17. Chapter 17
My feet pound against the pavement. With every stride, I feel endorphins shoving out my shitty mood. Ever since my blowout with Sam last night, I’ve been itching to get outside. I need to get this frustration out. I would have gone for a run afterward, but it was dark, and I didn’t want to chance being run over by a car.
Now, it’s mid-morning. The sun is out, the breeze is not, and the brisk forty-five-degree temperature is keeping me perfectly comfortable. I’ve been running for thirty minutes already, and I have no intention of stopping any time soon.
Not when Sam’s egotistical expression from last night keeps popping into my mind, fueling the anger coursing through me.
Who does he think he is? I’m the one toiling over these presentations. Sure, he’s the one putting them together, but after watching him do them, it makes his contribution seem like a cake-walk. I, on the other hand, have to study the textbook for information that would make good questions. I’m not pulling stuff out of my ass. I have to think it all through.
He has no idea how exhausting that is.
A stoplight turns red, so I opt for a break. I fold my arms behind my head and pace as cars turn the corner in front of me.
And he knows technology isn’t my thing. Yes, I’ve made presentations before, but I told him I only did basic ones. These fancy games aren’t easy for me. So, not only am I providing the material, but I’m also learning too. It’s mentally taxing, and I don’t need him teasing me on top of it.
When I get the green light, I’m all worked up again. I need to leave this foul mood behind. Taking off at full speed, I blaze down the street, turning into a neighborhood to get away from the busy traffic of 8th Ave.
I’m so glad we’re not meeting today. With midterms next week, we don’t have a study group, so we don’t have a presentation to make. It’s a good thing, too. I don’t think I could stand being in the same room with him.
Judging from the irritation in his tone last night, I’m sure Sam feels the same way.
Maybe we jumped the gun on even being frenemies. I mean, things have been going well for a few weeks. Our arguments are down a ton compared to where we were at the beginning of the semester, but obviously that doesn’t matter. All it takes is one dumb comment from him, and we’re right back where we started.
Is that my fault, though? Am I the one who’s over-reacting?
I shake my head, balling my fists. No. I’m not blowing things out of proportion. He says some really stupid shit sometimes. And maybe I’m a little emotional about it, but he’s the one who started all this with his lies. So, no, I’m not taking blame for this.
Why is the guilt eating away at me, then?
“Ugh.” I tighten my fist, pressing my nails into my palm.
I will my feet to go faster, but they’re already fighting me. My legs scream for rest. I ignore them. The more I push, the more the fire in my muscles burns away my frustration, and I want it turned to ash.
If I stop, though, it’ll come back. So, I keep going, because I may not be able to run away from Sam, but I can run until I’m too exhausted to think about him anymore.
On Tuesday, as I anxiously await Dr. Hinkle’s arrival, I chew off all of my fingernails. Even though I haven’t seen Sam since we bit each other’s heads off Friday night, I’m still not ready to face him. Nor do I want to. Running helped, but when I was finished, I was right back where I started? embarrassed over the mistaken kiss and seething anger from our argument.
Maybe, since it’s midterm week and this is an optional lab day, he won’t show. I’m here because extra lab time pads my accolades on the internship application, and I’ll do anything to get ahead of him on that front. That intern spot is mine, has been for years. I won’t give it up easily.
As lab time inches closer, a few other students walk up, but Sam isn’t one of them. A weight lifts from my shoulders. Maybe my luck is changing.
Think again, Brynn.
Sam strides around the corner, but he’s not alone. Walking in step with him is Maya, and she’s doing her best rendition of a coquette. She flips her hair, laughs at Sam’s every word, and goes as far to touch his forearm at least a dozen times. It’s sickening. Especially because he soaks it all up. His ego must be the size of a watermelon right now.
When they reach the door, Sam stops. “Hey, Brynn.”
“Hey,” I say through a clenched jaw. I don’t want to, but when I look up, I meet his amenable gaze and inwardly shrink.
“So, Sam. What were you saying about The Broncos? I think football is so cool.” Maya all but pulls on his arm, tearing his gaze from mine.
Even if she does like football, her obvious attempt to steal Sam’s attention makes me want to gag. As does his quick reaction. He doesn’t even hesitate to resume their conversation.
Whatever. I’m just glad to have the focus taken off me. Sam strode up here all nonchalant, like nothing happened last week, and it’s so fucking irritating. I hate how unaffected he is by all this, and yet, here I am, stewing over something as dumb as a petty argument. I don’t let things go very easily, but maybe this is one time I should. Sam’s not worth me fretting about.
