Three
‘HERE YOU GO, TORMENTITA.’
Dropping into my brother’s passenger seat with a groan, I snatch the iced latte he holds out toward me like I’m a starved animal, drowning my mutter of gratitude with a greedy gulp of caramel goodness.
I can’t remember the last time I saw Sebastian two days in a row, but if it involves a ride home from practice and coffee, I’m more than fine with it.
I guess it’s his guilt manifesting. After all, if he hadn’t ditched me in five seconds flat, I never would’ve found myself hammered and vomiting on the sand with my ex barking in my ear about what an embarrassment I am.
That is, until someone promptly told him to go fuck himself.
Not me, unfortunately. My brother, I think.
It’s all a bit foggy, really. I vaguely recall someone getting rid of Ben.
And someone – the same person? – twisting my hair away from my face, rubbing my back, crooning something comforting.
The only thing I really remember is getting home and crawling into bed, where I proceeded to rot for a meager few hours before my alarm went off.
‘Y’know,’ Seba pats my thigh with one hand and drops a breakfast croissant on the dashboard with another, ‘I think Coach Bell would’ve forgiven you for skipping practice just this once.’
‘I don’t skip practice.’
I never have. I swam a meet with the flu once, for God’s sake – and won, though I didn’t beat my personal best, so my dad made me jog the mile-ish home. If I can do that, I can push through one hangover. I did push through a hangover.
The drastic increase in snarky, derogatory comments were a little harder to wade through – turns out, the only thing more heinous than me getting cheated on is me daring to move on.
Shock horror. Call the village freaking elders – but I survived that too.
I made it out unscathed. And, more importantly, I literally made it out before the Cove College crowd turned up.
Now, I want to make it out of this parking lot, so I can be alone with my croissant. ‘Can we go, please?’
Seba starts to nod, but when a headache-inducingly loud ringtone suddenly echoes around the car’s interior, I groan again. ‘Two minutes,’ he promises, despite the fact no one has ever exited a vehicle for a simple two-freaking-minute conversation.
As he rounds the corner of the pool complex and disappears from sight, I slump in my seat. Propping my forearm against the open window, I tilt my head toward the sky and close my eyes, settling in for what’ll likely be a long wait.
Only a minute passes before knuckles rap against the roof, making me jump.
I open my eyes, and the urge to retch suddenly strikes me again.
Nope.
Huffing, I stab at the button to roll the window up, but begrudgingly stop when fingers curl around the top of the glass. I’m not opposed to a little dismemberment, and especially not when it comes to him, but perhaps not in the light of day with witnesses lurking.
‘Get out of the car, Daniela.’
Maybe just the pinkie.
Scowling at my ex, I don’t do what he so brusquely demands. Let him rave at me through the crack in the window. Whatever. I don’t give a shit.
‘Seriously? You can’t even talk to me now?’
‘Oh, I can.’ I bare my teeth in a loose interpretation of a smile. ‘I just really don’t want to.’
In the blink of an eye, the car door opens and Ben drags me outside, practically growling as he snatches my sunglasses off my face. ‘Grow the fuck up, Dani.’
Just as quickly, I rip my arm from his grasp, my glasses too, and plant both hands on his chest so I can shove him away. ‘Grab me like that again and see what fucking happens.’
Like the frisbee of my nightmares, he rebounds, ending up even closer. ‘What the hell were you doing last night?’
Folding my arms, I silently crook a brow. Whatever do you mean, dickhead?
‘If you’re trying to make me jealous . . . ’
Then it worked, I can’t help but think, with no small amount of glee, of exhilaration.
Because that’s what he looks right now – jealous.
He looks like a pathetic, jealous boyfriend, no matter how much he tries to huff and puff and portray all this forced exasperation, no matter how snidely he says, ‘Shit, then that’s really pathetic, Dan. ’
I blink slowly. ‘Sorry, did you say something? I wasn’t listening.’
‘You—’
I cut him off with a tut. ‘Rude. I wasn’t finished.
’ Slumping against the car, I take a long second to survey the hangnail plaguing my middle finger – just because I know the perceived nonchalance will piss him off – before cutting him a mild glare.
‘I wasn’t listening because I don’t give a fuck about anything that comes out of your mouth.
Not one thing. I’m done with you, Ben. I really, really wish you could actually be done with me too. ’
He barks a haughty laugh. ‘I am done. I’ve moved on. I have a girlfriend, babe. You are throwing yourself at fuckboys to try to get my attention.’
‘Not throwing myself at anyone right now, yet here you are.’
