Chapter 15
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CALIX
I balled my hands into fists and watched Frasier kiss my girl. I mean, Astrid.
What the fuck is he doing? And why is she kissing him back?
Mira had her hands all over me, trying to pry my attention away from my little sister’s best friend and my best friend, all fucking over each other in the middle of Redwood. Frasier was a player—Astrid knew that.
Why is she—
He clutched her by the waist and pulled her closer until her tits were flush against his chest, garnering stares from other students. A girl like Astrid with a guy like Frasier was bound to be all over school by next period.
When Astrid pulled away from Frasier, her cheeks were flushed, her eyes were wide, and her lips were swollen. He tucked some hair behind her ear, released his grip on her, and sauntered away, leaving her staring breathlessly at him.
After a moment, she straightened herself out and tugged her books to her chest. A wide grin was painted on her face as she began walking toward me to her next class—Calc. She didn’t even spare me a fucking glance either.
A low growl escaped my lips, and I released Mira to follow Astrid.
Who the fuck does she think she is? Was that to make me jealous?
“Astrid,” I called, pushing past students. “Astrid!”
Yet she continued to ignore me while giggling to herself and stepping into Calc. When I made it to the door, she was already seated. I flared my nostrils and walked in her direction, trying to keep my anger to myself.
But honestly, what was she thinking?! Being with Frasier at Redwood?!
It was bad enough that I had found out they’d slept together in his car the other morning. Had he schmoozed her that much? Had she really fallen for his charm? She knew how many girls he had been with.
“There’s my baby,” Mrs. Dawson cooed at me, pushing herself up from her seat and sauntering over to me. She was all dolled up in an ugly neon Lilly Pulitzer dress, like usual. She grabbed my arm before I could walk down Astrid’s aisle. “How are you doing?”
Mrs. Dawson was a fucking predator, always flirty with the guys in her class.
“Good, Mrs. Dawson,” I hummed, keeping my glare focused on Astrid.
Astrid glanced up at me.
“Will I see you at the baseball game tonight, sweetie?”
“No.”
“If you do decide to show up, I’ll need a hug.”
Once she finally let me go, I walked down Astrid’s aisle and squeezed the shoulder of the guy who was sitting behind her. “Get up.”
He readjusted his glasses. “But this is where I always—”
I leaned down, sneering in his ear, “Get. Up.”
After scrambling to gather all his belongings, he hurried to another seat at the other side of the room. I sat down behind Astrid and waited for her to turn around to talk to me. She had to have something to say.
One moment passed. Then another.
Silence. Complete fucking silence.
“All right, kids,” Mrs. Dawson said. “Settle down.”
I ran a hand through my hair, unable to fucking believe that she was ignoring me now. After what had happened at the party the other night?! Did it mean nothing to her? If it had, then why had she kissed Frasier back?
I leaned forward and grabbed a lock of Astrid’s hair, tugging on it.
“Ow!” she hissed, grabbing the back of her head and turning around. “Can you not?”
“What’s going on between you and Frasier?” I asked.
“What do you mean?”
“You know what I mean.”
She furrowed her brow and tilted her head like I was crazy. “No, I don’t.”
After balling my hands into fists underneath my desk, I sat back and attempted to act like this didn’t bother me. Why was I asking her this anyway? Why did it matter? I didn’t like Astrid like that. I couldn’t.
“Don’t play dumb,” I said, keeping my voice steady. “You fucking him?”
“Why does it matter to you?”
“It doesn’t.” Lie.
“Sure seems like it.”
“It. Doesn’t.”
“Okay,” she said, turning back to the front.
I clenched my jaw and glared at the back of her head. It didn’t bother me. My body relaxed—as much as it could—on the seat, and I turned my attention to Mrs. Dawson. No, it didn’t bother me at all.
We’d just fucked.
Nothing more.
When I finally calmed down, Astrid leaned back slightly so her hair was dangling all over my desk, then tilted her head to the side so I could see a smirk painted across her lips.
“You know,” she began in a whisper, “I should be honest with you.”
I tapped my fingers on the desk, grinding my teeth together. “About?”
“Well, Frasier’s your friend, so I’m sure you’ll find out sometime.”
“What?” I snapped. “What is it?”
Why all the fucking dramatics?! I can’t handle it!
“We’re just …” She paused and shrugged. “You know …”
“No, I don’t know, Astrid. Tell me.”
“Seeing each other a bit”—she peered back at me—“as friends.”
As friends?! As fucking friends?!
“Friends,” I scoffed. “That’s not what it seemed like in the hallway.”
“Yeah, well, you know how Frasier is …”
“He’s a fucking pig who sleeps with everyone,” I growled. “You know that.”
“Oh, come on. He’s not that bad. Can actually be really sweet sometimes.”
I leaned forward again, heart pounding so hard that I could hear it in my ears. “Are we talking about the same fucking person? Frasier. Frasier Crane. Same guy who had an orgy with the softball team last year?”
She scrunched her nose. “Ew, I don’t want to hear about that.”
“That’s the guy you’re dating.”
She turned around. “We’re not dating.”
“Then what the fuck are you doing kissing him in the middle of Redwood?”
A smirk crossed her face again, and then Astrid turned back around. “Okay, you caught me. I’m fucking your best friend, Calix. What are you going to do about it?”