“That you don’t hold grudges.” I laugh, grabbing water and then taking the seat next to her. “You’ve had something against me since we were paired together.”
“I don’t hold grudges over small things.”
I expect her to fill me in more, but she says nothing else.
“So, you do have an issue with me?” I question, and she shrugs. “If you don’t tell me what it is, we won’t be able to fix it.”
“It’s not important,” she says. “I don’t want it to take up our work time.”
I place my hand on the top of her laptop and shut it, her hands still typing away until the last minute.
“Look at that; we have a few minutes to spare.” I push. “What do you have against me?”
“Nothing.”
“You’re lying.”
“How would you know?”
“I just do.”
“How do you know it has anything to do with you?” she argues. “How do you know I’m just not a fan of strangers?”
“Becausewearen’t strangers,” I respond, and her face falls. “I’ve played hockey with your brother for years.”
Her expression changes, and I can’t quite read it, “Oh, right.”
“But Brinley, you let her in with no questions.” I cross my arms. “And she was a stranger.”
“I trust her.”
“So, you don’t trust me?”
Silence.
“Why?” I push.
She opens her laptop.
“Ember, why don’t you trust me?” I mumble. “Damn, forget trust; why don’t you like me? Or at least tolerate me.”
“I’d say this is tolerating.”
“What happened that you would rather work with anyone else but me?”
Silence—again.
“Cool, don’t say anything,” I whisper. “As per usual.”
“You wanna know why I don’t like you?” She cracks, swinging her body to face me, and as she does, her legs brush against mine and send a chill up my spine. I ignore it.
“Yes, finally. That’s all I’ve been wanting!”
“You’re a dick.”
“I’m gonna need a little more than that, Bowman.”
“Freshman year was the worst year of my life.” Her eyes search mine like she’s trying to find an answer, but I can see the tears glossing over her dark blue eyes. I don’t think I’ve ever realized how blue they are. “And it was all because of you.”
