“You ditched me for ice cream?” I ask.
“What?” he breathes, and something is off in his voice.
“There’s ice cream on your shirt.” I tug at the center then have the gall to lean forward and sniff. “Mint chocolate chip. The toothpaste flavor. Refreshing.”
“I didn’t mean to ditch you, sugar,” he notes, that unusual tone lingering. What’s off?
“Is something wrong?” I ask.
He clears his throat, and his voice goes normal again. “No. Why?”
“Because something seems wrong.”
“Oh.” He ruffles his hair. “Is something wrong with you? You seemed pretty upset up there, even before you saw me.”
I turn my attention to the stage, and with a mere glance, a hundred comments come flooding through my mind. I wince, mumbling, “He was doing it wrong.”
“So what you’re saying is…” A touch of something soft changes the air, then Lex curls a finger beneath my chin, drawing my attention. “Your second option is far moreappealing.”
This idiot.
I let a bitter smile curl my lips.
As if he’s mysecondoption.
“Oh?” I say.
Lex’s eyes glitter, and there’s hope and mischief coiling in them, a sprinkle of something bitter to connect with my smile. “Become mine.” His finger strokes falling away to clench into a fist at his side. He lifts his gaze skyward, like he’s addressing the whole of the world. “I’ve a score to settle in this town, and seeing as you could nearly best me, I think you’d be perfect for the job.”
I stretch my back and plant my hands on my hips, snarling, “You can’t very well keep me on a leash.”
Lex’s gaze flashes toward mine, a smile growing across his face that says, Oh? Can’t I?“I want revenge; you want money. I’m willing to pay for your…” He scans me, head to toe, then toe to head. “…services.”
I let a moment of thought cross my expression, harden it.Jo. If I make this deal, I can still get us both out. “I’m listening. What is it you want me to do?”
Before I can add,And for how much? Lex says, “Get muffins with me.”
I blink. Then I pout. “Unless we’re actually on a stage, you have chronic Butcher My Lines, don’t you?”
“Is that a ‘no’?”
My fingers find their way to a braid, and I sigh. “It’s not.” After all, I was the one to ask in the first place. I thought he forgot. “When should we go?”
Lex
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Next Wednesday, after class?
I am out of my mind. I know that. I’ve known that from the moment I walked into the auditorium late last Wednesday and saw Calypso with a Kenneth who wasn’t me, their faces too close, his grip too tight.
It’sacting. It’s all just acting, and maybe the rage and unsettle that rushed through my chest and stomach proves my father is right and I’m not yet professional enough to handle this career. Or maybe it just proves what I feel for Calypso goes past everything I thought I believed.
You have to either decide what you want or face being too late.
Dang it, Jason.
Did he have to leave me with those foreboding words right before I walked in on Marcus man-handling my sugar glider? The thought of her being adopted by someone else messes with me in ways I don’t want to admit. At least not out loud.
