Treacherous

“What are you getting at?” I ask, not really following.

“Maybe you have a thing for guys that are assholes. Hence, the drooling.”

“I was not drooling.” I land a playful punch to his bicep.

“It also doesn’t hurt that Zayden seems to have a sweet spot for you.”

“What?” I practically spring out of my seat.

“You heard me. Don’t think I missed the way he was looking at you earlier. Or the way you were looking at him, for that matter. Not to mention the fact that Zayden is not the type of guy that apologizes. Ever.”

“Well he needed to apologize. Look what he did to me!” I hold up my hand, gesturing to the bruises that wrap around my lower forearm that are hidden beneath my jacket sleeve.

“That’s not the point. I’ve gone to school with Zayden since kindergarten, and I’ve seen him do some pretty messed up crap, but what I’ve never seen him do is apologize for it afterward.”

I ponder this for a moment, my earlier exchange with Zayden coming to the forefront of my mind. The way he looked at me when he examined my arm—his expression a mix of anger and regret. It really did seem like he felt bad, which was a complete contradiction to how he’s treated me thus far.

“He’s weirdly protective of you, too,” he continues. “First, he got angry with you for drinking at the party last night when you didn’t know who made the drink. Then he was pissed you were at the fight, because he said it wasn’t safe. I don’t think I’ve ever encountered that side of Zayden before.”

“But then he purposely screws with me at school. He’s protective when it’s convenient for him, but he sure has no problem hurting me either. There’s plenty of proof in his actions this past week.”

“You’re not wrong there.” He slows to a stop outside of my house and kills the engine. “But maybe he’s doing that to keep you at bay.”

“Why would he want to keep me at bay?” I ask before we both answer in unison. “Oliver.”

I drop my head back on the headrest and blow out a puff of air.

“I really have no idea why my stepbrother hates me so much.”

“Maybe you should ask him.”

“I’ve tried. Well, sort of. He has no interest in having an actual conversation with me.”

“Then maybe you should make him.”

“Not sure I could even if I tried. And honestly, at this point, I’m not sure I want to know. I just need to get through the rest of the school year, and then I’m gone. Bye, bye Oliver and all his bullshit.”

“There, see, just focus on the end goal.”

“I’m trying, but when you’re forced to live with a person who torments you daily, the end goal seems like a lifetime away.”

“I get that. But hey, at least you have me.” He grins.

“This is true,” I agree, glancing at the clock on my phone. “It’s still early. Do you want to come in and hang out?” I gesture to the large, brick house set back several feet from the road.

“Your parents won’t care?”

“My mom is at the hospital. She got called into an emergency surgery shortly before you picked me up. She won’t be home until really late. And Paul doesn’t care. Oliver has a different girl over every other day and he never says a word. I dare him to say something to me for having a friend over. Even if that friend is a very handsome guy.” I wink at him.

“Careful now. You know I’m not gay, right? And I’ve already told you that you’re an easy ten out of ten. Keep paying me compliments, and I might get the wrong impression.” He smiles and from the playfulness of his expression I know he’s just messing with me.

From the first moment Pierce sat down at my lunch table there was this unspoken, mutual thing between us. It’s like we both knew that we were destined to be just friends.

“You’re ridiculous,” I tell him, throwing the door open. “Are you coming or not?” I ask as I get out of the car.

“Fine, but if you suggest braiding each other’s hair or painting nails, I’m out. I may like boys but that doesn’t mean I’m a girl.”

“Noted.” I laugh, shutting the door as Pierce climbs out of the car.