say in an exasperated tone.
“Is that so?”
“Yes, so if you could stop distracting me by being obnoxious, that would be great.”
He swipes a hand over his grin. “My apologies, go ahead. I’m excited to hear this.”
I glare at Shepherd. He leans back in his chair and mimes zipping his smirking lips shut. I take a deep breath and let it out in a huff. Though his attitude makes me want to give up, I know I should still say something.
“I’m sorry for blowing up on you yesterday,” I say, looking down at the biker shorts I’m wearing instead of meeting his gaze. “I was upset, but you didn’t change the dates of the meetings to hurt me, so I shouldn’t have gotten so up in arms about it.”
I tug the sleeves of my sweatshirt down over my palms, feeling self-conscious.
“I was a little out of line too. You were right to say I didn’t think about how it would affect everyone else. I tried to make it right by going back to the professor, if that helps.”
I look up, caught off guard by the sincerity in his voice. I half expected him to tease me some more. He’s watching me with an intensity that steals my breath.
“I got the survey this morning. Thanks for doing that.”