Two hands lift in frustration, one of them raking through wet hair as Ben backs up a step while the other gestures erratically at me. ‘This is exactly why I left you, you know that? If you could stop being such a fucking bitch for five seconds—’
‘One.’ Fixing a saccharine smile into place, I hold up a finger. ‘Two.’ Up goes another. And then another, and another, and another, while I count aloud until I reach five. ‘Look at that. Five seconds. Bet you can’t stop being a prick for one.’
Ben opens his mouth.
‘Oops.’ I sigh with mock disappointment. ‘Big fail.’
‘Fuck you, Daniela.’
‘Fuck off, Ben.’
‘Hey.’
As a third, unfamiliar voice unexpectedly intervenes, my anger at Ben channels itself into a fresh scowl for the girl suddenly lingering a handful of steps away. ‘What?’
‘Excuse her.’ Not for the first time, Ben apologizes on my behalf. Not for the first time, he sets a scolding hand on my shoulder, squeezing. Not for the first time, I shrug it off. ‘Can we help you?’
‘Yeah,’ the girl replies, two deep divots dimpling dark skin as full lips part to make room for a wide grin that only makes the next words out of her mouth all the more shocking. ‘You mind fucking off so I can talk to Daniela?’
While Ben physically recoils, I laugh aloud. ‘Yes, Ben,’ I practically cackle, all but rubbing my hands together in evil glee. ‘You mind?’
He does. Deeply. He would love to stay and gripe some more, I can read it on his face, but he doesn’t. Throat bobbing as he swallows his pride, he reluctantly backs off, tossing one last threat my way before he turns around and jogs over to his awaiting entourage. ‘This isn’t over.’
‘I’m shaking in my flip-flops.’ I roll my eyes to the sky. When they come back down, they land on my new hero. ‘Do I know you?’
Twisting the end of a braid around her finger, the girl chuckles quietly. ‘Yes, actually. We’ve met. Several times.’
As a teeny tiny little fragment of guilt turns my stomach, a ring-adorned hand dismisses it. ‘Imani Jones,’ she introduces herself, and the name definitely rings a bell. As does her face.
At the very moment I remember – with no small amount of cringe-inducing dread – that she was one of the few gathered around the firepit last night, Imani cocks her head at me, onyx eyes narrowing ever-so-slightly. ‘I’m friends with Heath.’
Jesus. Even hearing his name kind of makes me want to be sick. ‘Ah.’
‘I know Ben has probably tainted your perception of him—’
‘No more so than he has the rest of the male species.’
That draws a laugh out of her. ‘Right. Anyway. I’m shooting some promo pics for the team today and I saw you over here, and I just wanted to tell you that Heath is a really good guy.’
I wait for the punchline, for it to become clear why she’s looking at me like that. ‘Okay?’
Imani sighs. ‘What you did last night wasn’t cool.’
‘Okay,’ I repeat, no less confused. ‘If you have a crush on him or something, that’s not really my—’
‘Jesus, no.’ With a scoff, she emphatically shakes her head from side to side, practically gagging before composing herself and hitting me with, ‘You used him to make Ben jealous.’
Something defensive licks a path up my spine. ‘That’s not what I was doing.’
In some sense, maybe, but jealousy wasn’t my prime objective. Rage and mortification were. And it worked like a charm, obviously, but I can’t even enjoy it without the guilt trip? Seriously unfair.
As Imani eyes me skeptically, my own gaze narrows. ‘I’m sorry,’ I half-laugh, half-scoff, ‘but did you have this same conversation with Heath?’
Dark brows pull together. ‘What?’
I run my tongue over my teeth and drop one hand to my hip, the other drumming against the top of my brother’s car. ‘Did you scold him for using me? Or is it different because he’s a sweet little boy and I’m an evil witch?’
‘I don’t think you’re an evil witch,’ she’s so quick to clarify, yet I still find it hard to believe her. Equally hard to believe is: ‘And he wasn’t using you.’
‘Right,’ I snicker, as I slide my sunglasses back into place, shielding another eye roll, though I suspect Imani senses it anyway. ‘He kissed me because he’s madly in love with me, not because I’m his rival’s ex.’
For a second, Imani is quiet. And then she smiles again, shaking her head as she chuckles. ‘Y’know, I think there’s a reality somewhere in between those two.’
‘Unlikely.’ Hauling the car door open again, I duck back inside. As I slam the door behind me, I reach for my now-tepid coffee whilst waggling my fingers dismissively. ‘Anyway. So lovely chatting.’
Briefly looking almost . . . shell-shocked, Imani starts slowly walking backwards, still wearing that odd, sort of surprised smile. ‘Let’s do it again sometime.’
Yeah, right. ‘Boy talk over cocktails?’
With a laugh, she turns around, lifting one hand in a blind wave. ‘Bye, Dani.’
Calling a goodbye in her wake, I let my head hit the headrest with a thump.