time to shave this morning. Whether it’s the surprise phone call or the way Annie’s looking at me, nonjudgmental and patient, I continue.
“The money I saved from working with Wicked in Philly was supposed to pay for college. I had two years’ worth. My dad thought I owed it to him.”
Her shiny lips curve, incredulous. “He locked you out. You owed him nothing.” Her voice is soothing, but under the surface, there’s an echo of anger.
“He has his reasons for thinking I did.” My chest contracts as the memories wash over me, things I’ve buried deep down where they belong. “I told him if I did that, we were even and he could never ask me for anything again. He promised.
“So, on my eighteenth birthday, we went to the bank and I signed over every penny. I haven’t talked to him since.”
My phone dings once more with a voicemail notification. I hit Delete and shove the phone in my pocket.
“Aren’t you going to listen to it?” she asks.
“No. Either he’s saying everything’s great now that I’m out from under his roof, or he’s blown through the money and wants more.”
I start walking again, my motions stilted, and she follows.
“I don’t blame him,” I say after half a block. “You get too dependent on people, they find a way to take from you. It’s human nature.”
“But relationships aren’t one-way. When you say no to someone because you’re afraid they’ll take from you, you’re also saying no to what they could give you.”
“Which is what?”
The little noise in her throat makes me look over, and I’m surprised to see her smiling. “You have to say yes to find out.”
I turn that over as we come to a little dive bar tucked into a strip mall at the corner.
She stares at it longingly. “My car’s right behind that building, but it seems like a waste to go home. I shaved my legs and everything.”
My attention drags down her body. Her strappy shoes with fuck-me heels. The black dress that hugs her curves. The hint of makeup lining her eyes, the gloss making her lips shine.
It's a bad idea, but whether it's the look on her face as if maybe she needs this or a feeling in me like maybe I do, I can’t say no.
“I missed out on dinner too,” I admit. “Maybe they’ve got cheese fries.”
Her face lights up like I just promised her the fucking sun.
Inside the dive restaurant are a dozen students and a few older people. There’s an arcade at one end with a billiard table.
Annie makes a beeline for the billiard table. “Oh yeah. This is it.” The desire in her voice has the hairs lifting on my neck even before her gaze finds mine. Wanna play pool?
Adrenaline hits me, a rush that’s too intense given her innocent question.
Fucking yes, I want to play pool. After the call from my dad, I want it so badly I ache.
“We need stakes,” she decides, glancing at the chalkboard menu over the bar. “Loser buys cheese fries.”
“Not enough,” I argue. “Whoever sinks a ball gets to ask a question.”
We go to the bar to order sodas, then set our Cokes on the edge of the billiard table. I reach for the cues on the wall as she leans over the felt and racks up the balls. “Are you dating that girl who was at the pool house and the party?” she asks casually, “or is it only sex?”
The light hanging over the table casts her face half in shadows. That coupled with her low, confident voice, has me doing a double-take.
“My bad.” Annie takes a cue from me and breaks, and one ball drops into the corner pocket. She smiles, slow and satisfied, before lifting her gaze to mine. “So, is it only sex?”
A voice deep down tells me I should lie, that it’s better for all of us.
But she won and she asked, and I can’t reward her with anything less than the truth.
“She’s my tutor.”
Annie’s smile melts away as she straightens. “But I walked into the pool house that morning after Carly’s party and she was there.”
I take a drink of my soda, eye her over the cup. “I met her my first week here. Knew I’d need some help in chemistry and physics, and she tutors both.”
“She came over at midnight?” Annie arches a dark brow, and I mimic her in response.
“I wanted someone to talk to without a stake in all this. It was a fucked-up week.