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“Is that what we’re doing now? An eye for an eye? If that’s the case, we'll both be blind before we see this through.”
“Why are you still here?”
“I thought I made that clear. You have something that belongs to me.” I hold out my hand. “Gimme my keys back.”
Glancing at my open palm, she smirks. “I lost 'em.”
“What?” I huff. “It’s been fourteen hours. How the hell did you lose them?”
Her shoulders shrug. “Threw them on my walk back to my dorm last night. You can go look around, but I doubt you’ll find 'em.” The casualty in her voice is unnerving.
“Fucking A, Scar.” My fingers weave through my sweat-infused hair before I lift my eyes. “You better be joking.”
I don’t know if she’s fucking with me right now or what, but for her sake, I hope it’s a joke.
“Gimme my damn keys or I will make it my mission to torture you the entire school year.”
“School hasn’t even started yet and you’re already well on your way.” She keeps walking, grinning. “Tell me what it is you want from me and maybe I’ll consider giving them back.”
She wants the truth. I’ll give it to her. “Easy. I want you miserably eating out of the palm of my hand.”
“Point made. You’ll torture the hell out of me all year whether I hand them over or not. Now that I know you want me to be miserable, I guess I have to force myself to be the exact opposite.” Her feet stop moving, books tucked in her arms as she turns to face me. “You can expect smiles and laughter from me for the rest of the year.”
“Bullshit. You enjoy being miserable too much. You love nothing more than to hide in your room and wallow in your own self-pity because your life is so damn bad.”
I know this girl better than she knows herself. Even when I was dating Maddie, I watched Scar from across the room, memorized every quirk, every facial expression, every blank stare. I know when she’s annoyed, when she’s angry, when she’s nervous.
Things changed, though. We’ve changed. Sure, Scar and I fucked—multiple times—but we got caught. Our relationship was exposed like an open wound that caused nothing but pain for both of us. That same day, more than one truth was revealed.
We reach the end of the trail to The Foxes' Den. Scar stops walking and turns to face me. “Maybe I wallow in my own self-pity, but at least I don’t drag others down with me.”
I smirk. “Misery loves company, baby.”
“I’d rather lie in an open grave with a dead body than be stuck in your company.” With her books held to her chest with one hand, she stuffs her other hand in the pocket of her baggy, shit-colored corduroy pants, and I hear the jingle of keys. She should only have one key to her room, not multiple ones that clank together.
“That mouth of yours is bound to get you into some serious trouble.” I look at her pocket and when my eyes slide up to hers, she’s watching me.
Her expression twists. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
I take one step toward her, slow and steady. “I can think of one way to shut you up. Save you some trouble.” And another step. She’s watching me closely. Knows I’m up to something. “It wasn’t long ago that you loved sucking my cock, Scar.” I quickly swoop an arm around her waist and pull her close. “I think you could love it again.”
Her hands come up between us, pushing on my chest. “Let go of me, asshole.”
She jerks and wiggles her body, causing me to tighten my hold on her. I forgot what a feisty little thing she is. “Give me my keys and I will.”
“You want them, then get them.”
There’s no way I can reach her pocket at this angle, so I take her down to the ground. Her textbooks fly out of her arms. My body cloaks hers, but she doesn’t give up the fight. She’s as stubborn as she’s always been. Never the type to give in or give up. She’s always doing the opposite of what she’s told to do, just to show everyone she can.
When we were eight years old and at a charity gala with our parents, she was told to sit at the kids’ table, even after arguing that she wasn’t a kid—clearly, she was. Scar forced crocodile tears and convinced full-grown adults to give up their seats, so she and Maddie could have them.
“Ya know, I kinda like it when you fight back. It’ll make it all the more satisfying when I wreck your world.”
“Not if I wreck yours first.” She reaches her hand between us and presses her thumb into my wounded arm.
“Bitch!” I bellow. “You’re gonna regret that.”
“Oh yeah?” She snorts. “You said the same thing last night, and I still have no regrets. In fact, I think you’re proving to be as weak as your performance in the bedroom.”
