Chapter 8: 08 - I’ll take my heart attack cold and loud, thank you
He didn’t show up the following day. Or the day after. I wasn’t entirely sure where etiquette stood on
stalkers but since we didn’t exchange phone numbers, I couldn’t exactly call to find out why. To be
honest, it was a good thing for him because I went to my tutoring job and while I didn’t know his specific
tastes, I was willing to bet he wouldn’t be a fan of standing in the sun for ny minutes since I wasn’t
going to take him into the house with me. Not in a million years, not ever. News that I brought an
unknown boy to the Davidsons’ home could very easily reach my parents since they were part of my
parents’ close knit circle. He didn’t know it but he chose to perfect days to not show up. Or maybe he
did and that was the point. I couldn’t know for sure. Unfortunately, the one thing I was sure of was that
his absence wasn’t a sign he had given up. I definitely hoped to God it was but I wasn’t big on lying to
myself. I needed my facts straight in any given situation. It was one of the lessons my mom had
drummed into my head growing up. He was probably just upied with more pressing matters. As a
criminal and heaven knew what else, there was no way he was short on those.
Despite that theory, I couldn’t help looking over my shoulder every time I stepped out. I couldn’t shake
the feeling I was being watched and it only got worse as the day progressed. I was beyond relieved as I
stepped into my house, safe from the malicious gaze that had followed me around. If it turned out to be
Masked Idiot, he was going to get it from me. I had been jumpy all day. Me, cool, calm and collected
Avy.
Unfortunately, I got held up finalizing ns for the debate and working out the kinks for an interschool
quiz. Anotherst hurrah before graduation. The quiz was between my school and our long-time rival,
Westler High. For some reason, both schools had been rivals since the beginning of time.
Unfortunately for Westler, since my sophomore year when I started representing my school, we’ve
continuously been beating them. The quiz was ast ditch attempt to salvage their dignity following the
three-year thrashing they had received. Not that it would amount to anything more than another
thrashing since as I wasn’t going to lose.
My mother was less than pleased with myteness. It had been tense between us since the fighting
arena turnedte dinner escapade and with the whole listicle elope-with-your-boyfriend thing but since I
had a rock solid reason, she settled for a scowl as opposed to pulling out a trick from her patented
Bring Your Child To Tears handbook.
A tense atmosphere descended during dinner and I focused on not making any blunders. It was the
kind of silence that told you loud and clear that the other person was looking for any excuse to pick a
fight. I was determined not to give her one. Luckily, Olly stepped into the diffuse the tension with a
recount of her ser match. I wisely kept my opinions to myself, remaining silent till the end of the
affair. I definitely wasn’t going to give my mom a bone to pick. I even politely offered to take care of the
tes although it wasn’t my day.
With a sigh of relief at having avoided a confrontation, I trudged upstairs with my mother trailing behind
me. We parted ways at the head of the stairs.
“Good night, Mom.” I smiled.
“Good night.” She waved me away with a dismissive flick of her wrist. Avy, one. Mom, zero.
I shut my room door behind me and fell back, propping myself against it.
“Okay. I’m good,” I muttered softly, releasing my breath on a sigh before straightening up and reaching
for the light switch. “That wasn’t so bad. I just have to be on time for the rest of the week. I can do that.”
I flicked the switch, flooding the room with light. I automatically squinted, waiting for my eyes to adjust
to the--
“Ahhhh!” A terrified scream burst out of my mouth as I violently jumped back.
There wasn’t much jumping room behind me so I ended up smacking my elbow against the door.
“Ouch! Shit!” I cussed quietly, rubbing my elbow.
My eyes, however, remained fastened on the figure lounging on my bed.
“What is it?” Mom called out in a voice tinged with just the littlest bit of apprehension and irritation.
My eyes widened in horror as my brain nked out for a full second. Oh sweet baby Jesus.
The absolutest thing I needed right now was for her toe investigate. I had a boy in my room. On
my bed. That wasn’t going to go down well. Thankfully, my brain kicked back in with a lie.
“Nothing! Cockroach!” I yelled back, fervently praying she missed the quiver in my voice. “Flying
cockroach,” I embellished. Please don’te here. Please don’te here. Please don’t.
I strained my ears for any indication that she wasing to confirm for herself. All I heard was a hiss
followed by, “Grow up, Avyanna. Jesus Christ, it’s just a roach. Act your age, will you!”
The contents of my stomach plummeted in despair.
“Sorry, Mom,” I called out. “Good night!”
The greeting went unanswered for obvious reasons. She wasn’t pleased with me at the moment. At
least she wasn’ting to check things out for herself.
Despair quickly turned to anger as my gaze once again found the boy lounging casually on my bed.
“I. Will. Kill. You.”
“That threat’s pretty old. Uninspired. Lazy. Recycled. You can do better. Spice it up,” he said,zily
brushing lint off his clothes. And onto my bed. Did he just imply I was an uncreative giarizer?
I arched an eyebrow, staring pointedly at the movement of his hand.
