"What? I get cranky when I haven't eaten. It's nothing to be ashamed of." I want to throw something at him.
"Why are you here with me when you could be somewhere else with someone who's less annoyed with you?" I say.
He chuckles, and I cringe at my body's response to that sound. I need to make a note to try and make him laugh as little as possible. I can't handle the sound.
"But teasing you is fun. And you're not terrible to look at." This time I do grab a napkin, ball it up, and chuck it at him. I thought about tossing a plate, but I don't want to get arrested for assault at this stupid diner.
Of course he catches it and laughs again, and I hate myself a little.
"Violent when complimented, noted," he says.
"No, I'm just violent when stupid boys are annoying." I wish I could sound more mature, but I'm too irritated to be articulate.
"Aw, you like me. I can tell you like me. If you didn't, you probably would have no problems with telling me to go fuck myself and go away." Ugh, I hate that he's right. I have no problems speaking my mind. Under normal circumstances. But he's different, and it keeps getting worse. I need to not spend any time with this guy. Or as little as possible. For the most part, I only see him in practice and for workouts, so I can definitely limit my contact. Thank God we're not in the same stunt group or else I would never hear the end of it.
Rhett
Driving her up a wall is some of the most fun I've had in a while. She's cute as hell when she's irritated. And I'm a little relieved that even though she keeps telling me to go away, she voluntarily got in my truck. I'm going to tell myself she came with me for more than hunger. I don't know what it is about her, but I just really like being around her.
I've watched her at practice, and that has only made me more attracted to her. She works her ass off and is always the person to give a stunt one more try when it isn't working. She doesn't stop until she has it perfect. When the rest of the squad is hot and tired and discouraged, she's the first one to tell us to suck it up and do it right or don't do it at all. She's also funny and sweet and smart. All the qualities that I want in a girl. The fact that she's constantly annoyed by me doesn't bother me much. In fact, I actually prefer it. Makes life more interesting. What's life without a little challenge? I like a little blond bombshell challenge.
I reach for the bill before she can, and I get it since my arms are longer.
"You gonna pay for me?" she asks.
"You want me to?" I counter.
She shrugs one shoulder.
"Doesn't bother me either way. But I don't want you to think that you paying or not paying is symbolic of anything." I know exactly what she means, because I've also been thinking about it. I'm not dense enough to think that this is any kind of date, but the thought that she's been grappling with that is fun anyway.
"I don't think anything is symbolic of anything," I say, reaching into my wallet and pulling out some bills. I leave a tip along with the rest of the bill and stand up.
"You ready to go? I have class in less than an hour and I want to shower." She narrows her gorgeous eyes at me but gets up, crossing her arms as we head back out to my truck. Freya's all grumpy and cute, and I wish I could just spend the day with her. Outside of cheer, outside of running. Just the two of us hanging out and watching a movie or taking a walk. But I know she's definitely not up for that, so I'm going to take her back to her apartment and call it good.
"You can just drop me back at the field house," she says.
"No, I'll take you home. Save you some time. Or do you not want me to know where you live?" I ask and she rolls her eyes.
"Fine, whatever." She directs me to a small complex just off campus. The units don't look like anything special, and I'm a little surprised. I would have thought she would live in one of the newer buildings that has a pool and so forth.
"So, thanks," she says, with her hand on the door. Her eyes are telling me she wants to bolt, so I tell her goodbye and watch as she dives out of the truck, practically running to her front door. I honk, but she doesn't turn around.
* * *
I realize, as I drive back to my place, that I honestly don't know much about Freya. Sure, I know that she's an incredible dancer and her legs bend just a tiny bit on her second back handspring in a row, but I know little about her day-to-day life. What songs she listens to and how her apartment is decorated and which side of the bed she sleeps on. I mean, I'd like to know these things, but she's definitely not up for that.
Yet.
We'll see.
* * *
That night Jem calls and asks if he can come over for a drink, and I agree, even though I have a mountain of homework. He seemed like he needed to talk.