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I can’t push her away anymore.
She’s too fucking magnetic.
We’re too magnetic together, it doesn’t work.
I think it’s time I finally stake a claim on my girl and whatever comes afterwards can get fucked.
Theodore: Rule number six – wait for me
TWENTY-SEVEN
Ispendthedayhiding out in my dorm, not wanting to deal with Theodore after last night. My annoyance at him right now knows no bounds, and if I find myself in his vicinity, I’m not sure whether I’ll run away or just kick him in the balls for being a vagina tease.
I offered him my friendship and he might as well have spat in my face. Yet, when he wants to take something from me, I’m supposed to just give in? Fuck that.
While my body may want everything he’s offering, I’m not sure the rest of me can handle him.
“Perfect,” the make-up artist gushes, swiping the brush in her hand over my face once more. She’s been at it for the last hour and a half, and I’m more than worried about the finished product, considering all the colours she’s slapped onto my face. “What do you think?”
She holds a mirror up to my face, and I barely hold back the laugh that wants to burst free. Whatever she’s done to me, I look like a colourful racoon. I highly doubt this is the look my mother was going for when she hired her. My eyes are painted in purples and pinks which look more like a child’s painting than a professional make-up artist’s work and the orange blush she’s spread across my cheeks looks awful.
“What the fuck happened to you?” Gage rudely blurts out when he bounds into my room holding a box in his hand. My cheeks flush when he laughs while staring at me.
The poor woman is staring at him with a confused expression, unaware that he’s laughing at her handiwork. Which is probably a good thing.
“It’s lovely, thank you,” I tell her in the hopes she’ll pack up her stuff and get a move on so I can wipe this shit off my face. I turn to Gage, pinning him with a glare while mouthing to him,You’re rude.
He only shrugs, offering the box out to me. I grab it from him before whacking him in the head with it. Thankfully, the make-up artist is gone by the time I get my new phone out of its packaging.
“You’re a superstar.”
“Obviously, though maybe try not to break this one. That cost your dad a pretty penny.”
“Please, as if he’ll even notice,” I comment, placing it safely on the desk. My old phone sits in tatters, the screen shattered beyond repair, thanks to my mother. Yes, I threw it, but she stressed me out so the blame lays at her feet. “Don’t you have better things to do with your Friday afternoon than hang out on my bed, reading my books?”
“Nope,” he tells me, flipping through the pages of my Genevieve Jasper book. He looks perfectly at home, and when he nestles down on my pillow, pulling the duvet over his long frame, I know he’s staying here for the long haul.
“Seriously, go annoy Theodore or something.”
“He’s not in,” he tells me, rolling onto his side. His eyes flick to mine, and he shrugs. “He was getting all dolled up earlier, got himself a hot date.”
The hand wiping my make-up away halts mid-swipe, and I’m pretty sure my heart stops beating. I’m not stupid enough to believe Theodore never dates, but I’ve never let myself think about it.
Especially not with everything that’s happened between the two of us since I got here.
“Shit,” Gage mumbles, sitting up and staring at me with a wry smile. He goes to speak again, but I shake him off with a wave of my hand.
“It’s fine,” I tell him, lying through my teeth.
I feel anything but fine.
“Of course he’s got a date on a Friday night, why wouldn’t he?”
The knock comes at my door at six thirty exactly. I quickly glance at myself in the mirror, glaring at the reflection that stares back at me. The dress my mother had sent over might as well be a piece of negligée for all it covers.
The red satin slip falls in a v on my chest, while the skirt barely skims past my underwear. If I bend over, anyone behind me will get a show.
Yet another thing that feels wholly inappropriate about this entire thing.
