Broken and Screwed 2 (BS #2)

The decision was made.

Cord’s bag landed on the seat with mine and he took the closest seat. Our bags were between us, but he leaned over and asked in a quiet voice, “Why you got a stick up your ass? I thought after Sunday night, you’d be happy to see us.”

I glared at him.

His friend snickered. “That’s what I thought.”

Cord ignored him and asked me, “You embarrassed to be seen with me, Little Connors?”

“Stop calling me that,” I hissed. I was fully aware of the attention we were receiving. All three girls were salivating as they eavesdropped over our conversation. Not that they needed to strain to hear. Cord wasn’t quieting his voice. “And stop insinuating we slept together.”

“Hmmm.” Cord’s dimples appeared again. Oh yes, he was enjoying himself.

“I mean it. It’s like we don’t know each other, okay?” I wanted to smack my forehead. I had just made it worse. Judging by the smug looks, the girls were certain we had done the deed. The one who wanted Cord was eyeing me now, measuring me up and down.

I glared at her. “Eyes up front.”

Her mouth gasped open, but she turned quickly in her seat. The third friend’s shoulders were shaking in silent laughter.

“Were you left unsatisfied Sunday night?” Cord mused. Lounging back, he rested his arm across the back of the seat between us. “Are you mad at me?”

“Yes, Cord. You left me unsatisfied Sunday night. May the decree be announced that you didn’t measure up.”

His eyebrows furrowed together. “Well, I wouldn’t put it that way.”

“Nope. We should air this out, you know, so other girls have been warned ahead of time. My time with my lover was cut short. A guest arrived, prematurely, if you’re getting my drift. Its arrival came early.”

His eyebrows shot high and his arm dropped from the table, but then he caught himself and chuckled. Shaking his head at me, he put his arm back on the seat. He looked ready with a retort when his friend checked into the conversation. “Dude, you were in jail Sunday night. When’d you hook up with her?”

“He didn’t,” I snapped at him. “That’s my whole point.”

The friend glared back. “Sounds like you need to get laid to me. You’re a bitch.”

“Jamie.” Cord gave him a pointed look. “You don’t know who she is.”

“Yeah, but—”

“You don’t know who she is. Watch your tone.”

He reared back. “Are you kidding me? She’s just some—”

“No, she’s not,” Cord cut him off again. “I was just giving her a hard time. Relax.”

“She was being a bitch to you. Just saying, that’s not cool.” His friend leaned back in his chair with a slight glower. He grumbled, “Since when do you let chicks talk to you like that?”

“I was baiting her on purpose. She lashed back. It’s my fault.”

Hearing this, I sat back and had to reanalyze Cord again. This was the same Cord from Sunday, when he’d been nice and helped me move in. This wasn’t the old Cord from when he had thrown aside Marissa after their first hook up. What brought this change to him? But I kept quiet. I had no intention of asking. It was interesting to see the change.

Cord dropped his arm and leaned close. This time he lowered his voice so the girls couldn’t overhear him, “You pissed that Jesse hasn’t called? He’s got stuff going on right now. I don’t know if he told you that.”

I shrugged. “I don’t care.”

Yes, you do. What was going on with him?

Ignoring that nagging voice in my head, I scowled at him. “Just do me a favor. Pretend we don’t know each other. I don’t want the extra attention, you know?”

His eyes narrowed.

I stiffened, feeling the weight of his measuring gaze, but then he nodded. “Sure.” A ball of tension loosened in my gut and I lounged back in my chair again. The professor had started roll call. Cord was true to his word. He dropped the teasing, everything, and it was as if we never knew each other. The only time he violated this was at the end of class when the professor told us that we would need to form a group of three or four.

Cord latched onto my desk. “Partner up, Connors.”

I glared. What was he doing?

His friend had the same sentiment. He glowered at me around him, but didn’t argue.

The three girls had turned around, hoping to become a part of their group, but they stopped when he did that. I realized why he’d done that and rolled my eyes at him. He shrugged, but gave the professor our names when the groups were recorded. It was then announced we’d be working with the same group throughout the semester on different projects. The first project was for introductions. Screw that.

Class was dismissed and everyone stood to give phone numbers and email addresses out. Not me. I grabbed my bag and darted past Cord and Douchebag for the door. I heard DB grumble behind me, “Dude, are you mental? That girl is crazy.”