Page 414 of Ruthless Court
“He didn’t need to.”
“Yes, he did.”
She stares.
I tighten my grip on the laundry.
“Because whatever competition you think exists is happening entirely inside your head.”
“What does he see in you?”
I could answer.
Basketball.
Books.
Arguments.
Twizzlers.
My terrible pajamas.
The fact that he once kissed my forehead after I panicked and thought that mattered more than anything else we’d done.
Instead, I say the only thing that matters.
“You should ask him.”
“I’m asking you.”
“And I’m not auditioning.”
Her eyes narrow.
I step around her.
She catches my arm.
Not hard.
Enough.
I stop.
Look down.
Then at her.
“Let go.”
Something in my face must convince her.
Her hand drops.
“Don’t touch me again.”
Krista looks away.
