Page 93 of Withered

“No,” he answers quickly, his cheeks blushing a faint shade of red.

I gaze at him, stunned, and it dawns on me. I burst into laughter, clutching my stomach. My eyes tear up.

“Oh, you were.” I manage to speak in between gasps of laughter.

“Fine. But it wasn’t just me.” He shrugs and continues, “I was tired and suggested we call it a day.”

“Start preparing for the worst, Henderson,” I say. Coach is going to suck their blood out.

He clears his throat, and my eyes meet his. That goddamn smirk is enough to let me know he caught me staring again.

“So, what were you doing?” He’s looking at the mess I made on my bed.

“Assignments.” I shrug.

“Nerd,” he mutters under his breath.

I squint at him and say, “You’re a jerk.”

“I’m not,” he scoffs like a toddler.

I glare at him hard, and he rolls his eyes. “Fine. I am. But I like calling you a nerd. You look so adorable in those glasses.”

I roll my eyes. “I don’t have glasses. I put them on because I like them.”

“Why?” He asks, intrigued.

“I’m not sure. At one point, I felt like wearing them. They went with my overall nerdy personality,” I tell him.

He nods.

“Jake, dinner’s ready.” I hear Esme, Jake’s mom’s faint voice.

“Later, Evans,” he says it with a small nod, and I wave him goodbye. He steps off the ledge and walks away.

“Rose,” Jake calls, turning around.

“Yeah?” I love it when he calls me Rose. That sexy accent rolls off his tongue perfectly.

“I’ll pick you up tomorrow too,” he tells me, then walks off, not waiting for my answer. Not that I was going to deny it.

As the chilly breeze blows against my window, I smile and close it.

I wake up with my ringtone blaring from my phone. I yawn as I sit on my bed for a second. It suddenly dawns on me that Jake is going to pick me up.

I fall back on my bed and bury my face in my blanket, clearly not in the mood to get out of bed.

“Rose, are you up?” Mom calls from outside my door.

“Yes. I am up,” I shout in my sleepy voice. Her footsteps fade away, telling me she left.

I get up, swaying a little, on my way to the bathroom. I get ready in my undergarments in twenty minutes, rummaging through my closet for something decent to wear.

I pick a cute plain black full-sleeve shirt and pair it with a white skirt that I got yesterday. My legs look longer than usual, so I wear black-and-white striped socks with boots. Once I’m ready, I take my bag and go downstairs to see both Mom and Dad having breakfast.

“Morning Dad. Morning Mom,” I greet as I take a seat.

“You look great, kiddo,” Dad compliments me. He’s reading a file, while Mom is reading a newspaper.

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