“Fuck, Luke!” Tanner grunts when he flies back, hitting the boards. There is nothing better than waking up to a morning on the ice to work out your aggression. I might be the only person on the team that doesn’t mind morning practice. I love pushing myself. The way the adrenaline courses through me the moment my skates hit the ice. The burn of my thighs as I push them to give me more. “I’m on your side,” he shouts up at me from the ground. I offer him my hand, but he doesn’t take it. “You didn’t knock the sense out of me.” He gets to his feet on his own.
“Next time maybe you’ll watch where I’m going,” I tell him before skating off and finishing the rest of practice. I’m the first one back to the locker room, showering and changing quickly for classes.
“You’re ready.” Grant appears surprised by this. Not sure why he’s paying attention either way. “You’re always late, so I figured you would be for classes.” He’s not wrong. I operate at my own speed. If someone doesn’t like it, I really don’t give a fuck. Honestly, I’ve never had a reason to be any other way.
“I hope you’re getting paid to stalk me.”
“That would be nice.” I don’t know if he’s being serious or not. I wouldn’t put it past Coach to really hire me a babysitter. I was thinking of it as a joke, but I might not have been far off the mark. “I’ll leave the stalking to you.”
“What?” Now that gives me pause. Does he know what I did last night? Am I completely aware of what I did last night? It could have been a fever dream. If it was, why do I still have all the information I lifted off my brother’s computer? Maybe I even used his login for the school and possibly changed a few things.
“I’m only messing with you,” Grant chuckles before it quickly evaporates. “You’re not stalking anyone, right?”
“Is that against the babysitting rules?” Grant’s eyes search my face. If he thinks he’ll get an answer there, he’ll be waiting for the rest of his fucking life, which might be short at this rate.
“I don’t know if you’re teasing me or being serious.” He runs his fingers through his still wet hair. “You’re not the teasing type, but I don’t see you stalking anyone either. That means you’d give a shit about something.”
He’s got a point there. I used to care, but I found caring doesn’t do you any favors. You might as well do what you want. You get screwed either way.
“I’ve got class,” I tell him, closing my gym locker.
He follows after me. I shoot him a glare that doesn’t do shit. I am really losing my touch, and I’m pretty sure it started with a gorgeous girl with dark shiny hair. She couldn’t care less if I stare or not, and I cannot stop staring no matter how hard I try.
That’s why I did the things I did last night. The logic made sense to me. If I know where she is and what she is doing, I can avoid her. That was my thought process. Then I would forget about her and the shit she does to my head. It’s better for both her and me.
At least that was very much my plan. It was a solid one. Until it was no longer my plan, and I suddenly have a few classes withher now. It’s time to keep an even better eye on her. I’m sure if I spend a fraction of time with her, she’ll annoy me like all the rest. Then I won’t think about her, and I can go back to my normal life that didn’t have any distractions.
It’s not hard to get people to leave you alone. A few mean comments and it’s done with. I’m not putting up niceties to make others comfortable when I’m sure as fuck not comfortable around any of them.
Honestly, I’m not sure I’m comfortable with myself at this point either.
Grant makes small talk that I’m not paying attention to. I didn’t know a person could talk so much.
“Does the silence make you uncomfortable?” I ask him when we’re almost to Striker Hall.
“Does talking make you uncomfortable?” he tosses right back at me. I don’t respond, but he didn’t want one. “Where are we going?”
“I’m going to class.” I yank the door open.
“Isn’t your first class...?” I stop walking.
“You’re really babysitting me.” I was joking about it.
“I know your schedule; cool it.”
I stare at him. Did he tell me to cool it?
“Grant—”
“I know; you’ll murder me in my sleep.”
“Why would I wait for you to sleep?”
That calm, cool demeanor drops from Grant’s expression, giving me a glimpse of another side of him. Interesting. “Your scare tactics don’t work on me, nor does your bullying.” What’s he hiding under there? At least I don’t mask who I am. You know what you’re getting.
“I’m not a bully.” That shouldn’t piss me off. I shouldn’t give a fuck if he or anyone else thinks I am one, but I’d always seen my father as one. I would never want to follow in his footsteps,or I’ve done my best not to anyway. Starting to think it’s not working.
“You sure about that?”
