“I said hold on.” She spats to her side, as if I’m standing to her right rather than in front of her.
Hold on? HOLD ON?
Excuse me, but she better hold the fuck on.
She did not just give me attitude. She has no idea the kind of button she just pushed. I’m already steamed up from being suspended from practice, having to deal with Badcock stealing my position right from under me, and my horrific batting average, now this little tartlet in the frumpy shirt thinks she can give me attitude?
Ohhhh nooooo.
Not today.
Not fucking today.
“You know what they say about millennials. They’re so caught up in their phones they suffer when it comes to human interaction.”
Her brow creases and slowly, so fucking slowly, she looks up at me, then to the side, and then back to me, almost as if she’s confused that I’m looking at her. “Are you talking about me?”
“Are you ignoring me to text your friends about me?”
A stain of red covers her cheeks as she slides her phone down to her side. “I . . . I wasn’t—”
“Cut the crap. I saw my name in your texts.”
Despite her short height, she tries to act stern but just comes out a horrible nervous mess. “How d-d-dare you read my texts. That’s pr-private.”
“I’m not even sorry about it, not when you’re talking about me.” I nod to her phone at her side. “Let me see what you said.”
She clutches her phone to her chest. “No. That’s n-none of your concern.”
“It is when it has to do with me. I’m not an idiot, even though I get that everyone knows who I am. My goddamn face is plastered all over streetlight flags throughout campus. What I don’t appreciate is being talked about behind my back.”
She tugs on her long shirt and looks to the side when she says, “Well then, you must be extremely g-grumpy because I’m not the only one talking about you behind your back. I bet sixty percent of this campus mentions you at least once a day, and it isn’t about how you verbally attack people in the panini l-line.” She pushes her glasses up on her nose, her long-winded response surprising given how her knees are knocking against each other.
Geared up, I let out a roar of a response. “I am not verbally attack—” I take a calming breath, realizing that yes, I am verbally attacking her. “I was trying to apologize, but you were rudely texting on your phone and didn’t give me a chance.”
“I was texting my friends, who think you’re a god on the field, that I was standing right behind you. Sorry for exciting them,” she says in the most passive-aggressive tone I’ve ever heard.
A smile pulls at my face. “Your friends, huh? Any of them blonde?”
“Yeah, one of them. Blond hair on HIS head and chest.”
My smile falters.
“He’s not into dudes, but I can still give him your number if you’re interested.” She pushes her glasses up on her nose again and even though the words coming out of her mouth sound snarky, I can tell she’s nervous from the shake of her hand and the way her eyes shift from side to side.
Cooling my jets a little, I say, “I’ll pass.”
We stand there awkwardly, staring at each other for a few seconds, nothing to be said. She nods her head behind me and the bravado in her voice drops when she says, “The line moved.”
I glance over my shoulder and see that I’m still behind two people. At least I can reach the panini order form to drop it off so I don’t have to wait forever.
Not sure if I should apologize at this point, I press my lips together and spin back around to grab a piece of paper and pencil. Staring blankly at the order form, the words all mix together, pastrami nowhere to be found in the meat section as my mind floats back to the girl behind me.
Hating that I’m letting this entire situation bother me—old Carson would have laughed it off—I turn back around and say, “I wasn’t trying to be a dick.”
She glances up at me, her phone still clutched to her chest. “Yeah, okay.”
“How come it feels like you’re not accepting my apology?”
“Well, technically, you didn’t apologize, you j-just said you weren’t trying to be a dick.” She adjusts her glasses again and looks away.
“That was an apology.”
She pushes her hair behind her ear, and that’s when I catch