Chapter Nine Damion
CHAPTER NINE
“Mean people suck. Mean people with money suck more.”
—Remington
Damion
“What the hell was that?” Coco asked, looking at me like I was out of my mind.
I watched as wild curls disappeared down the hallway, feeling pleased that I’d left her unsettled and confused, even as I rebuked myself for giving away my damned baguette.
That was supposed to be my lunch.
It was like I was incapable of stopping myself whenever she lifted that stubborn chin in challenge. The chick made me want to leave her squirming while simultaneously messing up her hair… maybe pulling it a little.
“What do you mean?” I asked casually, even though I knew exactly what Coco meant.
“You know exactly what I mean,” she said. “Why are you acting all flirty toward that… girl?”
She said “girl” as if it wasn’t possible to come up with another word to describe how distasteful she found Julia. She said, “Not that I care, but I know you’re not out here trolling for hicktown girls in ridiculous shoes. So what are you up to?”
“I’m not up to anything, but it seems to me that you care very much,” I said, knowing exactly how to push her buttons. “Are you into me, Coke?”
“First of all, you never know. Maybe the gods are smiling on you today,” she said with a smile, sending a frisson of unease zipping down my spine because I didn’t like the way she looked at me when she said that.
She looked interested, and the last thing I needed was Coco Chattingham’s interest.
She leaned a little closer and said, “But I just happen to find it bizarre that you’re wasting time with… that. Is there some sort of a bet in play here or something?”
“There doesn’t have to be a bet for me to find a new friend interesting,” I said. “Don’t be jealous.”
She didn’t even dignify that with a response, but simply turned and started walking in the other direction.
Naomi, on the other hand, gave me a smile with an eyebrow raise. “Seriously, Rutledge, what are you doing here?”
“You know me,” I said, sliding my hands into my pockets. “Always looking for something to entertain me.”
“Okay, this is true,” she said, and I was slightly insulted by her easy agreement. “But her?”
I just shrugged. “Who knows?”
“What do we even know about her?” Bella said. “I heard she has a hot brother and that they’re from Wyoming, but do we know anything else?”
“Nebraska, not Wyoming,” I corrected, “And she has a twin brother.”
“Does he also have awful hair and terrible fashion sense?”
“I will leave that judgment to you,” I said, happy to walk away, because I was done with the conversation. I accepted my reputation because it was convenient, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t annoyed by its inaccuracies.
But as I headed for my next class, I was torn between feeling slightly bad for Julia because she was fitting in worse than I would’ve even imagined, and feeling hopeful that the absolute rejection she was experiencing across the board was going to somehow make her family disappear.
Not likely, but it was fun to dream.
I waited an hour before succumbing to my need to mess with her. I had study hall, so it was an entire free period to wreak havoc upon her flustered sensibilities.
Me: Did you enjoy my bread?
I was surprised by her immediate response.
Julia: Why with the bread? What’s the bread about?
I replied: Bread is only ever about bread, Nebraska, come on.
Julia: Wow. So deep. NOW I believe you about the whole “smartest guy at Gardenwood” thing.
I smiled in spite of myself.
Texted: By the way, your legs are very long.
Julia: Um…
I knew that wherever she was in the building, she was staring at her phone while doing that fast-blinking thing, looking like she couldn’t believe what I’d just said.
I loved the thought of it.
So I added: Are you taller than your mullet-inflicted, bad-wallet-carrying ex-boyfriend?
That was going to bug the shit out of her.
I saw conversation bubbles, so I typed fast because she’d hate it if I cut off her defensive response.
I sent: Btw I’m a busy guy, so if you want me to pencil you in for tutoring or… anything else that crosses your mind, we should probably set aside the time.
More conversation bubbles.
She’s losing her shit right about now.
Julia: Not that it’s any of your business, but he’s taller.
Me: Who?
Julia: My ex
Me: Your ex what?
Man, I wish I could see her frustrated face, I thought. I bet those cheeks were going hardcore red while she tried coming up with a response.
Julia: You asked if I was taller than my ex-boyfriend
Me: The short king with the mullet?
Julia: He isn’t short!
Me: Stop lying. William had pocket-sized energy.
Julia: You saw his license for five seconds, you couldn’t know that
Me: So are we hooking up or what?
I heard myself laugh out loud when the conversation bubbles stretched on forever.
I couldn’t wait to see what she came up with.
Julia: Are you drunk right now?
Okay, fair, I thought.
I texted: Sadly sober. Why would you say that?
Me: WAIT. HOLD ON, NEbrASKA. Did you actually think when I said “hooking up,” that I meant…
God, this is fun.
So many conversation bubbles.
Then finally—
Julia: NO!
I snickered, looked up to see Mr. Kenseth peering at me from behind his tiny glasses like I was a criminal, then sent:… tutoring??
This is going to kill her.
A solid two minutes elapsed where no words were sent, just those little dots that let me know she was still there.
Finally she replied: If you have tutoring availability on Thursday, I can do it anytime after school. If not, that’s fine.
I didn’t know Julia Nebraska, not really, but I knew her head was exploding that very moment.
Me: Oh honey, I can do it anytime.