“There is no deal,” I said. “I just don’t want Frankie fucking up my plan.”
“That’s what it is?” Jeremy raised his eyebrows and looked at me sideways. “A plan?”
We started walking back to the building. I tapped the ball repeatedly, keeping it no more than five feet in front of me.
“Admit it,” Jeremy said.
“Admit what?”
“You like the new girl.”
“She does have a nice ass,” I replied.
“You’ll be bringing her flowers next.”
“Fuck you,” I said as images of mums flooded my head. Jeremy just laughed, so I threw the mud-covered ball at him. “Asshole.”
There was no way, no matter what else happened, that I was going to let any of the fuckers on my team get anywhere near my Rumple. Every single one of them would treat her like shit, and I wasn’t going to let that happen.
I knew I shouldn’t let the comments of others about Rumple bother me, but I couldn’t seem to let it go as I showered off. It took forever for me to wash all the mud out of my hair, so I was really late for biology. I was also a little nervous walking in and paused for a bit outside the door before taking a big b
reath and making my way to my seat. Nicole didn’t look up at me at all, and when I glanced at her, I could see her jaw tensed and her eyes tight. Bucher was droning on about what exactly constituted “life,” and Nicole was taking copious notes with her pen. I tried reaching over and grabbing it, but she jerked away.
“Don’t you touch me!” she snarled under her breath.
I backed off, not knowing what to say. She didn’t look at me again, and when class was over, she practically bolted out of her seat.
I took off after her.
“Hey, Rumple!”
“Don’t call me that!” she snapped. She continued to walk as fast as she possibly could toward the gym. I caught up and matched her strides.
“I’ll see you in the library after class, right?”
“No.”
Damn.
“Why not?” As soon as I asked, I knew I should have kept my mouth shut.
“Because you are the biggest dickhead I have ever had the misfortune to encounter!”
Damn again.
“We need to work on the project,” I reminded her, trying to appeal to her academic nature.
“I need to work on the project,” she corrected me. “You can go roll around in the mud with your asshole friends!”
“It is a team project,” I said.
She stopped right outside the math hall and turned her glare at me.
“Look, Malone,” she said with venom, “I know how the whole jock thing works. You don’t do shit, and you still get an A because you’re the star player. I get it. You don’t have to fake anything with me. I know you aren’t going to do any work on this at all, and there is no point in you showing up just to pretend. I promise I’ll add your name to the top of the paper.”
“Hey!” I reached out and grabbed her arm but released it immediately when she—quite literally—growled at me. “I can do my own work!”
“Oh, whatever!” She took a step back and rolled her eyes. “You show up to class late every day, but Bucher says nothing. You don’t take notes—you don’t even bring a fucking pencil!”