Inseparable
Page 57
“I must have missed that one.”
She rubbed her hands together. I could tell she was nervous.
“Let me just let Sandy know where I am. She found some friends of hers so I don’t have to worry about her.” As she pulled her phone from her back pocket I thought how happy that little device must have been so close to her ass.
“You don’t trust me?”
With glittering blue eyes that seemed to flash darkly for a split second, she smiled.
“No. I don’t.” Her giggle was condescending.
My chest tightened at the words. There was a brutal honesty to her reply.
After a nod that her message had been received, Telu
la put the phone back in her pocket and looked up at me. She studied me, waiting for me to make a move.
I couldn’t say for sure what was holding me back. The fact that I wanted to stare at her for as long as possible couldn’t be it. I was not that guy. Maybe I was coming down with a fever or something.
“All right. Follow me.” I jerked my head and lead the way out of my room, sure to lock it up behind us. The last thing I wanted was to find someone’s DNA cocktail smeared on my bed sheets.
“Aren’t you worried about leaving your party?” She inquired.
“Why would I be?”
“Well, some of the kids there are not your friends. Aren’t you worried they might damage the place?”
“It wouldn’t be the first time.” I chuckled as I recalled an epic trashing my house took for a party last year. It got way out of hand. “But that’s what insurance is for.”
“Aren’t you worried what your dad will do?”
"Why do you care?" The words came out sharp. A sensation of dominance crept up from my feet as if it had been waiting there for the right time to spring to life. It wove up my legs and to my chest but stopped short of my brain. Had it continued it would have wrapped over, around and through my brain. Telula's face stared back at me blankly. I didn't know what to do.
“You’re right. I shouldn’t care.”
She’s walking away. Don’t let her walk away. You don’t want her to walk away. Not yet. My thoughts hissed.
“Wait!”
Telula stopped but didn’t turn around.
“I’m sorry. That was rude.”
She put her hands on her hips but I was still looking at her back.
"No one ever asked what my dad thought," I mumbled. "You just caught me off guard. It's like you sat me down for a pop quiz or something and I realized I didn't have a number two pencil."
Finally, she turned around and looked at me as if I’d sprouted a third eye.
I smirked confidently and shrugged my shoulders with relief as her smile tore away the weeds clogging my thoughts.
“Is one of these rooms your dad’s room?”
"Yes. The one at the end of the hall. Those double doors."
“You don’t mind people up in there doing Lord knows what unholy things?”
“Better there than in my room.”