Maya can have him.
When Dr. Hinkle finally arrives, only half of the lab class is present, so he gives us all individual assignments, and I couldn’t be happier. This is my time to shine. I don’t have to worry about sharing the work with my lab partner, or waiting for another group member to finish their calculations. I can simply do my work without any annoying interruptions.
“Aw, boo.” Maya pouts. “My lab partner is so helpful. Will you still check my answers, Sam?” she asks, batting her lashes.
“Of course.”
I glance at Sam to see a self-satisfied smile on his face, and I want to puke. I don’t know what’s worse; Maya’s constant, obvious flirting, or the fact that he doesn’t seem to get his fill of it. If this continues too long, I might actually be sick.
“Besides Maya, you’re easy to work with. Some people can be as stubborn as a mule.” Arrogance drips from Sam’s words, but I don’t give him the satisfaction of reacting.
Instead, I dive into the assignment. It’s fairly straightforward. We are to write out our steps and show our measurements and calculations before performing the actual experiment. No problem.
As I’m listing out the amount of chemicals to be used, Maya’s giggling infiltrates my ears. I look up through my lashes and find Sam leaning toward her, his mouth next to her face as he whispers something.
“Oh, Sam. Stop,” Maya playfully whines before giving him a light smack with the back of her hand.
I narrow my eyes. This amount of philandering is a bit much, even for them. I wonder if there’s more here than meets the eye?
Telling myself that I don’t care, I decide to show Sam that I’m perfectly capable of ignoring him, and turn to Micah. “Hey, do you want to work on the next part together?”
My lab partner does a double take at me. “You want to work with me? On an individual assignment?”
“Sure, why not?” I ask, but it’s clear I’m out of my element. If I could work alone on every experiment, I would, and everyone knows it. Micah’s reaction is completely understandable.
His gaze flicks from me to his paper. “Um, okay. This is what I have so far.”
As he slides his work toward me, I note the jumbled mess of calculations. There doesn’t seem to be any rhyme or reason to his organization. With a sigh, I try not to sound condescending as I suggest ways to keep the information neat. I’m honestly trying to help, but Micah seems to be a bit sensitive whenever he receives criticism.
He pulls his paper back. “On second thought, I’ll just finish it up myself. Thanks, though.”
I deflate, my shoulders sagging, so I put my focus back on my work. Maybe try to focus is the better way to put it. Between Maya’s giggles and Sam’s whispers, I can’t concentrate long enough to get anything done. Reaching into my backpack, I pull out my earbuds and pop them in. As I click the play icon on my phone, I’m basked in sweet melodies instead of shameless flirtation, and I’m back on track.
I finish the measurements portion and move onto the calculations when Dr. Hinkle taps me on the shoulder. Taking out an ear-bud, I look at him.
“Sorry, Brynn. No headphones. I need all your attention on your work,” he says.
With a despondent nod, I put them away. Great. I’m right back where I started.
“Now you can contribute to the group, Brynn,” Sam says.
I whip my head up to glare at him. “And what exactly do I need to contribute?”
He nonchalantly shrugs a shoulder. “You’re, like, the second smartest person at the table. Your input might be useful.”
If I was a lithium metal, Sam’s words would be water. They ignite a fire in me, exploding from deep within my gut to radiate throughout my body. I want to leap across this table and tear that smug smirk off his face.
But that’s what he wants. He wants me to react so he knows he got to me. Well, too bad.
With a deep breath, I turn a friendly, albeit fake, smile on him. I pitch forward to look at his paper. “Well, it’s a good thing you asked.” I point to his first calculation. “You’ve switched your chemical amounts here. If you mix these like this, it’ll ruin your result.”
Sam narrows his eyes before he scans his work. His skepticism turns to disdain as he realizes I’m right. Grimacing, he sighs. “Thanks.”
“Don’t mention it,” I say in my most bubbly voice.
Our heated glares threaten to set off the fire alarm until Maya butts in. “Don’t let it get to you, Sam. It was a silly mistake. Now that you’ve got it sorted out, Brynn can go back to her own work.” The bite undercutting her words pulls me out of my angry staring contest.
She and Sam return to their own little world, and I’m left to myself. I should be glad. Obviously, Sam is still miffed from our fight last week. Probably even more so now that I’ve one-upped him in front of Maya, but he seems to recover quickly, falling back into their whisper-giggle routine.
I guess this is my sign that I imagined the attempted kiss. Relief should be flooding me.
So, why do I feel the weight of disappointment settling in my chest?