26
You didn’t expect this, did you, Jude?
Twelve hours before the fair
I had to ask Dash where to find Lander, since Artie wasn’t about to tell me. She wouldn’t even speak to me, so I went to see that guy by myself.
I needed his help for my plan.
When I got to the engineering building and entered the room where Dash said I’d find Lander, it was like stepping into a cool, futuristic cyber-world.
There were digital whiteboards, even see-through ones, everywhere.
They were covered with colorful scribbles: codes, numbers, and terms that only a computer scientist could understand.
There were also loads of posters on the walls and five rows of computers.
The computers were powerful beasts compared to the ones in the library, with cables and gadgets jutting out that I couldn’t get my head around.
It was like stepping into a control room in a science fiction film.
There was only one person there. He was sitting in the back row, in a swivel chair, wearing large headphones. I could hear typing and the clicks of a mouse. I walked over, imagining I’d find a genius cracking codes, hacking into illegal websites, and stealing information.
But Lander was playing Fortnite.
Um, okay.
I tapped him on the shoulder, almost making him jump out of his chair. As he turned around, his headphones slipped off his head, knocking his thick-framed glasses off in the process—a complete mess.
Well, Lander was . . . how could I describe him?
Some guys look sexy and tough, while others have faces that are more tender and affectionate.
He was one of the latter. He looked like a mess, with crooked glasses and disheveled red hair, but he was unconventionally handsome.
His nose was covered in freckles, and his lips looked like a chiseled pink line.
Even his frightened expression was adorable.
He was wearing an electric-blue shirt over a black long-sleeved T-shirt and an old pair of Levi’s with some accidental Sharpie marks.
I reached out to shake his hand.
Hey, I’m Artie’s friend,” I said, sounding friendly. He was hesitant at first, but he shook my hand.
“I know it’s really weird, me showing up here without knowing you,” I said, “but I need a favor, and Artie said you might be able to help. I’m part of Aegan Cash’s organizing committee.”
It was almost like saying that name was enough to ruin his day.
“Aegan,” he said, looking fed up and . . . resentful? “He’s called me like five times, and I’ve told him everything is sorted. I got the instructions and everything is ready to go. Tell him to chill out.”
“He’s nervous because he’s giving a really important speech,” I said, trying to apologize for him. Or maybe he wasn’t. I had no idea.
“Mmm . . .” mumbled Lander, basically saying, I don’t give a shit, he’s an asshole.
And I understood him. In fact, I was glad he wasn’t trying to suck up to Aegan.
“Well, the thing is, he’s come up with a new idea and needs a commemorative video to come on during his speech,” I said, getting straight to the point.
I thought he’d refuse, but he looked like he wanted to get this over with quickly.
“Okay,” he accepted. “Give me the file.”
I didn’t have it on me because it was valuable. As cute as Lander was, I couldn’t trust anybody.
“I’ll give it to you tomorrow,” I assured him, lying of course. “It’s still being edited.”
He nodded then spun around on his chair to get back to his game. As I was making my way out of there, he asked me a question.
“Did Artie really say you could come and ask me a favor?”
I looked at him. He kept playing his game. His reddish hair was perfectly straight, and he had slightly narrow shoulders.
“Yeah, is that weird?” I asked, not knowing what he was getting at.
“Really weird,” he admitted. “She thinks I don’t notice, but I can tell she doesn’t like anyone finding out that we’re . . . let’s say, connected in some way.”
Oh, I’d noticed that too, but I didn’t have the heart to agree with him. And I also didn’t want to make Artie look bad, even though we weren’t talking anymore.
“Why wouldn’t she want people to find out?” I tried to mediate. “You seem like a great guy.”
“Really?” he said, sounding a little sad. “Am I as great as a Cash?”
Well . . . physically, the Cash brothers were in a different league, but Lander was nothing to be sniffed at.
Until then, I hadn’t really considered how hurt all the people who missed out on opportunities must feel simply because the Cash family’s privileges always came first. Everyone who, at some point, had been overshadowed by them.
“Lander, the Cash brothers aren’t great at all,” I said honestly.
He didn’t say anything for a minute. He then whispered, “I wish Artie thought the same. And that she’d get over it.”
I didn’t understand. But before I could ask what he meant, my phone vibrated.
Aegan: I think I’m coming down with a cold and I need to be my best today. Call into the pharmacy and pick me up something. I’m at the apartment. Move that flat ass.
