The worst part of it all was even though Drew insisted this wasn’t a big deal, and it really shouldn’t be because she hardly knew him, it was. It was a very big deal. Every day that week when she walked to the chess lab, her insides would knot up about the possibility of facing him again.
Even though she’d given up hope that he would show up this week at all, her insides were already knotting up as she took the walk of shame to the chess lab again. More than likely, he’d give it at least an entire week, if not more, then show up next week sometime and act as though nothing had happened.
As much as she dreaded facing him now, she almost wished he’d just show up already so she could get it over with. Just as she made it up the stairs of the physics building, she heard it.
“Charlee!”
Her heart was immediately at her throat when she turned and saw him hurrying toward her. Wish granted.
Trying desperately to push back the emotion that just seeing him brought on, she focused on trying to appear unfazed. His expression gave nothing away. She didn’t know what to make of it. The fact that he was hurrying toward her, however, could be a good thing. Had he missed seeing her as much as she’d missed him?
Instead of rushing up the stairs and pulling her to him like she’d begun to envision, he stopped at the bottom when he got to it. The dark 5th Street t-shirt he wore was a little on the snug side, and she could make out those abs and strong chest—the chest she’d been pressed up again that amazing night. “Can I talk to you for a second before we go in there?” He motioned to the doorway of the physics building where the lab was at.
Nodding and beginning to feel a little numb, she made her way back down the few steps, ignoring her tangling insides. Unlike Friday and all the other recent times she’d been around him, he now avoided making eye contact for longer than a few seconds. Charlee already had a very bad feeling about this.
They moved off to the side to avoid blocking the stairway, and then he said what he’d been in such a hurry to get to her for. “Does, uh,” he glanced back at the building. “Does anyone know about last Friday? Anyone from the chess team?”
She shook her head, staring at him, her stomach dropping because she knew now where this was going. “No.”
His relieved expression both confirmed it and mortified her, but she dare not show it. “Can we keep it that way?” His eyes met hers, and for a moment, she saw that tenderness she’d seen Friday night, but he glanced away quickly. “I mean I just don’t want things to get weird, you know?” He shrugged, looking back at her with a forced smirk, but his eyes were vacant now—cold. “Shit happens when you’re drinking and not thinking straight. People do things they shouldn’t. That’s all it was. But if you’re cool with it, we can pretend it never happened.”
Not falling apart. Not falling apart.
Feeling the air sucked out of her, she took a moment to gather her wits. As the realization of what he’d just said sunk in, the knots in her stomach unraveled into angry flaying whips. Just like last year, she’d been completely off the mark. Hector was no better than the other jerk who’d humiliated her so callously. Feeling a sudden rebellion like none she’d ever felt, Charlee smiled and began to move because she couldn’t stand there staring into those cold unfeeling eyes for even another second. “Not to worry, Hector. Your party wasn’t the only one I went to last weekend. I’d already forgotten about that.”
That sparked something in those unfeeling eyes, and the smirk he’d worn earlier was wiped clean. She could tell she’d stunned him into silence. Yeah, take that.
“Is that right?” He finally said as he walked alongside her.
She smiled as naturally as she could and fought the urge to stop right there and tell him off, but she didn’t. Instead she glanced at his hardened stare. It was the same one she’d seen last week when she checkmated his ass. Only instead of intimidating her as it had last week, this time it made her feel a little better.
Good. He probably expected her to be mortified or react the way she really wanted to and confirm that she really was different, just like he’d told her that night: different from all the whores he was usually with—prove what he’d obviously figured out that night. That he was the first guy she’d made out with ever. He’d messed with a prissy little virgin who was probably expecting much more from him now than all those other girls. Well, she’d be damned if she’d give him the pleasure. “Yep, I had an exhausting weekend.”
Charlee realized she was overcompensating—being rash. Drew could call it whatever the hell she wanted, but she was done being the martyr. From that moment on as she hurried up the stairs feeling the slow boil in her veins with a silent, brooding, Hector beside her, she vowed never to let heartless jerks bring her down again.
Hector opened the door for her, and she strutted by him, doing her best to ignore the scent of his cologne because the memory it induced nearly choked her. As soon as she entered the lab, she zeroed in on Damian, knowing from experience a game against him would take just as long as she intended on being there: long enough so that it wasn’t too obvious she wanted nothing more than to run out of there and as far away from Hector as she could A.S.A.P., but not too lengthy, because she wasn’t sure how much longer the indifferent act would hold up.
As expected, she played a crap game. It was impossible to concentrate while trying to disguise how she was feeling. Keeping her eyes off Hector hadn’t been difficult. She’d been terrified the entire time to even glance his way. The moment that Damian won, she shook his hand with a smile. “Good game.”