Double damn him.
I don’t know how yet, but somehow this is Drew’s fault. I feel it.
I turn back to the fridge pretending I’m not affected by the garlicky goodness he’s now bribing me with and rip open the freezer door. It’s mostly empty. A few trays of ice cubes and two frozen pizzas are the only items inside even though Drew promised me I’d have ice cream for the rest of my life. With a sigh I close the top door and open the fridge.
These contents aren’t much more appealing. Drew and I meshed our shelf space together when we first moved in, but the most appealing thing on mine is a bottle of ketchup.
“You can’t ignore me forever, Clare.”
“Yes I can.” I snatch a small bag of open carrots from the top shelf and slam the fridge door.
“We had a connection,” Grant calls as I wander out of the kitchen.
I stop before taking the first step upstairs. “The key word ishad.You ruined it with your actions.”
With heavy feet I force myself to walk the stairs at a normal pace even though I want to run away from him as fast as possible. If Grant thinks he’ll win me over with Italian food, he has another think coming. I shove the first carrot in my mouth. It’s dry and crunchier than it should be, but there’s no way I’m leaving my bedroom tonight.
Sequestered in my room with little to do, I get bored quickly. I lie back on my bed, fluff the pillow and stare at the ceiling wondering exactly how early is too early to go to bed. I could use a good night’s sleep.
Some undisclosed amount time of passes this way until a knock on my door jars me from my thoughts.
“Go away!” I yell at the door, not interested in what Grant has to say.
There’s another knock and the door swings opens. “It’s me,” Drew says letting himself into the room.
“I don’t want to see you either.”
He sets a plate piled high with pasta and garlic bread on my desk. The smell quickly takes over my room. My stomach rumbles. I finished off the bag of carrots while daydreaming but they weren’t enough.
“Where’s my ice cream?” I ask not propping my head up to look at the food. If this is his idea of making me give in, he’s crazy.
He laughs. “Long day at work. I didn’t have time to make it to the store.” I scowl at him until he continues. “But I promise I’ll bring a pint home tomorrow.”
“And what, you decided to eat in front of me as a new form of torture?”
“No. I remember sometimes you’re so stubborn you don’t realize when you’re being ridiculous so I brought you this plate of food.”
“I don’t want it.” I adjust the covers around me and make sure not to look at the plate.
“There goes that stubborn thing I mentioned.”
His comment ticks me off and I sit up faster than a NASCAR takeoff. “How can you eat his food?”
Drew sticks a fork in the middle of the large piece of lasagna. “He made a meal for us to extend an olive branch.”
I roll my eyes at him so hard they hurt. “He can shove his olive branch where the sun doesn’t shine.”
Drew flinches. “That sounds more painful than necessary.”
I shrug unconcerned.
“Do you need me to tell you that you’re being a brat or are you aware?” Drew asks, holding the plate out in my direction.
I crinkle up my entire face. I’ll starve before I eat anything Grant cooks.
“You’re better than this, Clare. Is it because you’re hangry?”
I can’t believe he suggested the reason I’m upset is because I’m hungry. I spent most my childhood hungry, and he knows that. “I can’t believe you don’t think this is a big deal.”