Well, at least we were still in contact. Maybe he wasn’t pissed off anymore. I certainly was, but I had to keep my cool.
If it were up to me, I would’ve let him die of pneumonia. But I still had to act the loving girlfriend, and a girlfriend never neglects her boyfriend when he’s sick, of course.
A Grinch-like smile spread across my face as the idea came to me.
Unless that lovestruck girlfriend happened to make a mistake at the chemist . . .
I let out a little laugh, said goodbye to Lander, and headed to the campus pharmacy. I walked in and stopped in front of the counter. The pharmacist was a girl just a few years older than me, who looked like a nervous puppy.
“Have you got any laxative pills?” I casually asked.
“Yeah,” she said, hesitantly.
I threw her a wide, bright smile, like a child about to pull off their most epic prank.
“Great, can I have a box, please, and another box of something for the flu.”
Once outside, I sat on one of the benches on the pavement and switched them around, putting the laxative pills into the full box.
I was fairly certain Aegan wouldn’t even glance at the name printed on the back of the pill, so my plan was going to work.
Just imagining the Olympic-level diarrhea I’d trigger later gave me such a thrill.
I packed everything into the little bag and left, humming, and basically skipped my way to his apartment. When I arrived, I strolled down the hallway still humming a catchy jingle, knocked on his door, and . . .
My spirit was crushed.
Adrik, aka Driki, aka My Personal Regret, answered the door. Seeing him was like being punched in the stomach, leaving me gasping for air. KO. Because no, he couldn’t just be handsome, could he? Nooo, he had to be painfully, torturously hot. Fuck!
The idiot was also only wearing gym shorts. For a minute, I stared at his bare chest, then at his wild, disheveled hair, so messy it looked like he’d just rolled out of bed.
He looked at me as he slowly chewed a chocolate bar, his eyes half-lidded, cool and indifferent.
I gripped the bag of medicines even tighter.
I hoped he wouldn’t notice how restless I was.
Adrik was more sensible than his brothers, so I was sure he’d be mature about things, and I was ready to do the same.
I thought he might not let me through because he was just standing there, but he finally stepped aside. I went in and heard the door slam shut behind me. I almost jumped out of my skin.
“At least you didn’t slam the door in my face,” I said, trying to break the ice with a joke.
Was it too early for jokes? Yeah, but I was nervous.
“I’m not the only one who lives here,” he replied indifferently, walking toward the kitchen. “And if I had slammed the door in your face, you’d just keep knocking. What’s the point in arguing?”
He was right. That asshole was always right.
“Guess I’m stubborn,” I said, shrugging.
“Stupidity is what it is,” he corrected me.
I exhaled. Once again, he was the cold, curt, and sarcastic Adrik from literature class, almost like we’d never kissed.
The worst part was that the more I tried to ignore it, the more awkward it made things.
I got the feeling he was taking this in stride.
I was shuddering inside while he was as cool as a cucumber.
That outburst of rage at the club felt like a million years ago.
“Where’s Aegan?” I asked. “He told me to bring him some things.”
Adrik hesitated. He chewed the last piece of chocolate, opened the fridge, grabbed a beer, and closed it. I carefully watched his every move.
“He was in the shower. He’ll be out now,” he replied as he cracked open the beer.
There was silence. Meanwhile, I just stood there in the middle of the room, clutching the bag with both hands in front of me.
That awkward vibe, the feeling that there was unfinished business between us, grew so thick I felt like I could cut it with a knife.
I didn’t know where to go, so I pretended to look at the walls and everything around me.
I could practically hear the lamp a few feet away saying, Hey, lying bitch.
I shook my head. What the fuck? Fucking lamp or fucking conscience?
It then dawned on me to ask, “Is Aegan . . . pissed?”
“Why would he be?” he replied.
“Because of the whole video thing.”
He looked thoughtful.
“No,” he finally said. “We’ve already discussed it.”
Oh, fuck, they’d talked about me. Could things get any worse?
“What did you talk about?” I asked, nervous. “Can you tell me?”
“Mmm, no.”
“Adrik!” I exclaimed, now getting worked up.
He put a hand on his forehead, like he’d suddenly remembered something that had nothing to do with his conversation with Aegan.
“I’m sorry, how rude of me to just leave you standing there,” he said, acting kind, and pointed to a spot in the living room. “You can wait for my brother over there on the balcony, where we hung out the first night I brought you back to the apartment.”