I Hate You Page 36

“Hey, don’t worry about my cousin. Dillon knows I do whatever I want. He gave me a box of condoms the day I arrived on campus.” She laces her hand with mine, and I stare down at our intertwined fingers.

I never held hands with Charisma. I let my fingers brush hers but never went for it.

I should have. I should have.

What the fuck is wrong with me?

“Blaze? Are you listening?”

“Sorry. Random thought. Happens all the time.”

She studies me, and her shoulders slump as a knowing glint grows in her eyes. “It was that girl, wasn’t it? Dillon said her name was Charisma.”

I shrug.

“She’s the one you broke up with last fall, right?”

I nod. “I guess. We weren’t a couple.” I pushed her away before it got to that.

She huffs out a laugh. “I didn’t think so. She doesn’t look like your type, to be honest. I mean, I though she’d be…different.”

“How?” I frown.

“You know more…sorority girl, beautiful, or at least Southern. Her accent is super weird.”

“She is in a sorority—Chi-O—and she is beautiful.”

“I’m rushing Theta next fall. I can’t wait.”

I’m not listening. “She is my type. She’s fucking amazing. She makes me laugh my ass off. She’s believed in me since day one, okay? Never a doubt in her mind about what I can do with a football—”

I inhale sharply, reining myself in.

She frowns. “Look, I’m just repeating what everyone knows you said to her at that party last year. You dumped her in a big way, so I just assumed she’s still trying to get with you.” She shrugs. “She’s got some nerve kissing you, right?”

“She’s got nerves of steel,” I say tightly. My head is all over the place. “And who knows what I said at that party?” I want to kick them in the nuts. I want to kick myself. I was so angry that night, all of my shit bubbling up, knowing I had to let her go.

“Dillon was there. He may have mentioned it. It was a huge party,” she reminds me.

A long exhalation comes out, and I look away from her questioning eyes. Charisma…she thinks she’s not right for me. She thinks…fuck…my words to her. But we had this conversation, she and I; we worked it out, and I explained to her what I really meant, yet inside, maybe it never stuck with her. She still thinks she’s not up to my standards, which is such a fucking joke because she’s all— “Blaze? Do you want my number? I can put it in your phone. You can call me when you’re less tired. I’ll answer.” Her hand is on my chest, playing with one of my buttons.

I remove her hand slowly. “No. Take care and I’ll see you around.”

I hear her huff of exasperation as I walk away.

It’s almost midnight by the time I get back to my dorm. Dillon isn’t home yet, and I’m glad to be alone. I fall into my bed and stare at the ceiling fan, my head a mess, my thoughts darting from football to Charisma.

With a heavy sigh, I reach over and grab my phone.

It was the best kiss I ever had too. Tomorrow. My dorm.

I clutch my phone and wait for her reply.


24


“Morning, VB. You’re awfully quiet.”

He looks in my direction then turns back to stare out the window. A few soft feathers lie at the bottom of his cage. Odd. I get out of bed, open the cage, and reach in to pet him on his head.

“Cat got your tongue? Although if it did, it’d probably have the rest of you too.” He gives me a slow blink and I frown. “Too insensitive? Even for you? Sorry, buddy. I had a shitty night.”

Leaning down, I rub his head, and his beak opens as if he might say something, but he doesn’t.

“Nothing sassy for me?”

He nudges me to pet him again, and I see white stuff in his eyes. Hmmm.

“Want a cracker?” I make a kissy face at him.

Usually any mention of a cracker and he’s hysterical, but he just bumps my hand to keep petting him.

I frown. “Where’s my smartass bird?”

He blinks at me.

“Vampire Bill? Don’t you have an opinion on my ass today? Is it fat? Skinny?” I turn and shake it at him.

Nothing but silence.

Good Lord. He’s broken.

Chewing on my lips, I head down to the kitchen and grab some lettuce and a banana. Back at the cage, I tear up the lettuce into small strips and lay them in his food bowl. He glances at the food then turns his head to the window. I break up the banana and offer some but get the same result. “Little buddy, you’re scaring me.”

I hear Penelope in the hall and dash out to catch her before she hits the restroom. From the looks of her wild hair, she just woke up. “Hey, come look at Bill. He isn’t sharing his morning opinions or eating his breakfast. There’s something wrong!”

