“I am.”
I laugh again, slower this time, disbelief more than anything.
“Come off it,” I shake my head. “Jelly, you really need to be more careful about who you give that pussy to.”
“I am,” she says calmly.
“No, you’re not. Because if you were, you’d know being with me isn’t temporary. I don’t just sling my dick around. If I lie with you, you’re mine. Point. blank.”
She blinks, then scoffs.
“Youaredelusional. It was one time, Jabari. A mistake. I regret it. I barely even remember anything. And it’s not happening again. Also—” she jabs a finger at my chest — “stop calling me Jelly.”
“Francine.” My voice drops. “You let the fucking loser pizza delivery guy hit, but now suddenly you’ve got standards with me?Me? Do you know who I am? Do you know how many women would?—”
She cuts me off. “Oh, I know exactly who you are. And it changes nothing for me.”
Her voice is low.
“There’s one reason I slept with him,” she says. “I wanted to. That’s it. And I don’t want you. Not anymore. Now, if that bothers you so much, take it up with the women who wants to be in my position so badly. Make them deal with your whining.”
Oh.
And therealme wakes up. The hardened me.
The me that I thought I could put away when I was with her.
The one that stops caring about feelings and just aims to win.
So I straighten, and my smile goes cold.
“Right,” I say. “’Cause you’re so easy to deal with, yeah.”
Her eyes narrow. “Come again?”
“You heard me,” I say quietly. “You move like everyone’s meant to just put up with you, but you’re not exactly a walk in the park yourself. All you do is complain about everything and do shit you regret. You’re tapped, honestly.”
She lets out this slow, mocking laugh. “Oh, please. I’m tapped, but you thought we were ‘starting something’ just ’cause we slept together?”
“Nah,” I shoot back. “You’re tapped ’cause you’d rather mess with any random wasteman than someone actually on your level.”
“Psychoanalyzing me?” she cocks an eyebrow. “And what makes you thinkyou’reanywhere near my level?”
“You’re right. I’mwayabove you,” I clarify. “And I’m not even talking career-wise. I’m talking in an emotional sense. You’re rubbish at handling your feelings. Soon as someone gets close, you hide behind sarcasm and that little superiority ‘I’m better than everyone’ act you’ve perfected.”
I hit a nerve, but she recovers fast.
“Funny,” she says, sweetly mean. “I was gonna say the same thing about you, except yours is worse. At least IknowI’m fucked up. You strut around like God sent you personally, whenreally, you’re just a scared mummy’s boy that can’t hack not being adored.”
My jaw tightens.
She steps closer.
“You think confidence and rudeness are the same thing,” she goes on. “You bulldoze everyone, then act confused when they don’t clap for you. You’re not confident, Jabari. You’re draining.”
“And you’re lonely,” I say.
Her lips part.
