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The bastard is laughing even more now. I keep walking, putting an end to our little conversation. I just want to get home, lie down on my bed and... close my eyes. But suddenly Alex is by my side, startling me. I thought he’d given up already. I didn’t think he’d keep following.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
“Are you going home?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll walk with you.”
“There’s no need. I know the way.”
“Your parents will be mad at me if I let you walk up alone.”
“Now you’re worried about what my parents think of you?” I say, looking into his eyes and instantly regretting it. Shit, those big black eyes. Those big black eyes were the ruin of me in the past.
“Of course. I always was. But that’s not the only reason. It’s after dark and you’re alone.”
“It’s safe, Alex,” I look away and start walking again. “And even if it wasn’t, why do you care? Go back to your redhead.”
“What redhead?”
I look at him again, this time with raised eyebrows. Really?
“There were quite a few in there. What’s it to you? Are you jealous?”
“No, Alex, I’m not jealous. I stopped being jealous of you a long time ago. And also, I have a purpose.”
Come on, Pris, ten more minutes and you’re home. Thirty-two streetlights.
“A purpose?”
“Exactly. I’m going to be here for a short time, I have eleven and a half weeks left, almost like the movie,”—Alex’s face says he has no idea what I’m talking about. I push on—“then I’ll be back in Boston, back to my life there, where neither you nor the redhead exist. So no, I’m not jealous, why would I be? I’m not going to waste my time on such things.”
“Is that resentment I’m hearing?”
I sigh loudly, but I don’t stop walking. In fact, I increase my pace.
“I was willing to try and get along with you but you didn’t want that, so now I think the best we can do is not talk to each other at all. Nothing. Not a single word. Just act like we don’t know each other. Like we’ve never even met.”
Like he’d care. It’s what he’s been doing these past weeks.
But my comment bothers him. I can see it in his eyes, in his demeanor. Probably he doesn’t like me putting distance between us, trying to ignore him. It’s like a stab to his pride. He was being mean to me on purpose and he didn’t expect this, I guess.
But a small voice inside me wonders... Could it be that he’s upset because you’re going back to Boston? No. No, that’s not possible. God, I just got back and my head is so messed up it doesn’t know what to think anymore. I just don’t know how to behave with him. He’s mad if I get close to him and he’s mad if I put some distance between us. Everything bothers him.
Five minutes to my home sweet home. Fifteen streetlights.
“Great, so you go back to Boston, to your happy life, and just like that this thing is solved, right?” he says, visibly upset.
“What thing?” I ask, confused.
“Our thing!”
“We don’t have a thing.”
“Oh, yes, I think we do.”
“Okay, that’s true.” We have unfinished business indeed. “And speaking of which, I haven’t received the papers yet. Do you want me to call my lawyer?”
