A Hater's Gamble (BxB)

SIXTEEN

"Dancing through our house with the ghost of you."

                                   M I L E S

Last night, my tiredness had gotten the better of me at the club. I had blown a six-hundred dollar win all because I underestimated my opponents at the poker table. I knew my mother would be disappointed when she didn't find her hefty check on the kitchen table. All I could do this Tuesday morning, however, was get ready for the day ahead, and try to regain my money again tonight.

No, not try to win. I had to actually win. It wasn't much of a game if my entire life was at stake—my family's. Right now, my mother lived under the same roof as Maddie and I, which meant we were physically together, despite the emotional rift that still lingered. Nonetheless, I wanted to keep it that way, even if that meant overexerting myself at the club. Day in and day out.

The ringer of my phone startled me out of my thoughts. When I checked the caller identification, my stomach did a ridiculously embarrassing leap at the sight of Jake's name. I found myself smiling.

"Hey," I drawled.

I could hear Jake chuckle slightly over the phone, but something was off. He said, "Miles...we, ah, need to talk."

Suddenly the leap in my stomach felt more like a jolt. A jolt of angst. I cleared my throat and waited for him to proceed, it made my hands temor the slightest.

I heard Jake inhale a breath before he said, "Okay, I'm just going to say it. Miles, I like you."

The tremor in my hands halted. I didn't speak.

"But, I shouldn't have...kissed you," Jake went on. "I was acting on impulse, and honestly, it's not fair to you. Are you even...?"

"Even what?," my voice felt tight.

Telephone static.

Eventually, he sighed, "You know what I mean."

"Are you?," I replied, hesitantly.

Jake laughed, it wasn't such a pleasant sound this time. "Probably. If I'm being honest, I'm just figuring myself out. But you—," he paused, "you make me feel that way."

Never had I ever been told those words before. Never had I wanted to be told those words by anyone. But now, with Jake, I was rendered speechless.

I took a deep breath. "Jake, I'm certain that I like you too," I cleared my throat, " you're right, though, I'm figuring myself out."

It was the first time I allowed myself to admit that I genuinely liked a boy. In a non-platonic way. Everything felt different, I felt different.

Silence, then, "Miles, you know I like spending time with you. I just..."

"What?"

"We can't hang out anymore. At least, not for a while. It's just too much for me right now, okay?," he spoke more quietly.

My heart twisted. Now we couldn't be friends? All because he kissed me?

The painting he gave me. The way he smiled at me. The way he laughed. All gone. I swallowed and willed the tightness in my throat to disappear.

"Okay," I said, carefully. "I have to go get dressed. Be safe, Jake."

Without waiting for him to answer, I ended the call. There was a pounding in my head, and all I wanted to do was escape back into my bedsheets; but with dread, I knew today would be long.

                               ••••••••••••••••••••••

The afternoon felt like it could've dragged on for an entire century. I watched the clock closely as it ticked the seconds away, waiting for Liam. As I sat at the small wooden desk in Mr. Wick's empty classroom, flashes of the conversation I had with Jake today kept resurfacing in my mind.

It shouldn't have made me this upset, but it did. It felt like I had been—broken up with. What left a sour taste in my mouth was that there was nothing to be broken up with in the first place. We were never exclusive, only friends. I was frustrated and confused, and most of all, I didn't have a distraction from Carl's hunt any longer.

I felt the weighing sense of paranoia creep up on me with fuller force, making my palms sweat.

"Medley," Liam announced, plopping down in the seat next to me.

Just the person who'll make my day so much brighter.

"Late, again," I remarked, flipping through the pages of my physics book.

"Yes, tutor, that's what happens when Daisy's allure is much too hard to resist," he gave a wolf's smirk. "Not that you would know anything about that."

I scrunched up my nose in disgust and was prepared to offer him a nasty comeback, but the words fell dead in my mouth. After Jake's phone call this morning, nothing felt right, meaning I didn't want to entertain Liam's boastful front today.

"Okay," I found myself saying quietly. "Go to page 65, Mr. Wicks said—."

Liam forcefully shut my book closed. All I could do was stare at the book in silence to restrain myself from acting out, which may have included crying or yelling, or both.

I reopened the book back to page 65, but he forced it  shut again. I put my head in my hands. "Liam, please." It was a plea, a genuine one.

"No, I did what you asked, did I not?," he asked, his voice even. "I got the guys off your back."

I heaved a sigh, my head still in my hands. "Yes."

"Then what's with the silent defeat thing you've got going on? It's fucking annoying," he stated.

I stayed silent, then when I was ready to talk, "On page 65, Mr. wicks said that—."

"This is about that Eagle, isn't it? Jake Griggs," Liam cut in, his voice turning icy.

I flinched at the name.

"Liam, drop it," I pleaded, fully turning to him in my seat.

"No."

"Why do you care so much?"

"I don't," he said, bored. "I just don't like him."

"And you like me so much more?"

He laughed bitterly, "That's not it either, I just like my tutor to be a little bit more enthusiastic is all."

I looked at him incredulously, "Enthusiastic? How the fuck to do you expect me to be enthusiastic when a gang is hunting us down? Not to mention, that I'm stuck here with you."

"Aw, is the poor baby a little sad? Is he scared?," Liam fake cooed as he reached out his hands to grab my face.

I swatted him away. "Shut up. Why are you in a good mood today anyways?"

He halted his mock attack on me and his face sobered. Serious. "It's because I get to see you today."

Silence.

Then the sound of both our laughter filled the room. Never would I have guessed that I would be laughing along with my biggest rival, Liam Coleman. I liked to look at it as more of an act of hysteria, not genuine fun.

"I hate you," I said when I recovered from my laughter, feeling glum again. "You're a psycho."

"I'm not your biggest fan either, you're a traitor."

There it was. I hated when he called me that.

"Okay."

"Page 57," he said, looking away from me and flipping through the pages.

"65," I corrected.