5. Maxwell
Maxwell
Back at campus, Clayton did not throw up when he got off the bike.
It wouldn’t have mattered if he had because the second my engine stopped, I walked away from him. Left him in the dust like he was nothing.
The air is warmer now that we aren’t at the beach, my skin sticky with the humidity. Strands of my hair cling to my face, and I push it away but it seems to find its way back to my forehead.
I’m pent up with rage over Clayton. I don’t know why I thought it was a good idea to bring him on a ride, but it wasn’t. It absolutely was a fucking horrible idea. He had this picture painted about me, but he didn’t even take a second to know me. Who I am to everyone else, that isn’t me at my core.
I’m smart, I do know my way around a body, and I do have the right to be a nurse. I have the right to be at this school and my father didn’t hand me my tuition like a piece of birthday cake.
I skip the dorm and go right out to the woods, hoping that Dax and Mav will still be out where I left them. They usually are, especially when it gets later in the night.
Emerging through the trees, seeing the couch and other furniture pieces, I find Mav sitting alone on the recliner.
“Hey, buddy,” he greets me.
“Where’s Dax?” I ask.
“Went to pick up my sister.”
“Naturally. They ever gonna hitch or what?” I joke, knowing that idea pisses Mav off.
“Fuck no. He better not.”
“Who knows, maybe they’re in the car making out as we sit here,” I mock, watching as Mav’s face changes to anger.
“Fuck back off from wherever you came from, Max.”
“I’m fucking with you, man,” I laugh.
“Where you been?”
“Went for a ride. Brought Clayton,” I explain and tell him everything that happened. Even the whole Clayton-boner part.
“You did what?” Mav’s jaw drops, eyebrows rising, and dark eyes going wide.
“Yeah. Was gonna go by myself, but then I ran into him. Decided to bring him along,” I explain again as if I hadn’t just told him. “I may have held his throat and pinned him to the wall.” I add, which I hadn’t told him before.
“Again, you did what!?” Mav's voice cracks, disbelief prominent in his tone.
“He was pissing me off,” I deadpan.
“You're supposed to make him love you, not kill the guy.”
“Yeah. Right. The kid hates my guts, but I am determined to turn this around.” I swing my leg up, ankle hanging over my knee as I light my own J.
I suck in the smoke, letting it fill my lungs and clear my head.
I soak it all in. The taste, the burn, the smell.
Every aspect and it makes me feel a little better. A little less pissed.
“What are you going to do?” Mav ponders, puffing on his own joint. It's dark now; the sun is completely gone from the sky, and all I can see is the red of the burning paper.
“I have just the idea,” I smirk.
The weekend has finally greeted us, and it’s been days of Clayton ignoring me. We weren’t partnered in Anatomy, and it made me think that he said something to Professor Adams.
My idea is in full gear now, though.
I reached out to someone I used to tutor last year as a junior and asked them to set up a study group. Knowing that Clayton is big with Anatomy and helping other students– I’ve seen it in class– I made sure it was a group he would want to attend.
We couldn’t plan a party and invite him because he wouldn’t show up.
He doesn’t hang around the crowds that want to let loose and get rowdy.
But what he doesn’t know is that when he arrives to the scene, it will be a party.
He won’t be able to leave either, because I won’t allow him to.
He will be trapped. He might hate every second of it, but I think he’s hiding that he might not hate me as much as he wants to believe he does.
Clayton Reeves can tell himself that he hates me, but his body won’t lie. That is what I’m going to believe.
My job is to make him fall in love with me, and I'm going to do just that, no matter what I have to do.