“Wait.” She squints at me. “Youdidn’t?”
“It’s still early,” I say, shrugging, trying to play it cool. “Got two weeks. No rush.”
Tara tilts her head.
“Huh.”
“What?”
“Nothing.”
I raise a brow. “That was not a ‘nothing’ huh. That was a ‘something’ huh.”
She shrugs, far too amused. “It’s just…interesting. You assumed you’d have a partner immediately, didn’t you?”
“I mean… yeah.” I frown. “Because I will.”
She just sips her coffee.
I squint at her.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing,” she says again, but now I know she’s messing with me.
“You’re being annoying.”
“You’re being defensive.”
“I’m not defensive.”
“You’re literally scowling right now.”
I stop scowling.
“Shut up,” I mutter, pushing off the doorframe. “I’ll find a partner. No big deal.”
“Mmmhmm.”
I ignore her.
But as I walk back to my room, I refresh my email again. Nothing. I set my jaw. I decide to send out more emails, this time I take a little more time and make it more personal.
I push back from my desk and head downstairs, figuring I’ve done enough for now.
Ethan is exactly where I left him—sprawled on the couch, controller in hand, absolutely locked in on his game.
“You motherfucker!” he shouts at the screen.
I pick up a controller and join in.
8
DELILAH
Ishould not be here.
I should be in my freezing apartment, wrapped in a blanket, aggressively ignoring my problems. Instead, I’m at Moe’s Bar, nursing a whiskey sour that tastes too sweet and not nearly strong enough for the absolute embarrassment of my day.
