Page 25 of Enemy Games

We fell into silence while I stared down at my notes like they were suddenly the most interesting thing in the world.

What were we supposed to do now? We went over my classes and the project, so that was it. Right?

There was nothing left to talk about, and neither of us seemed to know how to continue the conversation. Why wasn’t he leaving?

A full minute passed, and I dared to peek up at him. He was still looking at his phone and seemed in no rush to go anywhere.

If he was anyone else, I’d take advantage of this chance to ask him more about my classes and the communications program here, but he wasn’t. He was Shaw.

Never in a million years did I think the two of us would be sitting across from each other having a normal, amicable conversation. I truly didn’t know how he didn’t recognize me. Not even a little bit.

After the first time I saw him, I texted my best friend, Michelle, from back home. She and I had known each other since elementary school, so she was well aware of my childhood bully even though we never went to school with him. Back then, she offered to go to hockey practice with me and give him a knuckle sandwich. While I loved her tenacity, she was about six inches shorter and thirty pounds smaller than him.

She wanted me to march up to him and tell him off for all the years of belittling, but we’d reached an awkward point where it would be weird for me to bring it up now.

Maybe I was waiting for him to remember, but it wasn’t likely to happen.

While he wasn’t paying attention, I lifted my phone as discreetly as possible, got a picture of him, and sent it to Michelle.

She replied with a row of devil emojis.

Michelle: I can’t believe you’re sitting with him. Have you let him have it yet?

Presley: No. I think I missed that opportunity.

Michelle: It’s never too late for revenge.

I wasn’t sure what she meant by that. I had absolutely zero intention of exacting revenge on Shaw for what he did to me.

First, that would make me seem like a crazy, desperate person, getting mad at something that happened when we were kids. I wasn’t. Crazy or desperate. Yet.

Second, that seemed like more energy than I wanted to give that man.

He might not be as bad as he once was, but that didn’t mean I had to forget what he did. Honestly, at this point I proved he was wrong, and I hadn’t thought of him in years. I probably wouldn’t have ever again if I didn’t end up at his school.

Michelle: He is hot though.

I rolled my eyes. Of course that’s what she would hang on to.

Michelle: You should date him then breakup with him once he’s in love with you.

Right, like the plot of most teen movies. No, thanks. Again, I didn’t have the time or energy to dedicate to him. I was barely hanging on already.

Presley: Pass.

Michelle: Is he coming to Green Lake?

Presley: Yeah. Both teams are.

Michelle: Good. Good.

I shook my head and put my phone back in my bag. She was all talk. I knew she wouldn’t say anything to him if she had the chance. The worst she would do was give him a nasty glare. Unfortunately, she was still a very petite person that wasn’t nearly as intimidating as she thought.

“Is there anything else I can help you with?”

I looked up at him, realizing he had collected his notebooks and was ready to leave.

“Oh no. I appreciate your help.”