Honey and Spice(86)
Zack hadn’t said a word to me since he arrived, but he was always near, always talking around me, beside me. Malakai had taken my hand, squeezed it, looked me in the eye, and said, “You sure you’re okay, Scotch? We can go.” And I’d replied with an easy nah, that there was no way I would leave anywhere because of Zack. Now I slightly regretted that decision as Zack repeated his question and necked his drink, looking straight at me.
“Come on.” He grinned. “Can’t only be me who’s shared the love.”
He wasn’t expecting an answer; he just wanted my attention. He also wanted to remind Malakai that he’d accessed me first.
Zack directed his gaze at Malakai. “Ay, that’s right. Who was it again? Chioma, Shanti, and some others, you been about, innit?”
He was trying to rile Malakai. I felt Malakai tense, but his voice remained level as he looked at Zack. “Is there a point to this?”
Zack laughed. “No vex. Look, man, I’m just trying to get to know you. There must be something special about you to make you the first guy on campus that Kiki claims.” Zack had strangely mutated the way he spoke when talking to Malakai, slackened his tongue to mimic Kai’s Naija-flavored south London accent. It made me feel queasy.
His eyes roamed over to me. “Because you’re picky, innit? Any man that’s had a chance to be with you is blessed.”
I held his gaze. “Anyone want a snack? Crisp bowl is empty. . . . I’ll be right back.”
Aminah shifted to follow me but I shook my head. Malakai’s brows furrowed gently.
I forced a smile out, murmuring, “I’m good. He’s gonna wait a minute and then follow me out. Let him. I need to deal with this by myself.” Malakai didn’t look convinced, but he released a tensed-jaw nod.
I’d just emptied a bag of Chilli Heatwave Doritos into a large, far-too-fancy crystal bowl in the sprawling farmhouse kitchen when I felt his presence behind me.
“You’re a prick, Zack.”
I put the bowl down and turned around, leaning against the counter to look up at his infuriatingly easy grin. He bent forward to grab a crisp and popped it into his mouth. “Don’t play like it’s not what you like about me.”
“I promise, I like nothing about you. Why are you here?”
He shrugged a shoulder. He was, of course, wearing a muscle T-shirt. He technically looked good because he always technically looked good. Everything was technically measured to the sum of Handsome but all I felt for him at this moment was repulsion. His pretty made my teeth ache, his cologne was suffocating, and his eyes had a sickly shine to them. Was it possible for a vagina to invert?
He stepped closer to me. “Ain’t it obvious? Kiki, I’m here for you. I’m not an idiot. You kissed him to make me jealous and it worked. Not talking to you is killing me.”
It was a premise hinged on the baffling delusion that we ever talked in the first place. I smiled sweetly. “Then die.”
As usual, my words didn’t land. He was living in his own American-teen soap opera. This was a pivotal moment in Kingsford Valley. He squinted, reaching out to caress my face. I shifted and his hand dropped.
“I fucking hate seeing you with him. You can drop the act—”
“Zack, I’m with Malakai because I want to be with him.” The lie didn’t taste like one.
“Babe.”
“I’m very close to a bread knife, right now. It’s serrated.”
“We can do this for real, this time. I see you, going to parties, out there, now. Imagine us doing that together? Ruling this place? Every king needs a queen.”
I snorted. “You’re a democratically elected leader, but since elections are coming up, maybe not for that long. There are a few more people contesting this year, innit? I saw on the blogs. People aren’t happy with your policy of being useless. Speaking of, what the hell are you up to with the Whitewell Knights? How long do you think you can play both sides for?”
Something in his gaze shifted, but he carried on smiling at me. “I’m trying to strengthen our foothold in Whitewell. Form an understanding. Blackwell just needs to see the vision. You can help with that. Together we’re a dream team. You endorse me on your show, maybe I can have you on my platform as VP. I mean you have amazing ideas, and—” He stopped as the cackle burst forth from me.
Why did I ever think Zack wasn’t funny? Zack was fucking hilarious. He didn’t even have what it took to be less transparent, he didn’t have enough personality to couch his shallowness in. Before, he wanted me because I rejected him—it was purely about possession and pride—but now it was because I was a tool for him. My feelings were just a tedious obstacle to maneuver around till he reached his goal.
I stepped closer to him and started speaking extremely slowly. “Zack, let me make this as clear as possible for you. I don’t want you. I won’t ever want you. You are not going to use me to win this election just because I have a few hundred more followers on ProntoPic and Brown Sugar’s numbers are going up. And you need to back the fuck up right now, before I grab the kitchen knife behind me and make this party a murder mystery.”
Zack moved back, but only slightly. “You’re crazy.”
“I am.”
“It’s sexy.”
“Get away from me.”