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He slides off the bed and gathers himself. “Get some rest. I’ll text you tomorrow.”
I watch him walk out of my room like all of this is normal. Like I didn’t just ask a man I barely know not to break my heart.
Actually, if there’s one thing I do know about him, it’s that heisa heartbreaker.
13
XI
I Chose Violence – iamjakehill
“These things just evaporate into thin air, don’t they?” the shop owner tells me as he turns around to grab a plastic lighter for me.
“Sure do,” I mumble, checking the text from Logan telling me Tamar, Zara, and him are at his garage.
“Any specific color you want?”
“No.” But then I look up. “Actually, can I get that pink one?” I point to the one I mean.
Fucking shit. I’m a lovesick puppy desperate to be as close as possible to his owner.
The owner being Alexandra Delacroix and her obsession forpink.
“Sure thing. Dollar fifty.”
I put two dollars on the counter and leave.
An hour later, I’ve officially spent too long with my friends and have neglected the texts Emma has been sending me.
“Oh fuck no!” Zara screams just before throwing herself to the side, holding the PlayStation remote close to her.
“Moving your own body won’t save you,” I say. “Why don’t you learn how to play instead?”
Tamar laughs behind us before putting a bottle of beer in front of Zara.
We’re playing video games at the back of Logan’s garage while he works at the front. My phone beeps on his desk for the millionth time, and Tamar grabs it.
“Emma isn’t happy,” she tells me, dropping the phone on my lap. I look down at the countless texts and back up at the game.
“What does she want?” Zara asks before going back to biting her tongue, refocusing on the game.
“Updates on the Delacroix situation,” I say calmly, overtaking her on the circuit. I drop a banana just in front of her.
“Motherfucker!” she screams. “I fucking hate you.”
I win the fifth race in a row and throw the remote away. “I think we’ve established who owns your ass,” I chuckle.
“I have a gun on me right now,” she throws back. “Say that again,” Zara grunts.
“Oh, she’s tough,” I mock her, deadpan. “Gangster.”
“Remember when we were kids, and you were a decent person?” Zara pushes my shoulder. “I miss that guy.”
“Can’t say I remember him,” Tamar jumps in. “Are we talking about the same Xi?”
“Yeah, he went by Ziad back then.” She enunciates my name correctly, like my mom does.Zee-ad. “When people used to pronounce it well and shit.”
“Zi-ad is so American,” Tamar laughs. “Do you remember how to pronounce your own name?”
