It's Pucking Complicated

Pointless Topic

KNOX

I should get the hint and mind my own f*****g business.

But I can't and I have no idea why.

I don't know if this brave act of hers works on other people, but it has no effect on me whatsoever. I see right through the bullshit. She's in pain all the time and lashes out because of it. Deep down, she's not as bratty and confrontational as she initially seems.

I slide my serrated knife over my steak and shove the fork in my mouth. Isadora barely touches her food. She does a good job of spreading it around so it seems like she's eating, but she's really not. Am I the reason why?

I'm determined not to ask her about her half-brother again for the rest of the night, but the mood has soured and there's nothing left for us to talk about.

Why is she so pissed? I'm trying to help her here. The way she's acting, you'd think I'm offering to take Justin's place.

A group of guys walks past our table and greets me, but I have no idea who they are. A lot of people do that. They're probably students at Hartwell U. I especially hate it when they slap my shoulder like we're old friends when I've never seen them before in my life.

It happens all the time, and not just with guys.

Even when I was much younger, this was always the case. I felt like people only wanted to know me because of what I represented and how popular I was. I've only had a handful of genuine interactions with people in all my life, and those are the ones I consider friends.

By the time I clean my plate, she's barely touched hers, and it becomes clear to me that she won't continue eating. I ask the waiter for the bill and she starts reaching for her purse.

"I got it," I claim, reaching for my wallet.

"No."

"What do you mean no? I said I got it."

Her eyes snap up to mine. "Yeah, I heard you the first time, but we're not on a date, Knox. We're just two people who sat down for a meal. I should pay for what I had."

"I'm the one who invited you."

"That's not the point."

The waiter returns with the receipt, and I write down the amount of the tip and hand him my card before she can say anything. Anger flashes in her eyes and she clears her throat. "We'd like to split the bill, please."

"That's not necessary," I answer dismissively.

I ignore the way she's looking at me. Once we're outside, she starts again. "You have to let me pay you back for that."

"No, I don't, actually," I claim as I unlock my car. "It's not a big deal."

Isadora says nothing as we get inside the car, but I can tell that she's brimming with anger. Too bad. I won't accept any form of payment for her because of it. I don't understand why she's trying to make such a big fuss about it.

It's really nothing.

I start the car and break the silence with the question, "Are you coming along when we go camping?"

"I guess so," she murmurs. "What choice do we have? We have to see this all the way through now."

"Ever gone camping before?"

She turns her body away from me and stares out the window. At first, I think she'll ignore my question completely, but then she says in a low voice, "Yeah. Once. I was thirteen."

"Did you like it?"

"Not really, no."

"Why?"

Her dark gaze flickers to my face. I see a great deal of pain staring back at me, but she looks away and I'm no longer sure. s**t, what the hell happened?

Even the answer she gives me isn't convincing. "Just the whole sleeping on the ground thing with a million insects buzzing in your ear. Wild animals. I don't see the fun of it at all. Are we gonna sleep in tents?"

"Yeah. But there'll be a lot of people around, so you don't have to worry about any danger."

"Will Justin be there?"

"I don't know."

We don't say anything else to each other. I park the car in front of her dorm when we get there, and she turns to look at me as she opens the door. "Friday then, right?"

I nod. "Yeah."

She appears deep in thought, then says, "Maybe you should have my number so you can call me just in case anything changes."

I save her number, then watch her disappear inside the building. I sit for a while, drumming my fingers against the steering wheel as I think about what to do. It's only three in the afternoon now, but I don't feel like going back to my dorm. f**k it. I don't have another choice. I have a class tomorrow morning and I might as well just get some sleep in.

As soon as I open my door, I swear I can smell her perfume. Heck, even my car smells like her now, come to think of it. This makes me think again about what happened earlier with Isadora and I shake my head.

I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone like her.

Sure, her performance around me was much more convincing, and I don’t think anyone who doesn’t know us would guess that it’s just an arrangement. Maybe Halvick’s going to take some time to convince, but three months is a long time.

By then, maybe he’ll be so stressed out that he’ll mess up during every game. His first one was ideal for me, because I’m sure Coach was going to make him captain if he’d done well.

If we just keep this up, he’ll f**k up big time and make a real mess of things, and then I can stop worrying about him taking my place. Pretentious prick. Who does he think he is?

Yeah, I come from a well-off family, too, but I’m not a Halvick, so I don’t have the connections his family has. He thinks the world has to bend for him just because of his last time. It’s pathetic. I haven’t known Isadora for long, but she isn’t like that. Yes, she’s a total f*****g brat most of the time, but she’s nothing like Justin. She doesn’t have that arrogant look in her eye. She doesn’t look down at people.

Then again, she and Halvick not getting along should be the first sign that she was always considered an outsider. Everyone knows that Walter Halvick had an affair with the maid or something and had her. Though he could’ve kept the whole thing quiet, he chose to legitimize her. It’s not hard to assume that the rest of the family doesn’t like her, and why would they? She and Halvick are the same age. She was the product of infidelity and her father rubbed it in everyone’s faces, including his family’s.

No wonder her half-brother thinks she’s the favorite. She very well could be.

But does she know that?

I shouldn’t be wasting time thinking about this. She doesn’t want me to get involved and I should respect her wishes in the very least. She’s not trying to intervene in my life the way I’m doing with hers, but we both know she crossed a line when she kissed me without warning in front of everyone.

I didn’t mind it, though. That’s the truth.

And no, it’s not just because of our agreement and my desire to f**k Halvick over.

But I don’t want to think about that. What would the point even be? I turn on my side and force myself to close my eyes.