Playing with Fire

I spotted Grace a couple times during my stalking.

One time, she was coming home from a shift at the food truck. Sensing being watched, she turned around and impaled me with a death glare.

I pretended not to notice her, and drove off.

Another time, she threw a goodbye party for Marla. I saw Mrs. Contreras, Karlie, and a few other people through the window. Grace made Marla cupcakes and delivered a pretty neat speech (yeah, I creeped around long enough to listen to most of it).

Eventually, Marla got out of the house and trudged over to me, spotting me from way across the street. The old lady clutched my arm in her bloated, oily hand and shook it as hard as she could.

“I heard what you did to Grace, and I’m here to tell ya just because I’m movin’ to Florida don’t mean I won’t be watchin’ her, makin’ sure she’s okay. You better turn around and go back to the hellhole you came from, because if I hear you’re following her, I swear to God I’ll tell Sheriff Jones, and make sure he kicks your butt outta town. And if that don’t work, just remember: shotgun. I ain’t afraid to use it.”

As dearly as I wanted to see Grace, it was pretty obvious the feeling wasn’t mutual.

The clock ticked more slowly as Friday approached. I couldn’t wait to get it over with so I could finally talk to Tex, explain myself, and beg for forgiveness. I wasn’t so stupid as to think I’d actually get another chance. All I wanted was for her not to think she was nothing but a fucking Band-Aid.

East and Reign told me I would be stupid to get in the ring. My mind wasn’t in the game; it was with Grace.

Even Max said if I knew what was best for me, I’d skip town.

But I stayed, if only to lay eyes on Tex a few more times before school ended.

Wearing that little negligee, playing Blanche.

Thriving as I fell apart.

Grace

I got back to working at the food truck two days after the cafeteria incident.

I couldn’t afford the luxury of taking time off, even if that was exactly what I wanted to do. Luckily, Karlie had taken care of the West situation and had him fired faster than twice-struck lightning.

On Wednesday, I threw a farewell party for Marla. It was the least she deserved. It was the same day I finally asked her to tell West to get off my case and stay the heck away. I didn’t know what kind of cruel game he was playing. Not only had he put a sword into my heart, breaking it in half for everyone to see, but he’d been driving around my block every day, making sure I was reminded of what I’d lost.

He did take a step back after Marla gave him the shotgun spiel, but that didn’t stop him from shooting me looks whenever we crossed paths at Sheridan University.

I didn’t know what he wanted from me. If he didn’t like being my enemy—why did he make me one?

“The way he looks at you …” Karlie let loose a vindictive grin when we sat at the cafeteria on Thursday, a day before the fight. She tore a packet of hot sauce open and poured it over her basket of Doritos. “How does it feel to have the most unattainable man at Sheridan University at your feet?”

“Pretty crappy,” I admitted.

What I didn’t admit was that I had the nagging feeling West wasn’t the only person to watch me.

That there was more. That I was being followed. I couldn’t pinpoint what made me feel that way exactly, but the lingering feeling of danger hung in the air, bloated and hot. Like someone wished me harm.

Of course, telling this to Karlie without backing it up with facts was just overdramatic.

“Well, if you want a silver lining, here’s something to think about—with the way he is staring at you, there’s no doubt who really did the dumping.”

But West’s misery didn’t comfort me one bit. It only made me hate him more for doing this to us for no reason.

As if things weren’t reaching an alarming level of weirdness, Tess had begun to hang out with Karlie and me. I didn’t stop it from happening. I was too emotionally exhausted to shoo her away. And she seemed genuine. Like she was back to being the girl I liked before West laid his eyes on me.

Maybe she was growing up.

Maybe we were all growing up.

I knew I certainly was, with the next decision I made.

“All right, Grams, it’s showtime. You ready?”

I pushed the Chevy’s door open on Saturday morning. I had to cancel Friday’s rehearsal to spend the evening packing away all of Grams’ belongings, with the help of Karlie and Marla.

Everything was last-minute, but when we got the call about the vacancy, we couldn’t waste time.