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I winced as the girls scrambled to flee a restroom that they had every right to use in private. Knowing better than to question Lars, they fled, leaving me alone with a very enraged teenage male; one that locked the door after the last girl had run out the door.
Even though it made me look like a coward, I took a couple of steps back. “Look, I don’t know-”
“Did you honestly think that you could ditch me this morning, ignore me all day, and then flirt with Nordstrom, and us not have words, Edie?”
“I wasn’t flirting with Martin,” I denied, low-key admitting to the first two offenses.
“Bullshit!” he roared.
“He was asking me about what happened at the party,” I shot back. “He wasn’t flirting with me.”
“So, winking at you wasn’t flirting?” he challenged.
I blinked at that. “You saw him do that?”
That left eye of his started to twitch again. “Edie, I’m trying really hard not to lose my shit here, but every fucking word out of your mouth is making that impossible.” His voice sounded like he was two seconds away from snapping.
Erring on the side of caution, I said, “He heard a rumor that you almost beat up Max for talking to me at the party. I was just…correcting the details.”
“And this morning?” he asked, stepping towards me, forcing me to retreat until I was up against the counter. “What the fuck was this morning?”
“You know, there’s no law against me making new friends, Lars,” I huffed, trying to save face. “What’s the big deal if Calliope drives me to school?”
“That wasn’t the deal,” he said as he crowded me. “I have your car to driveyouaround, Edie. I have your car to be atyourservice. Otherwise, why do I need to have your car?”
“You’re not at my beck and call, Lars,” I pointed out, hugging my book to my chest. “I don’t like driving, so I don’t. It’s that simple.”
Lars arched a brow. “Wow, you must really think I’m a fucking idiot.”
I scowled. “What are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about how you’re really trying to convince me that ditching me this morning, ignoring me all day, and then flirting with fucking Nordstrom doesn’t have anything to do with you shutting the door in my face Friday night,” he said, and I tried not to cringe at him addressing the elephant in the room.
“I didn’t shut the door in your face,” I denied.
“The fuck you didn’t,” he argued.
Shaking my head, I asked, “Where are you going with all this, Lars? What are you so pissed off about?”
“We’re supposed to be friends, Edie,” he snapped. “No matter what happened Friday night, we’re supposed to be friends. So, I don’t appreciate myfrienddoing her best to avoid me because she doesn’t have the balls or maturity to confront me about what happened between us.”
That stung.
However, I wasn’t going to give him this particular victory, even though there was a lot of truth in his accusations. “What’s there to confront?” I challenged. “You kissed me, said it was a mistake, then we moved on with our lives. What’s there to discuss, Lars?”
His brows rose. “You seriously have nothing to say about what happened?”
I shrugged, pretending like this entire situation wasn’t shredding me to pieces. “Nothing more than what I’ve already said,” I lied.
Lars stepped closer to me, and if my book wasn’t hugged to my chest, our bodies would be flushed against each other, and while that would turn most girls on, Lars wasn’t trying to turn me on; he was trying to intimidate me the same way that he intimidated everyone else in this school.
I didn’t say anything as he set his textbook on the counter next to me, but then I yelped when he plucked my book from my hands, setting it on top of his. With nothing between us now, I reached back, then grabbed the lip of the counter, holding on for dear life. Whatever Lars was doing, I couldn’t see anything past the anger flaring in his prism-colored eyes. Lars’ hazel eyes had more flecks of green than brown, and they really were a beautiful color.
“So, you’re telling me that you have no opinion, one way or the other, about that kiss on Friday night?” he posed, making my heart race just a little.
Okay, maybe a lot.
Aiming for casualness, I asked, “What do you want me to say, Lars? It’s not like I have anyone else to compare you to. It could have been the best kiss in history or the worst; how would I know?”
