Page 31 of The Cabin

“Great. I’m gonna go take a shower.” He saunters off, feeling very proud of his win I’m sure. Yeah, we’ll see about that.

—

I’m all cozied up in Grayson’s room ready to get some good ol’ fashion shut eye when I hear the metaphorical bell confirming that I, in fact, won this round.

“Sol! What the fuck is this?” A devious smile graces my lips. Check. Mate.

Grayson comes storming into the bedroom, hands on his hips, lookingohso serious. Big tough guy got outsmarted. Poor baby.

“Why is the mattress in the living room?” He’s fuming, it makes his voice do that raspy thing again.

“I agreed to take the bedroom, I did not agree to taking the bed.” I wish I had a picture of my face right now because I’ve gotta be giving one of the best smirks of my sass career to date.

He’s speechless. I can see him battling with a million thoughts at once. A lot of them are probably expletives and he doesn’t know which one to let rip first. His jaw is clenched and I can tell he’s grinding his teeth. Ooh, Angry Grayson. Add that to the list. Actually, one quick edit: Hot Angry Grayson. Because I feel like there’s probably a Serious Angry Grayson, so let’s keep our options open.

“Can you close the door on your way out?” I lean over my makeshift bed on the floor and turn out the light. It’s less badass than I want it to be because I have to reach all the way up to the side table it’s on from the floor, but whatever.

“You are the most infuriating person I know.”

He shoves the door shut right as I call out, “Ditto!”

Chapter 12

The theme of the day: revenge. Grayson and I have been bickering and messing with each other every chance we’ve gotten. I may have started this war off on a high with the mattress incident, setting the tone for the last twelve hours or so, but man does this lumberjack put up a good fight. So far I’ve had an actual bucket of water dumped on my head from over a door jamb (How did he pull that off?), I had my current book stolen and searched for it forever before Grayson played the most obnoxious game of Hot and Cold with me until I found it in a sandwich bag in the tank of the toilet, and found all my leggings tied together when I tried to pull one out after getting soaked by the bucket. I have a sneaky suspicion he spent the entire night mapping out his attacks. While I, on the other hand, was sleeping. Like a sane person.

Do not worry, though, ye of little faith. I have managed to win several battles of my own despite the lack of preparation time. Teachers thrive with a lack of preparation time.

When he came around the corner looking for his phone earlier, I egged the shit out of him, throwing the contents of an entire carton of eggs at him until it was empty. The look on his face? Priceless. I swapped the dishwasher pod out (that he always preloads because he’s neurotic) for an obscene amount of dish soap so when he came back twenty minutes after turning the thing on, there were bubbles completely flooding the kitchen. Score! And I’m currently sitting on the couch brainstorming my next move, determined to be the champion in all of this.

“Let’s make a bet.” Grayson comes slinking around the corner, an obvious scheme cooking in his brain.

“A bet for what?”

“Ambersia is having their county fair today.” Ambersia is on the opposite side of us compared to where Surley is.

“And…?”

“And I heard they always have a mechanical bull.” My eyes narrow. “And I bet you I can stay on longer than you can.”

Get real. I don’t stand a chance. Have you seen his abs? His biceps? His thighs? His back? I can keep going…

“And what does the winner get?”

“The winner gets to pick a tattoo that the loser has to get.”

I am very panicked but I try to keep my face neutral. “And in the event of a tie?”

He shrugs. “Then the bet is off. Call it even.”

“No way! If there’s a tie we both have to get a tattoo of the other person’s choosing.”

He sizes me up, blatantly writing me off as a non-threat. “Fine. Let’s shake on it.”

—

“Woo! That’s strong.” Manure, everywhere. Anywhere you look, there’s something that shits. This is going to sound really bizarre, but I kinda like the smell. Reminds me of riding in the car with my dad. I think that’s probably weird. Anyway.

“Very.” Grayson heads through the entrance and we follow the natural flow of traffic through the fair. I am so freaking nervous. I don’t care about losing. I’ll get whatever freaking tattoo you want me to get. But I do not wanna get on that freaking bull. I cannot think of anything more embarrassing than getting up there with a crowd of people watching as your whole body jiggles and flops around until you fall into a heap on the mat. What is fun about that? I’m also very hesitant about doing things I’ve never done before. I like to know what’s coming. I like to…well…feel comfortable.

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