Page 18 of Kicking It with the Point Guard

Then he writes a problem down on a blank sheet of paper.

“Show me how you’d solve this,” he says, sliding the paper to me.

He eyes me suspiciously.

I scribble something down and circle my answer, sliding it back to him.

He doesn’t even glance at my work. “You weren’t listening to me, were you?”

“What? Of course I was.”

“No you weren’t. This is wrong.” He leans back, crossing his arms.

“You don’t know that! You didn’t even look at it!” I shove myself back from the table. “I think we’re done for today.”

I rip my stuff away from him and shove it in my backpack. I learned my lesson last time I just ran out carrying everything.

“You can’t be serious. We’ve only done one problem.” He looks incredulously at me.

“I’m serious. It’s not even lunchtime, and I’ve already put up with too much shit. Don’t follow me.”

I fling the door open and stomp out. Our secret snack stash had better be full, because I’m not leaving my dorm for the rest of today.

Cameron

What the hell just happened? I can’t stop gaping at the door Violet Miller just stormed out of.

I was surprised to see her when she walked in. But that quickly abated. I’ve seen her struggling with her math homework the past couple of times that we’ve been here together.

Regardless, I wasn’t prepared to spend the next hour with her. I was so caught off guard that I jumped right into it.

She seemed a little off today. Instead of her usual snark, she seemed closed off and… angry?

I should have asked her if she was okay after last night. I should have… What? What could I have done differently? I helped her to her dorm. Should I have insisted on walking her all the way to her room?

But she’s so stubborn. She’s already called me a stalker. What if she thought I wanted to do more than just make sure she was safe?

I sigh, scrubbing my hands over my face. The longer I think about what just happened, the more concerned I get.

I need to clear my head.

I start gathering up my stuff and huff out a humorless laugh. She left her math book here. She was in such a rush to leave, once again, that she forgot her book. I look at it momentarily before shoving it into my backpack with the rest of my stuff and close up the study room.

She told me not to follow her, but if she’s going to get anything done before class on Friday, she’ll need this book.

I head toward the cafeteria. I think she usually comes here after using the study room.

Students mill about, talking and laughing and waiting in line for their lunch. I spot Oscar and his friends at their usual table.

I feel a pair of eyes boring into me from across the room and turn, hoping to meet Violet’s bright green defiant gaze.

Instead, a familiar pair of steely blue eyes take me in with predatory hunger. I know those eyes. I hate those eyes. Before I take in their owner, I turn, leaving the cafeteria and making a beeline for the gym.

I’ll just have to return Violet’s book to her later.

* * *

A couple of hours and many buckets of sweat later, I’ve worked off the worst of my jumbled mess of feelings. My muscles burn with the sweet ache of a good long workout.

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