Page 10 of Blitz

Amir and Miles are intrigued. Wes lowers his book.

Sam’s hand moves from my forearm to my hand, where I’m clutching my fork so tightly my knuckles have turned white. Mechanically, she pries my fingers off the utensil.

“Just hear her out,” she says quietly.

“I don’t want to.”

“We all have to do things we don’t want to sometimes, Tuck,” Sam says. She folds her fingers around mine. “We’re here for you. I’m here for you. I love you.”

Dread swells in my gut. I don’t want to do this. We’re done. It’s over. I want nothing to do with her.

But I’ve never been able to say no to her.

Shoving back my chair, I turn and face Mason. Her full lips are pinched down in a frown. Her gorgeous eyes are red, bloodshot.

“Not here.”

She nods. I grab my coat off the back of my chair and stalk out of the dining hall. The lobby is too crowded. I lead her outside, where the January wind is punishingly cold.

Good. I need to feel something. Anything other than apathy.

“King...”

I cross my arms over my chest. “Don’t call me that.”

She sighs. “Tucker...”

“I’m not hearing a lot of talking. You wanted to talk. So talk.”

I’m being abrasive, a total asshole. I can’t make myself care. She destroyed everything good about my life.

Mason swallows, her eyes bright. “You came to my track meet today.”

“I go to events on campus.”

That’s a lie. I don’t do anything that isn’t officially mandatory. I don’t go to parties. I don’t go to basketball games. I stay at home with my roommates and play video games and masturbate to the memory of her.

Her face falls. “I thought you showing up meant... I don’t know, maybe I’m reading too much into it.”

“You are.”

“But you came.”

“I didn’t do it for you.”

Lies. Lies. Lies. I’d do anything for her, including sacrificing my own happiness to make her smile. Just for a moment. That’s all I want.

She clears her throat. “Your girlfriend is pretty.”

“I don’t have a girlfriend.” I work hard to keep all emotion out of my voice. I’ve never wanted a girlfriend. I just wanted her.

Her eyebrows go up. “The white girl that was all over you two minutes ago.”

“That’s Sam.”

“And you’re not...?”

I laugh. It’s cold and bitter, much like the remnants of my heart after she stomped all over it. “She’s dating my roommate.”