“You’re dumb,” I said.
“Me? You should have seen you. Abby couldn’t get out of here quick enough.”
I frowned. Abby didn’t seem in a hurry to me, but now that Shepley had said something, I remembered that she was pretty quiet when we got back. “You think so?”
Shepley laughed, stretching back in the chair and pulling the footrest up. “She hates you. Give it up.”
“She doesn’t hate me. I nailed that date—dinner.”
Shepley’s eyebrows shot up. “Date? Trav. What are you doing? Because if this is just a game to you and you f**k this up for me, I’m going to kill you in your sleep.”
I fell against the couch and grabbed the remote. “I don’t know what I’m doing, but I’m not doing that.”
Shepley looked confused. I wouldn’t let him see that I was just as baffled as he was.
“I wasn’t kidding,” he said, keeping his eyes on the TV screen. “I’ll smother you.”
“I heard you,” I snapped. The whole feeling-out-of-my-element thing was pissing me off, and then I had Pepé Le Pew over there threatening my death. Shepley with a crush was annoying. Shepley in love was almost intolerable.
“Remember Anya?”
“It’s not like that,” Shepley said, exasperated. “It’s different with Mare. She’s the one.”
“You know that after a couple of months?” I asked, dubious.
“I knew it when I saw her.”
I shook my head. I hated it when he was like this. Unicorns and butterflies flying out of his ass and hearts floating in the air. He always ended up getting his heart broken, and then I had to make sure he didn’t drink himself to death for six months solid. America seemed to like it, though.
Whatever. No woman could make me blubber and get slobbering drunk over losing her. If they didn’t stick around, they weren’t worth it anyway.
Shepley stood and stretched, and then ambled toward his room.
“You’re full of shit, Shep.”
“How would you know?” he asked.
He was right. I’d never been in love, but I couldn’t imagine it changing me that much.
I decided to turn in, too. I stripped down and lay back on the mattress in a huff. The second my head hit the pillow, I thought of Abby. Our conversation replayed verbatim in my mind. A few times she had showed a glint of interest. She didn’t totally hate me, and that helped me relax. I wasn’t exactly apologetic about my reputation, but she didn’t expect me to pretend. Women didn’t make me nervous. Abby made me feel distracted and focused at the same time. Agitated and relaxed. Pissed off and damn near giddy. I’d never felt so at odds with myself. Something about that feeling made me want to be around her more.
After two hours of staring at the ceiling, wondering if I would see her the next day, I decided to get up and find the bottle of Jack Daniel’s in the kitchen.
The shot glasses were clean in the dishwasher, so I pulled out one and filled it to the brim. After hammering it back, I poured another. I tossed it back, set the glass in the sink, and turned around. Shepley stood in his doorway with a smirk on his face.
“And so it begins.”
“The day you appeared on our family tree, I wanted to cut it down.”
Shepley laughed once and shut his door.
I trudged to my bedroom, pissed that I couldn’t argue.
MORNING CLASSES TOOK FOREVER, AND I WAS A LITTLE disgusted with myself that I had all but run to the cafeteria. I didn’t even know if Abby would be there.
But, she was.
Brazil was sitting directly across from her, chatting it up with Shepley. A smirk touched my face, and then I sighed, both relieved and resigned to the fact that I was lame.
The lunch lady filled my tray with god-knows-what, and then I walked over to the table, standing directly across from Abby.
“You’re sittin’ in my chair, Brazil.”
“Oh, is she one of your girls, Trav?”
Abby shook her head. “Absolutely not.”
I waited, and then Brazil complied, taking his tray to an empty seat at the end of the long table.
“What’s up, Pidge?” I asked, waiting for her to spit venom in my direction. To my extreme surprise, she showed no signs of anger.
“What is that?” She stared at my tray.
I looked down at the steaming concoction. She was making random conversation. Yet another good sign. “The cafeteria ladies scare me. I’m not about to critique their cooking skills.”
Abby watched me poke around with my fork for something edible, and then seemed distracted by the murmurings of those around us. Granted, it was new for my fellow students to see me make a fuss over sitting across from someone. I still wasn’t sure why I did.
“Ugh . . . that bio test is after lunch.” America groaned.
“Did you study?” Abby asked.
America’s nose wrinkled. “God, no. I spent the night reassuring my boyfriend that you weren’t going to sleep with Travis.”
Shepley immediately became sullen at the mention of the previous night’s conversation.
The football players seated at the end of our table quieted down to hear our conversation, and Abby sunk down into her seat, shooting a glare at America.
She was embarrassed. For whatever reason, she was mortified by any attention whatsoever.
America ignored Abby and nudged Shepley with her shoulder, but Shepley’s frown didn’t fade.
“Jesus, Shep. You’ve got it that bad, huh?” I threw a packet of ketchup at him, trying to lighten the mood. The surrounding students turned their attention to Shepley and America then, hoping for something to talk about.
Shepley didn’t answer, but Abby’s gray eyes peeked up at me over a small smile. I was on a roll today. She couldn’t hate me if she tried. I don’t know why I was so worried. It wasn’t like I wanted to date her or anything. She just seemed like the perfect platonic experiment. She was basically a good girl—albeit slightly angry—and didn’t need me f**king up her five-year plan. If she had one.
America rubbed Shepley’s back. “He’s going to be okay. It’s just going to take him a while to believe Abby is resistant to your charms.”
“I haven’t tried to charm her,” I said. I was just getting ahead, and America was sinking my battleship. “She’s my friend.”
Abby looked to Shepley. “I told you. You have nothing to worry about.”
Shepley met Abby’s eyes, and then his expression smoothed. Crisis averted. Abby saved the day.
I waited for a minute, trying to think of something to say. I wanted to ask Abby to come over later, but it would be lame after America’s comment. A brilliant idea popped into my head, and I didn’t hesitate. “Did you study?”
Abby frowned. “No amount of studying is going to help me with biology. It’s just not something I can wrap my head around.”
I stood, nodding toward the door. “C’mon.”
“What?”
“Let’s go get your notes. I’m going to help you study.”
“Travis . . .”
“Get your ass up, Pidge. You’re gonna ace that test.”
The next three seconds might have been the longest of my life. Abby finally stood. She passed America and tugged on her hair. “See you in class, Mare.”
She smiled. “I’ll save you a seat. I’ll need all the help I can get.”