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“You know, Rajid, maybe you think—”
“I like you,” he asserts, expression more serious than ever. “Since the first day of school. I hate that Decker is into you, though I understand why. You’re sweet. Genuine.” He inches closer. “Kayla, Decker has a psychological issue that makes it hard for him to do this.” He grasps my hand and traces my knuckles with his thumb. “Wouldn’t you rather have that with someone normal?”
I pull my hand away and shuffle back.
But it’s too late.
The familiar intensity is submerging me—a ball of blackness on the threshold of an explosion.
At his low growl, Rajid and I snap our heads in the direction at the same time.
I wince at Brandon’s irate appearance. His fists are clenched, ready to pounce.
“She’s mine,” he growls and stomps forward.
Fearful of what he might do to Rajid, I move in front of him with my hand outstretched.
Brandon stops and glares at me.
“Out of the way,” he demands.
“No,” I grit. “You need to calm down. I won’t let you attack Rajid.”
Accusation filters into his gaze. “Because you like him?”
I throw my hands up. “Because of what you’ve done to others! You have a pattern of overreacting.”
Rajid chimes in, “Kayla, he’s—”
“Don’t speak her name!” Brandon barks. He looks at me again, beyond angry. “Come with me.”
He turns to walk away but pauses when he realizes I’m not moving and peers over his shoulder. “Kayla.”
“No.” I fold my arms and remain in the spot.
The veins in his neck bulge so much I fear they’ll pop. My defiance frustrates him, and as he huffs and stomps off, I know I’m in for it later.
“Has Decker ever hurt you?” Rajid asks, drawing my attention.
I slant to him and shake my head. Brandon only hurts me in a dirty way that pleases the naughty side of me I never realized I had.
“You shouldn’t be with someone like that, Kayla,” he advises. “Decker is fucking weird. He’s territorial and acts like an animal when anyone so much as brushes him. You seriously want a caveman?”
“He’s misunderstood,” I argue. “Brandon has a lot going on underneath. Regardless, I like him.”
His face falls at my admission. “Wow.” He rubs the nape of his neck.
“Rajid, you and I can’t be anything more, and I don’t want to affect your friendship with Sam. I hope you both will be all right again.”
He slowly nods. “We’ll figure it out.”
With that, he walks away.
I continue toward the library, the entire time thinking about Brandon’s anger when I refused to go with him. I’m amazed by how warm I feel by the fact that he may take it out on my body later.
“Listen up, artists,” Ms. Jung announces the second she enters the room. “It’s almost that time.” She hasn’t even explained, yet excited chortles erupt. I’m the only one confused.
“So,” Ms. Jung goes on, “my annual art exhibition is approaching, and as always, I’ll be selecting five students from each of my classes to show their best work.”