She comes in my room and runs through some of the same things I’ve already tried, pets him, talks to him, tries to hand-feed him the banana, but nothing seems to cheer him up.

“Does Bill want to go to the vet?” she asks, and he throws his head back indignantly—he’s nearly human—and moves his feet in a shuffle.

“How long has he been like this?” she asks.

“I got in late, so maybe since last night. He was fine yesterday…I think.”

“How was your big date?” she asks as she studies the bird, still trying to get him to eat.

“Okay.” I don’t feel like going into details about Blaze being there.

Her gaze flashes at me. “Potential?”

“Friends only. I came home and he went home. Nice guy though. Ma would pee herself.”

She grimaces. “You okay?”

I nod and glance down at my phone, at the text Blaze sent me last night. I haven’t responded.

“Charm? Headache?”

I start, realizing I’m frowning and rubbing my temple. I shake my head and push out a smile. “No, no. What should we do about Vampire Bill?”

She thinks. “The vet is only open until lunch today. I have a morning meeting with a possible agent, but I’ll cancel.” She rubs my arm. “Hey, don’t stress. He’s my bird. I should have noticed if something was up with him yesterday.”

“You’ve had your writer agent meeting planned forever. Don’t do that. I’ll take him.”

Her eyes light up. “I appreciate it. I’ll pay you back. The stinker loves you.”

I wave her off. “You go get ready. I’ll take care of him.”

Half an hour later, I’ve thrown on some old clothes, called the vet, and packed his “baby bag” with crackers, a banana, a soft blanket, and trinkets to keep him calm. Geeze. I’m like a mom—parrot style—as I open the door to Lady Maxima and try to finagle it inside.

It’s a chore to get his cage in the back seat and buckled up with the seat belt, but I manage.

“Crazy bitch, can’t drive,” he says as I crank the car.

“Now you want to talk. Keep your opinions about my driving to yourself, filthy bird.” I smile at him in the rearview mirror. “I guess all that moving around perked you up, huh?”

Fuel level is low.

“I know, I know, but I don’t have time for gas.” Come on, girl. I pat the dashboard.

Fuel level is low.

“Shut up, bitch,” screeches Bill.

“I know she’s annoying,” I tell him as I pull out of the driveway and take off for downtown.

Fuel level is low.

“I want cheese on it,” says the bird as he shuffles back and forth on the perch in his cage. Feathers fall as he flaps his wings.

I laugh. “On what? And don’t we all?”

He just glares at me.

We pull in, and once I’m out of the car, I unbuckle his cage and look for a place to put it so I can grab his baby bag and my purse.

I set him down on the pavement next to the car. Once I have the bags, I turn around and pick up the cage. It’s lighter than normal.

My eyes pop when I see he’s gone.

I spin around in a quick circle, searching the ground, calling his name.

My mouth is dry, anxiety level skyrocketing as I keep turning in circles. “Vampire Bill, please…where are you?”

I start widening my search grid of the parking lot, trying to peer under each car, checking behind tires and anywhere else I can think of.

Music blares from a truck that whips in and parks in an empty spot next to Lady Maxima. I’m on my knees but dash up and run toward my car, heart pounding. Lord, please don’t let a vehicle crush my bird.

My breath whooshes out when Blaze steps out. “What are you doing here?”

He tucks his hands into his pockets. “Was driving past and saw your car. Turned around and came back.”

Oh.

My mind goes back to last night, and then I shake myself.

I let out a little wail. “Will you help me look for Vampire Bill?”

“You lost him?” He looks horrified. “Here? How?”

“It’s a long story.” I quickly run through what happened this morning. “The latch must have come undone in the car. I don’t know…” A cold wind blows my hair and I realize it’s a mess; I have zilch makeup on and my outfit consists of joggers and a baggy Waylon sweatshirt. Perfect.

“He can’t fly. He’s around here somewhere,” he says.

“But what if something gets him before I find him?”

“Charisma.” He stalks toward me and takes my hands. I realize I’ve been wringing them. “Hey, calm down. Where have you looked already?”

But…

What…

I look down at our clasped fingers, the way his thumb is rubbing the top of my hand.

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