14. Connor #2
“Air hockey, duh.”
I square my shoulders and step up to the machine. Gabe already has his paddle in hand and is staring me down. I’m in the wrong here, but every scrap of competitiveness in me rears its head and roars. Bring it on, Bookstore Jerk.
ELLIOT
Oh God, what is happening?
I try to blend into the group while Connor steps up to the machine and takes his paddle in hand. He and Gabe are glaring at each other over the table like they’re about to drop the paddles and start punching each other like it’s an actual hockey game.
Maybe I should be flattered that two guys are fighting over me, but I’m not. I just feel like a shitty person for leading Gabe on and hooking up with my best friend’s brother behind her back.
I want to run out of here and get far away from this battle, but me leaving would only draw attention.
Scout is loving this. She’s holding her Shirley Temple like it’s a margarita and is about one step away from shouting, Fight, fight, fight!
The game starts. Gabe and Connor smack the disc so hard the sound rings out over the noisy arcade machines. The look of concentration on Connor’s face tells me he’s desperate to beat Gabe at this.
He gives the disc a good whack and it flies into Gabe’s slot so fast he has no time to react.
“Yes!” Connor celebrates. I look away in case our eyes meet.
I don’t think I like this competitive, asshole version of Connor.
He kissed a guy Gabe was dating. Gabe is the one who has been led on.
Yet Connor’s acting like a gladiator in the arena about to face down a lion with nothing more than a blunt spear?
When Connor looks over at me, he must see something in my expression, because his triumphant smile fades and his shoulders slump.
“Ready?” Gabe asks him.
Connor turns back to the game. “Huh? Oh, yeah.”
They go again. This time, Connor doesn’t have that crazed look in his eyes. He’s still matching Gabe shot for shot, but it’s less frenzied. That feral need to win isn’t present.
Gabe gets the disc in Connor’s slot and celebrates. I’m sure Connor’s disappointment is feigned.
They play on like this until Gabe takes the game. I lost track of the score at some point. I only know Gabe won because he’s celebrating.
I wait for that mask slip I saw in the kitchen. But he isn’t even listening to her. He’s watching me, uncertainty in his eyes.
Brad steps forward and slaps him on the shoulder in a conciliatory manner before offering to play the winner, but Gabe steps back from the table, offering his paddle to someone else.
Scout steps up with a feral look in her eyes and grins menacingly at Brad.
Poor Brad looks like he’s questioning his life choices.
“Just going to get another drink,” Gabe says.
I follow him into the bar.
“Gabe.”
He turns around, his face dropping when he sees me.
I step closer. “I’m so sorry.”
“What are you sorry for? We didn’t say we were exclusive. We only had one date. ”
He’s putting a brave face on and that only makes me feel worse.
“It was still a shitty thing to do,” I say, my voice low.
He glances back into the arcade. “If that’s your type, then I’m barking up the wrong tree, anyway.”
“What do you mean?”
He sighs. “I thought you liked substance over style, but maybe I was wrong.”
I open my mouth to defend Connor, tell Gabe that he does have substance, but it’s pointless. Maybe even cruel. If Gabe wants to make himself feel better by bashing Connor, I shouldn’t stop him.
“Does Scout know?”
My heart pounds and my mouth gets dry.
“No.”
Gabe shakes his head. “I won’t say anything, don’t worry.”
“Thank you.”
When we get back to the group, I tell Scout that I’m not feeling well and can’t go to the gig. I know she really wanted to go, but she tells me she doesn’t care and she’ll give me a ride home instead.
“I’ll give him a ride, sis,” Connor says.
She eyes him skeptically.
“Will you be okay with all these strange guys?” Connor asks her.
Scout rolls her eyes. “There’s women here, too.” She turns to me. “Are you sure you don’t want me to come home with you? I don’t mind. We can have an X-Files marathon. Mulder might make you feel better.” She winks.
“No, seriously. Stay and have fun.”
“You don’t have to go to your dad’s,” she says. “Just crash at our house. I’ll try not to wake you up when I come home later.”
“I’ll pick you up if you want,” Connor offers.
Scout frowns at him. “Why would you do that?”
“Because I don’t want you drinking and driving. This way you can drink if you want and get home safe.”
She flinches, like she doesn’t know how to react to Connor doing a nice thing for her. “I don’t need a ride. I’m not even going to drink.”
“You’re sure?” Connor asks.
Maybe he’s wearing her down, because instead of snapping at him this time, she rolls her eyes indulgently, the way she does at Naomi. “Yes, neanderthal, I’ll be fine.”
She leans forward and gives me a hug. “Sure you’re okay?”
I nod.
“Take good care of him,” Scout tells Connor.
“Don’t worry, I will.”