The elevator doors open, and she steps inside. “You left me to spend the night with someone named Kina, so no. I don’t feel very different at all.”
And then she’s gone.
“ZOEY!” I yell so loud my throat hurts, but she disappears into the elevator anyway. “FUCK!”
My neighbor’s door flies open, and he stares at me, pure annoyance across his features. “Dude. What the fuck?”
“Fuck off,” I snarl and head inside, slamming my door.
It’s over. Everything is over.
31
Jude
Levi is looking at me like I’m fucking insane. I don’t care. I don’t care about fucking anything anymore. I shove my clothes in the drawers in the dresser nearest my bed and ignore him completely. I know it’s not going to last. Levi will make me talk to him. I wish the coach hadn’t put us together on this trip, but it wasn’t just about the White House, it was about team bonding, so they made us double up. And I know sticking me with Levi was purposeful. Coach knows something got rocky between us last season, and this is his attempt at fixing it. But Levi is the last person on the planet I want to spend the next seventy-two hours with.
There’s a knock at the door as I slam shut a drawer with the last of my things. Levi’s bed is closest to the door. He’s been sitting on the edge of it watching me with dark, serious eyes. He leans over and twists the knob. Duncan walks in, smiling and adjusting the backward Thunder baseball cap he’s wearing. “Anybody starving? Wanna grab a bite?”
“I could grab something,” Levi says. “But something light. Coach has a team dinner planned, remember?”
Before Duncan can reach back and close the door behind him, Eddie appears, and I realize there is someone I want to be around even less than Levi. He’s in shorts and a tank top with “Spread ’Em” written across the front, and he’s holding his phone up. At first I think he’s taking a picture.
“Don’t,” I growl. All three of them turn to look at me with surprise on their faces. “No fucking pictures.”
Eddie, the piece of shit, laughs at me. “It’s video. Snapchat. Like a million chicks follow my account.”
I storm over to him and whack his hand. Hard. The phone goes flying across the room. Levi ducks as it sails over his head and hits the wall above his bed. Eddie swears at me. “Dude. What the fuck!”
Duncan runs a hand through his crazy red hair and sighs. “Shit, Jude.”
Levi does that thing that he does where he somehow makes himself seem bigger than his six-foot-three frame and moves to stand between Eddie and me, his back to Eddie and his eyes leveled on me. “Darby, Rollins, go.”
He’s using that tone he has that no one would dare contradict. Duncan nods and gives me one last confused glance before turning to the door. Eddie grabs his phone off the floor, grumbling under his breath, and it’s more annoying than nails on a chalkboard.
“And this is a video-free weekend. In fact, anytime I’m around, video is off limits.”
Eddie scowls at me. “Jesus, it’s not like I’m the one who put your dick on the web.”
I take a step toward him, but Levi blocks my way. Duncan grabs Eddie by the shoulder. “Come on. Let’s go. See you guys at dinner.”
“Not if I see you first!” Eddie bitches at me.
Duncan shoves him out the door and closes it with a hard thud. Levi hasn’t taken his eyes off me since I hit the phone. “I’m going to talk to management. We should ban all social media from these fucking things. And from game nights and practices and from the fucking locker room. We shouldn’t even be allowed social media accounts. They’re fucking garbage anyway.”
“You want to tell me what this is really about?” he asks, calmly folding his arms over his chest.
“He only uses those accounts to get fucking laid,” I reply.
“Yes, well, he needs all the help he can get,” Levi replies with a poker face. “He doesn’t have your happy, easygoing charm.”
That’s a dig at my current mood. Levi is making fucking jokes. My rage reaches lethal levels. “Must be nice to be able to joke about everything. Is that what happens when a girl loves you back? I wouldn’t know, but good for you. Now if you don’t mind, I’m going to take a fucking nap, so good-bye.”
I turn and storm over to my bed. I sit on the edge and kick off my shoes before pulling my shirt over my head and throwing it on the ground. I drop back and cover my eyes with my right forearm. The room is silent. He’s not saying anything, but he’s not going anywhere either. That lasts a couple minutes; then I hear him move around the room, but I don’t hear the door, so I know he didn’t leave. A second later his voice fills the air.
“What happened with Zoey?”
“It’s over,” I tell him, but my voice is hoarse. “And don’t ask me what I did, because I will fucking punch you in the face.”