“I’ll crush you in a trashpactor and make soup out of your remains,” I adjusted. “Better?”
“Much.” He sneered, lips curling back to reveal a smile with too much teeth to be anything but
threatening. “And what is with you and making soup out of things?”
“What the fuck are you doing here thiste?” I bit back. “Besides trying to give me a heart attack.”
“Heart attack?” He rolled his eyes. “Being a little dramatic, aren’t we? Besides,st I checked, heart
attacks involved less screaming and more... quiet dying.”
“Really, doc? I had no idea. Thank you for the lesson.”
“Is that sarcasm I hear?” His lips tugged into a wry grin. Like he couldn’t help himself. “Let’s not forget
who the scary big bad is here, shall we? You might want to be a bit more polite.”
“Scary big bad?” I arched a brow. “And I’m supposedly the uncreative one who recycles outdated
phrases.”
Even my grandma wouldn’t say something as dated as ‘scary big bad.’
He scowled.
I rolled my eyes dismissively and flew into action. In three seconds, I was by the bed, pping his feet
off, then the rest of him.
“Let’s not make a habit of this,” I warned, staring pointedly at the bed.
“What would ‘this’ be exactly?” He fixed his shirt and straightened to his full height. “The heart attack bit
orying on your bed?”
“Both,” I snapped. “Now get to work.” I inclined my head in the direction of the bed.
“What?” he asked, wide eyed with confusion.
“Fix it,” I expanded.
“You’re joking,” was his less than brillianteback.
“Not even a little.”
He arched one incredulous brow. I stared back tly.
“You can’t be serious.” He scoffed.
I steadily met his gaze.
The first time he was in my room, he did the exact same thing and I had to fix my bed afterwards. I
wasn’t doing that again. He made the mess, he should to clean it up. I didn’t even like the idea of him
sitting on my bed, much less lying on it. Thest thing I was going to do was encourage his behaviour
by cleaning up after him. Besides, our stalking agreement clearly needed ground rules. The first of
which would be no snitching and no sneaking up on me. The bed rule coulde in second.
“Come on,” he sputtered. “You can’t be serious.”
I arched an eyebrow, maintaining my unyielding position. I was Avyanna Johnson. I wasn’t going to
lose a stare-off.
“No,” he dered, eyeing me as though I had lost my mind.
“No,” he repeated, though it seemed like it was more to convince himself than me this time.
I, for one, didn’t see what was so abnormal about having the person who scattered something fix it. In
fact, as far as I knew, that was how the world worked.
“It was perfect before you came in andid on it. It’s only fair that you fix it,” I countered.
“Wh... wha... no. No. No, I...” he sputtered, shaking his head in denial.
“No, I’ll get right on that?” I supplied, a sharine smile on my face.
“No, I won’t,” he refuted vehemently. “I’m... I’m not doing that. I’m...”
I arched one perfect eyebrow, tilting my head to the side as I waited for something remotely intelligent
toe out of his mouth.
“I’m the bad guy here.”
I couldn’t not roll my eyes. He couldn’t havee up with a dumber response if he tried.
“Really? I thought you were the tooth fairy. She breaks into people’s rooms and usually heads straight
for their beds too, you know?” My voice wasden with enough sarcasm to drown a small vige.
“I’m... a criminal.” He stumbled over thest word, like it was hard for him tobel himself as one which
was mind boggling given all that he had done so far. Between the illegal fight club, stalking an innocent
girl and breaking and entering, he was racking up quite the rap sheet.
He wore an expression that made it clear he thought ‘I’m a criminal’ was reason enough to not fix my
bed. Unfortunately for him, I didn’t see what one thing had to do with the other.
“I don’t need the reminder. Trust me, I couldn’t forget that even if I tried. Now, get toying the bed.” I
nodded at the bed, an unyielding look on my face.
“What kind of girl are you?” he hissed, exasperation coloring his tone.
“The kind whose bed you’re about to fix.”
He scoffed. I stared him down.
“Fine,” he huffed, finally understanding that I wasn’t going to budge.
After making sure he was doing exactly what I wanted, I turned away.
“I’m going to take a bath. Feel free to not be here when I get back.”
He shed me an acidic smile, radiating total displeasure. With my back to him, I smothered a reluctant
smile. He wasn’t so bad.
“You’re still here,” I needlessly announced on returning to the room.
To be honest, I hadn’t expected him to leave. If he decided to show up today despite knowing howte
it was, then there was no way he’d leave so quickly. It was why I had taken my PJs with me and
dressed up in the bathroom.
“Where you watching me from afar today?” I asked as casually as I could, taking seat at my dresser.
My eyestched on his image in mirror, watching him like a hawk for any slip-ups. “That wasn’t part of
our agreement.”
“I wasn’t.” His denial was simple, straightforward, sure.
I nced over my shoulder so he could properly see my exaggerated eye roll before going back to my
night-time hair routine. “Oh please, I felt stalked. It had to be you.”
