Until You (Fall Away, #1.5)(40)



The look in her eyes—that I could see, anyway—wasn’t angry the way it usually was with me. She wouldn’t look at me completely. No, her eyes were guarded and a little sad.

“I like to think so, yes,” she said, facing away from me again.

Her demeanor had me puzzled. She wasn’t timid, but she wasn’t engaging, either. Did she feel bad about what she said to me today?

Well, I didn’t need her pity. I wanted her f*cking anger.

Don’t feel sorry for me.

I wanted her to sit there and own what she did. Don’t apologize and don’t shy away. Get mad at me, Tate.

“Tree? Lightning? Ring any bells?” I continued to antagonize her. I knew there was some danger sitting in a tree during a lightning storm, but it’s nothing we hadn’t done a hundred times when we were kids.

“It never mattered to you before,” she spoke up, emotion gone from her voice as she looked out to our glistening street.

“What? You sitting in a tree during a storm?”

“No, me getting hurt,” she shot back and shut me up.

Damn her.

Every f*cking muscle in my body tightened, and I wanted to shake her and yell, “Yeah, I don’t f*cking care if anything bad ever happens to you!”

But I couldn’t.

I did care—goddammit—and I wanted to punch a wall because of it. Why the hell did I care about anything she did? Who she dated? Who she screwed?

But then, I guess I’d be miserable, too, if my parents hated me.

Her words spread like tentacles through my brain, sucking the life out of everything good I’d ever thought about her. Every memory.

I had to cut her out of my heart and my head.

“Tatum?” I almost hesitated but forced out the rest. “I wouldn’t care if you were alive or dead.”

And I turned my back on her and finally just walked away.





K.C. came huffing over to my table again for lunch the next day. She wouldn’t talk about it, and I wouldn’t ask, but I assumed it was about either Tate or Liam.

Liam, I couldn’t care less about. Tate, I tried to care less about.

“So I just got a text from Zack.” Madoc came up and swung a chair around to straddle it backwards. “Derek Roman will be back in town for the weekend. He wants to race you on Friday night.”

I groaned inwardly, not because I thought I would lose, but because Roman was a huge bucket of dick.

Yeah, what I did to Tate the last few years, this guy did times ten to half of the school when he went here. I might win, or I might lose, but getting my car to finish without a scratch would be a miracle.

I shrugged. “Fine. It’ll be a close race, so the odds will pay off big.”

And I needed the money. My father was pinching me for cash every week, and it wasn’t pocket change. He was smart, though. He wanted money but never got too greedy. Enough to make it hurt me but not enough that I wouldn’t be able to deliver.

“You’re racing Liam, right?” K.C. asked Madoc.

He looked at her across the table and smirked. “I don’t know if we’d call it racing. More like a castration.”

“Just be careful, okay?” She looked concerned.

Really?

Madoc leaned his chest forward into the back of his chair. “K.C.?” His voice was low and husky. “I’m picturing you naked right now.”

And I couldn’t help it. The snort came out, and my chest exploded with laughter, as I buried my forehead into my hand.

“Ugh!” K.C. grumbled in disgust. Standing up, she straightened her cut off jean skirt and stalked off towards the cafeteria doors, but Madoc and I still couldn’t control ourselves.

God, he’s the best.

“K.C., wait!” I shouted after her, not really trying to bring her back.

Madoc stood up, still chuckling. “K.C., come on. It was a joke.”

But she didn’t turn around.

And we kept laughing.





Tate and I had made eye contact a few times throughout the day. The storm in her eyes had turned to a drizzle, but I didn’t spend time thinking about it.

I couldn’t. The shit between us was over. It had been over for her a long time ago, but for me, it needed to end pronto.

Themes class passed peacefully, but Penley had us arrange our desks in circles, so I had a perfect view of Tate sitting across from me. Every once in a while, I would catch her glancing at me, the thoughts behind her eyes unclear.

We’d just moved our desks back into the regular position, and Mrs. Penley was talking about monologues that we were supposed to perform in the next two weeks. I was ready to just get the hell out of here and take Madman to the lake. Poor dog had been ignored lately with my work, school, and being gone on the weekends. Sometimes I took him with me when I spent time with Jax, but sleeping in my bed was usually the only time I got to hang out with him.

It briefly crossed my mind to see if Tate wanted to take him sometimes—give the guy some extra attention—but I pushed that thought out of my head right away.

We weren’t friends, and I wasn’t asking her for shit.

As if reading my thoughts, I noticed her shift in her seat, and I looked up to see her turned around, staring at me.

She blinked, looked down, and back up again like she was sad, lost, and something else. Something like regret or despair. Why was she sad? I narrowed my eyes, and tried to look away. I didn’t need to know what was going on with her.

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