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“What’s wrong?” she asks.
I frown at her.
“I was hoping maybe you could tell me that.”Chapter SixteenDarcy“How did you figure it out?” I ask.
I sit down on the edge of the bed and watch him walk back and forth around the room. He looks at me, but I can’t read his expression. I can tell that he’s really fucking angry with me, though. My intention was never to make him look like an idiot. It was just a joke, a joke he thought he was playing on me. I never once thought he’d react like this.
“I saw a message from Mack on your phone when it came up on your lock screen,” he says. “So, I called Mack and made it sound like you’d already told me everything,” he explains. “It took about a minute to bluff the truth out of him.” He laughs bitterly. “I guess the joke is on me, huh?”
I frown at him. “Why are you so angry at me? This was your joke, remember.”
“I know that,” he snaps. “I’m just…” He sighs. “I thought we were done with the games.”
“You mean the game you were still playing?” I ask with a laugh. “You thought that I believed you were into crossdressing,” I say. “Explain to me, which game did you think was over?”
“I wanted to tell you the truth about that so many times,” he mutters.
“You can’t be mad at me for doing something that you were doing too,” I insist.
“Fine, just forget about it, okay?” He runs his hand through his hair, not meeting my eyes. “Maybe we should just head back home.”
Forget what, exactly?
Does he mean this argument or us? Or maybe everything?
I shake my head, because I can’t understand where all this anger is stemming from.
“Can we talk about this?” I plead with him. “Can we forget all the games and just be honest with how we feel?” I ask. “Don’t shut me out and treat me like the bad guy, because I’m not,” I growl.
“You’re right,” he sighs. “I’m the bad guy. I accept this is my fault, okay? It’s got nothing to do with you, so just...”
He shakes his head and picks up his bag, throwing it over his shoulder.
“Are you leaving with me?” he asks. “If you want to stay, fine. I’ll find my own way home.”
I stare at him, upset with the way he’s acting. How can he be angry at me, when all I did was exactly what he did to me? Is he that insecure that he can dish it out but not take it?
“Fine.” I snap, stalking past him and out the door. “Let’s go.”
If this is how he wants it, then that’s fine with me.The drive home it feels like the longest half hour of my life. Cam barely says a word to me the whole way. Instead, he just grips the wheel with both hands and stares straight ahead, that same intense look in his eyes. Even when he pulls up outside his apartment building, he doesn’t say anything to me.
Angry, I get out the moment he does and walk around the car. I get in and slam the door shut, then wait for him to grab his bag from the trunk. The moment he closes it, I drive off, without so much as a goodbye. I take off down the street, waiting until I’m around the corner, before I pull over. I take a minute to get my shit together.
“Fuck,” I hiss, slamming my hands down against the wheel.
I shake my head and laugh, because he’s frustrating the fuck out of me. All I wanted to do was beat him at his own game, and I did. But was it worth it if it meant losing him in the process?
This is the first time I’ve admitted to myself that I feel something for him. Between all these pranks and getting to know him, something has shifted in the way I feel about him. The question is, do I really want to be with someone who can’t admit he’s just as in the wrong as I am?
I walk inside, relieved that nobody is home. The last thing I feel like doing is talking to anyone, especially Mom. All she would have to do is look at me to know something was wrong and I don’t trust myself not to tell her everything. I trudge upstairs to my room and climb onto my bed, curling up under the covers. I can’t relax though, because Mom will also know something is wrong if she finds me in bed this early, when I was supposed to be spending the night away.
God, I really need to sort out a place of my own soon.I must have fallen asleep, because I wake up early Saturday morning. I glance at my clock and laugh, because it’s not even six. I don't have to work today, either, which makes being awake this early even less fun. I reach over and switch on the lamp, then I check my phone.
