Why did the mention of Scarlett make me tense up and he didn’t even say her name?
I’ve gotten to know her a lot more in the past year with our friend groups being so close, but she would cut off my balls if I tried to look at her outside class or when our groups are forced to hang out.
She seems to hate me whenever we’re in the same room, but it’s hard to take her seriously when she tried to kidnap me a few weeks ago and accused me of stealing her ridiculous whiteboard.
It doesn’t help that our families have been deep in competition for decades. She’s a smartass and is always trying to one-up me in class but I let her. She hates me and I act like I hate her too. It’s how we work. What she doesn’t know is that we’re a lot more alike than she wants to admit.
“Yeah,” I say finally, swallowing the ball in my throat. “Only their daughter, though. She’s in my class, and one of her best friends is dating my housemate.”
“Great,” he begins. He pauses, murmuring to himself before meeting my gaze. “I’m sure you know that her dad’s in the hospital, don’t you? Well, he has been for weeks.”
I nod but he doesn’t follow it up with anything. “You…We…We didn’t have anything to do with that, did we? I know he’s seen as a threat, but I once caught him shrieking over a bee at an event. So, he seems harmless.”
He cuts my rambling with a wave of his hand in the air. “No, Evan, we – or anyone we’re associated with – didn’t have anything to do with it. That’s the problem. We’re his biggest competitors so itseemslike we had something to do with it. I can assure you that we didnot.It’s too much of a coincidence that around the time things started getting heated with their family, he mysteriously fell into a coma, but none of us were responsible.”
“And what do you want me to do about it?” I ask wearily.
“If you know his daughter, try, and get closer to her and find out what she thinks. If we can get a lead in this, we can find a way to take him downbeforeit hits the press,” my dad explains, his eyes lighting up with the same fire and intensity as it always does when competition is in the mix.
“I, uh, I don't know if I can do that,” I respond, taking a generous sip of my drink.
“Why not? You want to be back in don't you?”
“Yes. Of course, I do. More than anything. But isn't there a way we can do this without hurting anyone. Scarlett’s…” God, how do you describe the same girl who threatened to punch me in the dick when I spat out her cookies which she forced us eat at the BBQ we had in summer. The same girl who shoved bacon in my face last Christmas, yet still had it in her to drive my drunk ass home afterwards. I can’t tell my dad that. So, I lie. “She's different from them.She’s a handful, she’s snarky and competitive. But, beneath that… she’s nice is all I mean.”
“Youdon't have to play nice, Evan. If you want this badly enough, you’ll find a way to get more information without breaking her heart if that’s what you’re worried about.”
It’s one of the many things I’m worried about when it comes to her.
* * *
After Charles drops me off back home, I try to rack my brain for some sort of game-plan. I can’t just start texting her out of nowhere to get her to speak to me. Fuck. I don’t think Miles would even trust me with her number. Z probably has it, but he can’t keep a secret to save his life. Instead, I settle for the easiest option which is to wait for Miles and Xavier’s next hockey game, which Wren will drag her to and ambush her then.
“Do you know how to play the game, dude? How are you losing with the best squad in the game?” Miles shouts to Xavier as I walk behind the couch to the kitchen.
They continue shouting at each other until I sit down on the couch across from them with my tie loosened and a bottle of water in my hand. My dad and I had a huge steak dinner and I’m exhausted. Xavier shoots me a glance then turns back to the screen. Then back to me.
“You’re back already?” he asks, turning back to the screen again as his fingers fly over the buttons.
“I was gone for three hours, you idiots,” I retort.
“Oh,” Miles says.
“Have you really been playing this entire time?” I ask. They both nod in unison before Miles turns to me for a split second while Xavier takes a penalty on the screen.
“It's a no-breaks-allowed kind of game,” he replies, howling at the screen when Xavier ’s goal goes in.
“What if one of you needs to take a leak?”
“That’s what the buckets are for,” Xavier replies, nodding his head to a bucket I hadn’t noticed was there and I grimace. “I’m kidding. That’s where we catch our trick shots with the ping-pong ball, obviously.”
“Right.Obviously,” I respond sarcastically. Every day I learn something new about the people I live with. The game ends and Miles sighs heavily at his defeat as he turns to me.
“Wanna play?”
I pause for a second before nodding. Why the hell not? He throws the controller at me and walks me through the first few steps of the game.
I look from the controller to the screen every few seconds as I watch the avatar move around in a zigzag. I try to gain control, but Xavier is not going easy on me, and he tackles me as he shoots into the net, earning me a loud whoop in response.
