Page 7 of Scandal

He doesn’t speak, so I press it. “Didn’t think you’d call a gay guy cute, not when you like smashing pussy with your bros.” Okay, so I might have been sitting on some hurt feelings from the other day, when Zander didn’t correct his friend’s use of ‘gay’ as a bad thing.

But my words do the trick.

Xander’s face is now the one that looks smacked. He seems to be chewing the insides of his cheeks, they are so far sunk in, his jaw is working overtime.

We’re locked in a stare down, broken only when he lets out a frustrated growl. His eyes slam shut and he turns away from me. His hands scrub roughly down his face and then with another growl, he swipes his backpack from the floor and stomps from the room.

When the door slams, my stomach sinks into a pit of guilt.Why should I feel bad?I try to coach myself, but it’s no use. My kryptonite is activated. Xander is clearly hurt, even though he hid it with anger. I can see that. And it was my words that did it.

Pulling on my sneakers and grabbing my keycard, I head out after him. The hallway is empty, and there is no way to know where he ran off to. What am I even doing anyway? What would I say if I found him?

I’m being stupid. Xander clearly doesn’t like me. He said I was cute in the same way an infant is cute. That doesn’t mean anything. I don’t owe this guy anything. I need to learn to ignore him. Which is hella hard, because of the hotness, and the way his fuck-boy cologne smells. That stuff is potent.

With a deep cleansing breath, I head back inside and decide to get start on my homework. Priorities, first. Damaged boys, second.I mean, never.

When I flop down on my bed, I feel something hard press into my leg and that’s when I just about die. How long did I leave Mister Big lying here? Oh. My. Fuck.

Chapter Two

Iterations

If at first, you don't succeed, call it version 1.0.

Xander

I’m trying not to be a total prick to the person I have to share a twelve-by-twelve room with. I really am. But today, it’s just a little bit fucking hard.

It’s all Cameron’s fault too. How the fuck is a guy turning me on?

Here’s the thing… I came back early from class because my head was fucking splitting in two and there was nothing happening in the lecture that mattered anyway, so I thought I’d lie down. But when I got back to our room, I saw something lying on his bed… Fuck, I can’t even think about it right now without feeling an overwhelming urge…

What I saw brought back every sordid desire I’ve ever had, times a thousand. How the fuck is that possible? I mean, Cam is so unlike everyone else here. In his own category. Scrappy. Sweet. I can read that much about. Like he fits in, but doesn't belong with these pricks. And thinking of his all soft like that... then seeing a fucking dildo... now I can’t stop thinking about how he uses that thing.Fuck.How he could use me... but no. I can’t think like that. I swore off women because I need to get myself under control. I assume that extends to guys too.

Then I called him cute, which seemed to piss him off. Andfuck, hedidoverhear Tanner, and now he knows I’m a total prick for not correcting the slur. Fucking great.

I beelined it the fuck out of there for an hour, but the room is empty now, and Cameron’s wet towel is hanging up. The dildo is hidden away again, and since I can’t stop thinking about how big and rainbow it was, I have to listen to my meditation video with a cold rag over my head and a bag of ice on my balls. If that doesn’t jolt me into behaving, nothing will.

A few hours later, Cam returns, but I’m under control now, more or less. He sits down without a word and starts working on homework. I try not to watch his screen, but I can’t help myself. The mistakes he’s making in his code are grating on me, and I want to stalk over there and fix everything. Instead, I text Nayla,Midnight,because I know she’ll drop everything and come distract me. I’m so damn selfish.

As if on cue, there’s a knock on the door a few minutes later. I lean over to grab the handle and pull it open a crack. “Hey, you.”

“You rang?” she cocks a brow at me and then looks over at Cameron. “Hey, you’re Cameron, right? I’m Nayla,” she calls out in a friendly voice, and he turns to give a polite smile and wave. He’s such a good boy. A total angel-faced sugar plum, and I’d love to wreck his beautiful face.What the fuck am I thinking?

“Come ‘ere,” I reach for Nayla and pull her down next to me and hug myself around her like I’m a boa constrictor.

“You have no sense of boundaries,” she squeaks out, struggling to breathe in my grip. I loosen it and she shifts away from me. “Should we, uh, go for a walk or something?”

Cameron whips around in his chair and gives us a conflicted look. “I can go for a walk, if you need to, um, use the room?” he says like it’s a question. I am quietly learning a lot about Cameron. Like that he always needs to please other people, and he’ll bend over backwards to make someone comfortable. And that he really wants to know whether I’m gay or straight. Man, if I was into guys, if this was three months ago, this kid would be serious in trouble.

Nayla and I give each other a long look at his question before we burst out laughing.

Cameron looks between us until we finally stop. His face is twisted in question.

“Let me let you in on a little secret, Cam, cause you seem like a great guy,” Nayla starts, and I shoot her a warning glance, which she easily ignores. “If you ever see me falling for this fuckface, you just call the mental hospital and turn me right in, okay? Promise me, Cam. Say you promise.”

He sputters the words, uncertainly, “I-I promise.”

“Good.” Nayla smirks, lying back across my chest.

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