7 #3
“Why are you doing this?” I asked him.
“Because I like to follow certain rules in my relationships,” he said, seemingly startled that I found this strange. “What’s the problem?”
“I don’t mean that Christian Grey–style rules bullshit. I mean choosing me, wanting to go out with me.”
“Are you looking for me tell you that you’re special and all that?”
“No, I want you to tell me what you’re playing at,” I demanded, “because I know you’re up to something.”
We were looking at each other. Aegan squinted. I saw a cunning, menacing glint in them.
“Have you ever heard the phrase ‘keep your friends close and your friends closer’?” he whispered. “It’s part of my life philosophy, darling.”
“Don’t call me ‘darling,’” I spat.
He let out a snort. “You got it, I was getting pissed off having to call you that anyways.”
And there he was, the real Aegan: cruel and hateful, like the Joker.
“Finally,” I scoffed. “You’re not the gentlemanly, good-hearted Aegan you want everyone to think you are.”
His expression hardened.
“And who are you?” he shot back, defiant yet mocking.
“Because you came out of nowhere and then went around dragging my name through the mud. At first, I thought I’d misunderstood you, but it’s becoming increasingly clear that you’re trying to stir shit up.
If you don’t stop soon, you might not like where you end up. ”
“Really, you don’t say? Wow . . .” No matter what happened between us, Aegan was certain he’d come out on top. “If you think I’m afraid of you, you’ve got another thing coming. Guys like you don’t intimidate me.” I felt I should make that clear to him.
He shook his head and then smiled with macabre satisfaction.
“I’m not trying to scare you. I’m just trying to be honest with you.” He spoke slowly, in a threatening tone. “Don’t pick a fight you can’t win, Jude Derry.”
“Why are you so sure that I can’t win?” I challenged him.
“I’ve got what it takes to fight, and from where I’m standing, you don’t seem to have anything at all.”
He gave me a subtle once-over, looking at me with contempt and superiority, which may have been part of his strategy to intimidate me. Was that a tactic he used with others? Maybe it worked with them, but it wouldn’t with me.
“You’ve met your match with me,” I said, throwing him a bitter smile.
“It’s called guts. It’s what drove me to sit down at that table on game night to make you look like a fool, and it’s what’ll help me deal with your attacks, unless you’re too chicken to fight.
If you’re looking for me, you know where to find me. ”
I opened the door, got out of the car, and strode away down the path. As I walked away, I heard Aegan shout behind me.
“I’ll pick you up for class in the morning! Good night, gorgeous!”
When I got to the apartment, I closed the door and leaned against it.
I let out a heavy sigh.
Fuck . . . My heart was pounding from the adrenaline-fueled bravery.
I’d just told Aegan Cash I’d face any of his attacks head-on, that if he wanted a war, I’d give him one.
And I had the guts needed to do just that.
But Harry Potter didn’t destroy Voldemort with guts alone; that defeat called for much more.
Still, I had no regrets. I had made it clear that he couldn’t intimidate me. At the very least, he would realize that I wasn’t going to make things easy for him.
In the midst of my mental breakdown, I remembered Artie. Finding her door locked, I knocked and waited for her to come.
I remembered overhearing Aegan telling her to shut up. In the car, he never said goodbye back to her and obviously couldn’t have cared less if she’d died from her salmon allergy. She had clearly had a rough time today.
The truth was, I’d never really had any friends. I didn’t know how I should handle the matter, so I knocked on the door again and tried to be honest.
“Artie,” I said, knowing she’d hear me, “I’m really sorry. I should’ve gotten us out of there. No, actually, I shouldn’t have asked you if you wanted to go out in the first place. It was stupid of us to go.”
No response.
“I’m really sorry,” I added with a sigh. “If you’re angry, you have every right to not accept my apology and to stop talking to me. I’ll respect that.”
Again, no answer.
“Well, thanks coming with me anyways,” I finished. “I promise not to piss you off anymore. Please don’t feel bad because of that jerk. Good night.”
I turned around to go to my room to berate myself for what I’d done. But suddenly Artie’s door opened.
She had reddened, tear-filled eyes and smudged makeup. Yeah, she’d been crying, but more importantly, she looked angry. It was a far cry from the sad-and-distressed-looking Artie at the restaurant. She looked resolute.
Then she dropped the bombshell that would change everything.
“Jude, there’s something you need to know.”
“About what?”
“About Aegan.”
My heart started racing. A strange feeling washed over me. “From the way you’re saying it, it sounds serious.”
She nodded. “It’s bad.”
Oh. Fuck.
Things were starting to heat up.