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“Are they going to let her come?” My mother nods, leaving me stunned. I can’t believe uncle Parker allowed Luanna to apply to Moss. “That’s a miracle.”
I hear her sigh.
“I had to make some arrangements with your uncle, but it’s happening. I couldn’t let him send her off to a farm with her grandma when she has many potentials. Sure, she’s made some mistakes, but who hasn’t?”
Although Luanna and I are close, at least as close as we can be living in different places—I still don’t know her whole story. I know that she was in a private school with the best of the best, but something happened during the junior year that made her delay her educational process. Lu even left school for four months before my uncle shipped her off to a military academy in the middle of nowhere. As far as I know, she’s staying with her grandmother during the weekends and when the academy gives her a break. Now she’s finally getting away from her punishment—or torture.
“I’ll text her soon to know the deets. I can talk with the girls so she can stay with us until she gets settled,” I offer because I’d love to have Lu around for a while. Not only for her knowledge but because I’ve missed her a lot.
“That would be fantastic.” Her gaze shifts to attend someone nearby. She nods a couple of times and then turns to me. “I gotta go, but I’ll call you tonight.”
We say goodbye, and she blows me a kiss before hanging up. I put the phone in my back pocket and continue towards the cafeteria.
The place is filled with students, even though it’s only nine o’clock. It doesn’t matter how early it is. People concentrate on areas they can get cheap food, even if it’s not the best. However, even when it’s not gourmet, I’m a conformist and make the line to order a sandwich.
My next class is in the humanities building, and that’s ten minutes away from the cafeteria. My schedule is tight.
After I order, I take out my phone to entertain myself until my food is ready. It usually doesn’t take long, but I’m an impatient person. My head needs to focus on something, so I don’t feel how time stretches when I’m waiting.
“You’re the girl from last night.”
I raise my eyes from the screen and stumble upon John’s. He’s a mess with his morning hair and black eye bags, but he’s still hot as hell. I can’t see his tattoos because he’s wearing a black hoodie, but I remember them. The perfect mix of black ink with his pearly white skin is highly addictive.
Instinctually, I take a subtle glance over my shoulder. I confirm his words were indeed meant to me when I notice that the only ones that are behind me are deep in an interesting conversation about how one of them hasn’t had her period in over two months.
The topic seems intriguing, but I can’t listen to the rest of it when John is right in front of me, actually talking to me.
“I guess I am,” I finally say.
“You got lucky.”
Confusion clings to my face like a second skin. I didn’t see that one coming, not even in a million years. Hell, I would’ve expected him to ask me to move or something, but not that. I don’t completely understand what he means.
“What?”
“If I hadn’t been drunk, you wouldn’t have stood a chance,” John clarifies.
The audacity he must have to say that to my face. John Carter doesn’t know me to understand that I snap easily. I grew up with a rebellious player boy. I know precisely how to deflate his damn ego if I want to. I know what to say and how to defend myself if he keeps pushing my buttons.
“Excuse me?” I arch an eyebrow, crossing my arms over my abdomen.
John shrugs as if his comment wasn’t a big deal. Maybe it isn’t for him, but it is to me because I can sense the misogynistic undertone. This doesn’t have to do with me winning. I bet that if I was a guy, he would let it pass, or ignore it.
“I’m just saying that it would’ve been impossible for you to do that. It was probably a lucky strike.”
I laugh, not because it’s funny, but because it’s unbelievable. His comment is diminishing, and he’s trying to mansplain the situation to me. Iwasthere. I know my abilities, so why is he talking about them like he knows them?
“I have a pretty good aim.”
And a terrible taste in men,I add to myself, unable to believe that this is happening. My bubble about him has been bursted. He’s a fucking dick.
“I don’t buy it. Truth is you didn’t follow the two-beer limit to play.”
I scoff with irritation. I’ve had a rough morning, and he’s trying to test my temper.
God wants me to commit murder today because there’s no way that I can handle two assholes in less than an hour.
“Look, I get that you’re a terrible loser and that you’re the joke of your teammates.” The laughter in the back confirms my words. I raise my chin cunningly. “But I kicked your butt, and everyone saw it. So, take your beaten pride out of myfuckingface before I drag your sorry ass in front of your homies.”
