Page 20 of Heavensent & Hellbent

Zain cleared his throat. I kept my gaze calm and steady on the machine to avoid bursting into laughter.

“I did say…” I started.

“No, we need a rematch,” he said quickly—and would say five more times. He lost every game. Each round, he grew more and more frustrated.

“You can’t just keep doing that move!” he ground out, hitting the machine each time he lost.

“Why can’t I?” I asked as I concentrated on doing exactly that move on repeat.

Once the games had ended, Zain leaned against the arcade cabinet, head pressed against the side of it dramatically, conceding his loss. “Okay, I wasn’t expecting that.” His biceps strained against his T-shirt in this stance, and my gleeful high at winning turned into something else. I found myself dry-mouthed. I redirected my attention to the few people who were still here. People weren’t looking over anymore, if they ever had been. I wasn’t sure if I was hyperaware of their gazes only because I was a newcomer in the city.

“I mean, Ididtell you.”

He straightened up then, opened his mouth like he was about to say something, but he was interrupted by a loud voice calling “Zain!” That was when a group of boys came over. They were all broad and tall like him, and the one who had called his name put his hands around Zain’s shoulders.

“I thought you were at work today, man?” a tan, dark-haired guy asked.

“I was,” Zain said to his friend while keeping his eyes on me.

“Are you going to the party tonight?” another, somehow even taller one asked.

Zain seemed like he was pondering something before he said, “No, probably not.”

The first guy laughed, rolling his eyes. “It’s the last summer before college—let your hair down.” He then proceeded to ruffle Zain’s perfect hair and was met with an unconvincing glare.

“We’re about to head out,” Zain said coolly, looking back to me, where I stood like a lamppost, saying and doing nothing. The eyes of four guys—five, including Zain—were then on me.

“Who’s this?” the first guy asked.

Something about his tone—including the fact that he didn’t address me directly—straightened my spine. I disliked the opposite sex at the best of times, often believing they ruined things with their loudness and lack of boundaries. There were a few exceptions to this, of course, like Ehsan and the guys in the books I read.

I simply stared at the boy who spoke at me like I was Zain’s pet, dead behind my eyes, until he got the message. He laughed nervously, scratching his neck. Nic once told me I had the ability to scare boys with a single glare, and it was the kindest thing she had ever said to me. I had been practicing.

“Sebastian…” Zain said in warning before turning to me. “Ignore him. He has no social skills.”

“Well, I’m going,” I said to Zain, grabbing my bags. I was wasting my time here—he’d never give me answers. As I walked away, I heard one of the boys say, “What’s her problem?” And while I couldn’t hear Zain’s response, whatever he said silenced them.

I pressed all my body weight against the door to leave, wondering if I’d been too hasty. I often acted before I thought.

Resting against the building wall for a moment, I realized I wasn’t entirely sure how to get home. Zain had led the way here, turning down various streets. I hadn’t paid attention, too focused on seeming chill in front of him to observe my own surroundings.

I put my bags on the ground to check Google Maps on my phone. There were messages from my dad.

Dad

Where are you?

If you don’t come home in the next 20minutes, you’re in big trouble

Roxana, I am serious.

I swiped away his messages, deciding to deal with him later.

The entrance door swung open and Zain appeared. He squinted into the distance, maybe to look for me. When he turned and noticed me, he let out a long breath.

“I thought you left,” he said.

“I was about to.”