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For a long time, there’s nothing but silence punctuated by the occasional turning of a page. I need to stop thinking about her so much. She’s a distraction from the things that truly matter, such as reviewing student evaluations. It’s easy to forget at times that I have an actual job to perform around here when I’m consumed with every move that girl makes.
It’s not until we sit down to dinner—pasta again, since my range of specialties isn’t very broad—that I know this mood of hers isn’t some passing fluke. I watch, torn between amusement and irritation, as she stabs a noodle like it insulted her mother. I suppose she’d have to first have a relationship with the woman to care very much, but then she’s never spoken of her. I can only assume there’s no love lost.
“What’s on your mind?” It’s the first thing either of us has said to the other outside the heads-up that dinner was ready.
She attempts a half-hearted shrug. “Nothing.”
Is this tonight’s game? Running around in circles? “You sure about that? Because it’s seemed since you came in that there’s something wrong. You’ve been very quiet.”
“So I don’t always want to talk. Is that a crime now?”
“Last I checked? No.”
“Then what’s the problem?” She still hasn’t looked at me.
“I don’t appreciate the silent hostility.”
“Who’s being hostile?” Finally, she pries her gaze from the plate, and there’s a world of accusations in her green eyes. The girl isn’t hostile. She’s hateful.
“You look like you’d enjoy sinking the bread knife into my chest.”
She snorts. “But what else is new?”
I watch her from the corner of my eye while continuing to eat. Could it be Quinton? If it is, he’s gone over and above his usual treatment. She doesn’t normally bring her frustration with him back to the apartment. I’m sure I would never have known he was rough with her the other day if it hadn’t been for him coming to my office. She’s a pro when it comes to concealing that sort of thing.
“Did somebody give you shit today?” I offer.
“Besides you? What would it matter if they did?” Now she laughs briefly, bitterly. “What, would you stop them? I’m sure.”
“Where is this coming from?”
“Oh, stop trying to gaslight me. You know, that’s really fucked up. After the way you and everybody else have treated me, now you’re going to sit here and act like I owe you something? Like I have no reason to ever be angry or upset. I’m surprised you even let me go to the library.”
Funny she should mention that since that’s what I wanted to ask her about. “Did something happen there?”
She rolls her eyes and makes a sour face. “Please. Like Brittney didn’t give you a full report.”
She did, naturally. How could I not use every pair of eyes at my disposal? “You know that’s part of the deal.”
“The deal where I can’t ever have even a minute of freedom.”
“The deal where I’ll allow you to use the facilities so long as someone is watching at all times.”
“Very generous,” she mutters.
“Is that what this is about? You don’t like feeling observed? I hate to tell you, but that’s not changing anytime soon.”
“You don’t hate to tell me that.”
“You know what? You’re right. I don’t. But unlike you, I’m trying to be polite this evening. You could maybe take a lesson, you know?” As it is, her backtalk has my temper on simmer. Much more of this, and I doubt I’ll be able to maintain a hint of civility.
“So long as you drop the fake niceness.”
“You don’t like it when I’m nice? No problem. I won’t be.”
“Good. It’s a lot more authentic than when you pretend to be concerned or whatever.”
I’m the one eyeing the bread knife now. It might be better to get it off the table before one of us makes a move for it. “Did something happen today? If so, it might be better for me to know about it.”
“What? You mean your buddy Q didn’t come running to you again?”
The disdain in her voice when she uses his nickname would be funny if the circumstances were different. She can’t be bothered to conceal her hatred. I suppose I can’t blame her for that. Even if she deserved everything she got.
“Should he have?” I ask. How easy would it be to reach across the table and shake it out of her? I have to remember what Lauren said about using her as an excuse to vent my ever-present rage. It’s like the girl was built to test and torment me.
“I’m sure he could have come up with something I did wrong. Like, God forbid, I was talking to his wife. Oh, no.” She rolls her eyes and pretends to gag.
“So there wasn’t any big blowup?”
“Do you make it a habit? Hooking up with the girls around school?”
