“No,” Mark continues, speaking fast. “I mean, that’s all I’ve done so farin college. I don’t mean that I’m against the idea of dating. I only mean I won’t date just anyone.”
“Okay?”
“So, if someone I’m interested in asks me out, I would be all for it,” Mark insists, leaning forward, resting his elbows against his knees.
“Right.”
“Right,” Mark echoes. He watches me, his heel bouncing—disturbing all the cats around the table—as he waits expectantly. “So?” he prompts.
“I wasn’t judging you, Mark,” I say. “Not everyone wants something serious.”
Mark leans back slowly, chest rising and falling as he takes in a deep breath and rubs his mouth. “I’m getting the bill,” he says. He curses under his breath as he walks away from the table. I think I hear, “I fucked that.”
He’s clearly irritated when he returns, and the cats keep their distance.
I eye him. “Do you have plans for the weekend?”
Mark’s gaze snaps to my face and the floor is spared from his scowl. “No. Nothing. Why? What are you doing?”
“Oh. I guess I won’t see you.”
Mark shifts in his seat, a confused expression flitting across his face. “What do you mean?”
“I’m going to the volleyball tournament—to watch and support. I thought you would be there.” I shrug.
“I’ll be there,” Mark says without missing a beat.
I steel myself internally. I don’t think I’m misreading Mark, but I’m nervous just the same. “Do you want to go for a drink together after?” It doesn’t sound any different from when I suggested coffee.Say it, say it, say it. My jaw tightens instead.
Mark’s eyes dart down, and I’m sure he sees me tense up. The kitten I’ve been playing with doesn’t seem to care and launches a vicious attack on my fingers.
“Just us?” Mark asks.
My jaw is still tight, and I’m too worried about what might come out if I unscrew it, so I nod instead.
Mark’s expression lights up. “Sounds good.”
Chapter Twelve
A few days ago, I was certain that Mark knew I liked him, but now I’m wavering. I’d begun to feel my actions more transparent, recently, especially since the onlytime I picked fights was when Mark was somehow involved, and anyone could figure out with a few questions that Mark hadn’t ever done anything bad to earn my ire. Actions could be transparent, and Mark was a smart guy.
But I wouldn’t, in a million years, look at the glare Tommy shoots in Mark’s direction and think, “maybe he has a crush?”.If someone looked at me like that, I’d think I’m about to be murdered.
From the bleachers, even though I can’t hear the team speaking, I know it’s a disaster. There’s a clear split, as if two separate teams have been mashed together, and I’m not even there to curse at Mark or anything.
Bethany gets to her feet and stretches with a big yawn. “What. A. Shitshow. Nobody can blame you for it anymore, Kyle.”
“Nope,” I agree, eyeing Mark. It hasn’t escaped my notice the source of the fighting has been Tommy and Mark bumping heads. Mark still has a shiner that Tommy inflicted at basketball practice. Tommy showed me the bruised ribs he’d ended up with at the end of that practice during the week.
“I’m going to go sort them out before we’re knocked out of the tournament,” Bethany says. She makes her way down the steps, leaving me to mind our spot. She passes by a familiar face, and I perk up, surprised to see my pretty study-buddy looking around the court.
I raise my hand, catching his eye. “Study buddy,” I greet him with a smile.
He nods at me but doesn’t smile or wave. I gesture to the seat Bethany vacated, and he climbs the stairs to join me.
“I see everyone’s being stupid,” he says. The cool contempt in his gaze reminds me of Mark’s regardfor Tommy. Did Mark look at me like that when he fought? I don’t think so. It has always been wildfires rather than blizzards when Mark and I grappled.
“This volleyball tournament might become fight club in a minute,” I joke. Bethany has reached the team and has stomped right into Eddie’s space to give out to him. There’s much discussion with the coach, and the end result is Tommy andMark being sent off the court.
