Gritting my teeth, I ran up the steps. The wood was caked in a fine layer of filth that I assumed the guys who lived here didn’t care about, and I was thankful the ones I lived with weren’t as bad. I beat on the bedroom door like I was raiding the place, and after a few curse words it swung inward.
Alexander gaped at me. He wasn’t wearing a shirt, and he looked like total shit. He hadn’t shaved and maybe he’d done the same thing I had, simply holed up to wait out the storm of crap swirling in his guts. The fact that we were even slightly alike pissed me off even more.
I pointed at him. “You fucking quit.”
He hung his head and his cheeks flushed that red I’d always enjoyed seeing, but now that I knew him better—and knew Micah—I could tell he wasn’t angry. He wasembarrassed.
And I hated that I knew that.
And I hated that I cared.
“Why give up now?” I raised my hands toward him because I half wanted to slap him, but then let them fall to my sides.
He shrugged and crossed his arms. The bruises on his face were healing into a sickly green, and I knew mine didn’t look much better. Thinking about the injuries reminded me of Micah, and all the pain and anger that had been boiling in me since that shit went down exploded until I couldn’t breathe.
“You fucking tell Micah all the shady shit you pulled. Put this into perspective so I can talk to him.” I jabbed his chest, and he shoved me backward. I stopped, and so did he.
“You want me to help you bang my dad? Are you insane? He doesn’t even fuck guys!” Alexander’s face crumpled like a confused toddler. My baby brother Asuka was more mature.
I raised an eyebrow at him, and he groaned.
“Fucking fine,” I snapped, then turned to stalk toward the stairs. Before I got to the end of the hall, he grabbed my shoulder and spun me around. I was ready to swing, but he backed off fast.
“Why do you care that I quit?” he asked quietly.
I bit the inside of my cheek until it hurt. “Because you put me through a bunch of bullshit. Something should at least come out the other end of it. Something good. Fire forges gold.”
“It also burns cities,” he said, tone low.
I grinned.
“What?” he snapped.
“This conversation reminds me of an Alexander the Great movie I watched with Micah.”
Alexander—the less than great one in front of me—rubbed the back of his neck and jutted his jaw toward me. “Are you telling me you watched his stupid movies with him?”
Anger had me ready to throw a punch instantly. I didn’t know why he got under my skin so fast. “Don’t talk to me about Micah if you can’t say anything nice.”
“Did you watch his crap with him or not?” He stared at me like the answer was important.
“Yeah, okay? It’s fun, and he’s cute when he’s excited about things he likes.”
Alexander’s brow furrowed and he stared at the floor between our feet.
“Whatever. I’m done with this,” I said, all at once exhausted. I shot looks over my shoulder as I got to the stairs, then hustled down and outside. I had a lot to think about if I wanted to get back together with Micah, which I still did.
And I would have to get back to classes or my dad would fly to New Gothenburg to see what was going wrong, and I definitely didn’t want that right now. I’d given him my password so he could check my grades, and I probably had a few zeros from projects I hadn’t turned in yet. He would assume I was in a dangerous kind of trouble that wasn’t in my life right now, and I was doing exactly as he’d told me, which was keep my head low.
Except for ending up in a jail cell.
Scrubbing at my face, I sighed as I made it to the sidewalk. Alexander’s house was about three miles from school, and with a shrug, I started jogging. I had to get into better shape or Milo would pout at me a lot, and I didn’t have time for that.
After my workout, I went home to shower, and then I forced myself to go to my afternoon classes. By the time the evening rolled around I was starting to feel better. Milo sat in the passenger seat of the Boxter, playing a game on his phone as I drove around in Micah’s neighborhood. After psyching myself up for it, I did the loop around his cul-de-sac. His car was parked in the driveway, so that meant he’d decided to work at home, not the library as usual. I hated the change.
Was he doing it to avoid me?
Was he doing it because he was sad, too?
