“That’s not what I asked you, Myla.” He makes tut-tut noise in his throat, and I have to stifle the urge to punch him. “Look, Cissy and I talked about this over the weekend.” He takes a deep breath. “Unless you say you’re okay with us, she won’t see me anymore.” The color drains from his face.
I stare at him out of my right eye. Guys like him don’t change overnight. “Why isn’t Cissy asking me this?”
“She will.” He scrapes at the desktop with his thumbnail. “I didn’t want to take a chance, so I brought it up with you first.” His voice goes low. “Actually, I promised her I wouldn’t bring it up at all.”
“So, you lied to my best friend.” My inner rage monster lets out a protective roar. “Let’s set aside my so-called ‘obsession’ with you for a moment.” I make little quotation marks with my fingers when I say ‘obsession.’ “You’ve been nothing but a mindless lust monkey for years. Why should I agree to let you near someone as sweet as Cissy?”
Zeke lets out a long sigh. “My family has power, money.” He leans back in his chair, rubbing his neck with his hand. “It makes me a target.”
My upper lip curls. Screw him and his fake problems. “Boo hoo.”
Zeke chuckles, but there isn’t any humor in his laugh. “And that’s what I’m talking about.” He shakes his head from side to side. “Cissy doesn’t see me as this privileged dickhead.” His shoulders slump. For the first time, I see him as a different person: a warrior, but not someone who battles with rage, like me. More like someone who fights with despair.
“You have to understand, Cissy sees someone else in me.” His caramel eyes find mine, and for the first time there’s something and real behind them. “I want to be that guy for her, Myla.” His jaw sets into a firm line. “Please give us a chance, that’s all I ask.”
My rage cools. I never thought of Zeke as acting the playboy to hide something else. But all those overly-expensive gifts and one-time hook-ups? The pattern’s kinda obvious, come to think of it.
Closing my eyes, I picture the first time I talked to Cissy. It was in first grade, and I was trying to avoid trouble on the playground. It didn’t work. Billy Summers was giving me crap for my ‘weird tail’ for the millionth time. I snapped, flattened him, and then everyone—teachers and kids alike—looked at me like a criminal-slash-freak. That’s when Cissy walked up to me and took my hand. She saw something different in me, too. My heart warms at the memory.
I inhale a slow breath. “I’ll give you a chance, Zeke. But so help me, if you hurt her…” My eyes flare red. “I’ll tear you apart with my bare hands.”
Zeke’s mouth winds into a relieved smile. “Thank you.” He slumps back in his chair, his blonde eyebrows arching. Within seconds, his Mister Smarmy act returns with a vengeance. “That’s big of you, kitten.” He shoots me with his pointer finger gun. “Really big.”
You have no idea.
Chapter Six
I stare at my lunch tray: some kind of mystery pasta (green mac and cheese, maybe?) and a diet coke. Man, do I wish I hadn’t forgotten to shove some Demon bars in my backpack today. Ah, Demon bars. Eight ounces of candy disguised as granola-based nutrition. Yum. Meanwhile, the school cafeteria’s idea of food is nothing less than terrifying.
Cissy slips into the empty chair across from me. Like always, it’s just the two of us at our favorite corner table. Her tawny eyes sparkle. “We need to talk.”
The room turns strangely quiet. I scan the nearby faces, noting how everyone’s actively avoiding looking in my direction. Dread and bile twist my stomach. My conversation with Cissy is today’s lunchtime theater, and no one wants to miss a word.
I poke at the greenish pasta with my fork. “Sure.”
“I wanted to talk about it over the weekend, but you didn’t pick up your phone.” Cissy sighs. “We were all a little surprised about the party.”
“We?” My back teeth lock with rage.
“You know Zeke, his friends, everyone at school who was at the party.” Cissy sips her can of diet soda. Then, she pauses. “It’s nothing to be embarrassed about.”
“I’m not embarrassed.” I force myself to drop my fork; I think I dug a hole through the plastic plate.
“Come on, Myla. I can see you’re still upset.” Cissy reaches across the table, wrapping her hand around my own. “Listen to me. Say the word and it’s over with Zeke. I mean it.” Tears bead in her tawny eyes; my anger slowly melts. “Your friendship means so much to me.”
Cissy’s been my best friend since first grade, and a true one. She taught me how to twist my hair into an envy-worthy braid; I showed her how to trip people with her tail. How could I not be happy for her? I open my mouth, trying to speak through the knot of emotion in my throat. I let out a few garbled words that sound like “Ree roo.”
Cissy frowns. “Um, what was that?”
I clear my throat. “Me too. Your friendship means a lot. I’m happy for you and Zeke.” Leaning back in my chair, I drum my fingers on the tabletop. “Look, there was another reason I lost it at the party.”