“Well, it wasn’t,” he staunchly refuted. “What are you doing anyway?” he asked, curiously eyeing me.
He didn’t seem to be lying but if it wasn’t him, who else could possibly be stalking me? I shuddered to
think I had unwittingly picked up another stalker.
“Night-time hair routine.”
“Meaning?”
I exasperatedly rolled my eyes even though he couldn’t see it.
“ck hair isn’t like white hair. African-Americans have to take care of their hair carefully or it’ll go wild
on us. Also, ck hair doesn’t grow as long as white does. Ours needs the encouragement. And
thanks to the curliness, we can’t be careless with their hair down. It tangles horribly. Apart from a lucky
few obviously.”
“Ohhh.” He nodded slowly in a way that made it clear he didn’t understand it at all.
Cue another of my infamous eye rolls.
“What next?” he inquired, curiosity coating his expression.
I heaved a sigh, debating whether or not to answer. It couldn’t hurt.
“I’ve just finished spritzing it with a water based hair strengthener thatbats breakage and split
ends. Now, I’m going to apply some oil on it to lock it in,” I expanded, shaking said bottle of oil in air.
What I didn’t mention was that I was also sampling the product for a review I had to write for the
magazine. He wasn’t a girl. Chances he’d be interested in that nugget were slim to none.
“Weird,” he concluded, proving my point.
Cue yet another eye roll from yours truly.
I hurriedly finished with my hair and booted up myptop. The game soon took over the screen.
“I don’t get you.” He frowned, hovering over my shoulder, eyes trained on theptop screen as I began
battling a game character.
“I’m aplex being and your understanding is decidedly below average. It is to be expected,” I replied
offhandedly, my gaze never flickering from the screen.
My fingers flew steadily across the keyboard, pressing the keys as fast as most experienced pro-
gamers. I had my mom to thank for that. She inadvertently helped me get a high w.p.m. by having me
type some of her office documents when I was much younger. She’d die if she found out this was how I
was using the skill.
“You’re the most...” He clenched his jaw in anger, swallowing the rest of his statement between teeth
clenched so tight it couldn’t not have hurt.
“If it makes you feel better,” I graciously threw him a bone, “you’re also a contradiction.”
I could feel his gaze on my neck.
“You’re stupid but not totally senseless. Slow but not dumb. A criminal but not a brute,” I borated and
shrugged, taking my gaze off the screen for a moment to nce at him.
“Excuse me?”
I rolled my eyes and returned my attention to the game.
“You have rtively okay manners for a hardened criminal,” I added.
“I’m not a hardened criminal,” he refuted.
“Fine,” I shook my head, “you have okay manners for a regr criminal.”
“I’m not...”
“A criminal?” I cut him off. “Because that ship has sailed, bud. Need I remind you that not only are you
stalking me which is a crime, you broke into my house, another crime. You also have a job that is
illegal. If I can even call it a job. Basically, you’re a poster child for criminal.”
He scowled.
“I thought you said you didn’t need to be reminded of it,” he muttered petntly.
“You brought it up.” I shrugged, driving my opponent in the game to the ground with one of my patented
attackbos.
“Anyway” I carried on, “as I was saying, you seem almost normal if I overlook the unprecedented levels
of idiocy but you indulge in a predominantly male hormone-driven inclination to exert dominance
through violence more than most normal people.”
“That was bothpliment and insult rolled into one.” His tone made it clear he was stumped.
“Walking contradiction,” I summed, as my opponent copsed on the screen and then disappeared
leaving behind a hovering box. “Once you overlook the idiocy,” I added, unable to let the opportunity to
take shot at him slide.
I clicked on the box, smiling brightly at the content before I logged out and shutdown theptop.
“I’m sure there was apliment in there. Somewhere.” He frowned.
“Whatever makes you feel better.” I smiled, meeting his gaze.
He perched on the edge of the table as soon as I put myptop away. I eyed him up contemtively. I
hadid enough groundwork. It was time to do some proper fishing.
“You’re a rich kid, aren’t you? Old money rich,” I asked in an uninterested tone, like I was only asking
for the sake of making conversation. I had been nning this since he left after the panty incident but it
wasn’t going to work if I came off as too eager.
“Why do you think so?” he countered immediately, a suspicious light entering his eyes.
So he wasn’t as stupid as I assumed but no matter how good he was, I was better. I didn’t ask the
question out of the blue. There were indications that led to it and whether or not he wanted it, I was
going to get the confirmation I needed.
“Because it shows.”
“How?” His frown deepened. Ah ha!
He was a rich kid. If he wasn’t, he would haveughed in my face or said something with a simr
implication.
“You have good manners. I’ve been less than... polite to you on multiple asions and you haven’t
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once raised your voice or even tried to hit me which honestly, would’ve surprised me less given what
you do for a living.” I gave a half shrug and let my gaze stray to his fists.
He scowled.
“You haven’t though,” I continued. “Not because you don’t want to. I know you do because sometimes
you start to reply, to say something insulting only to stop before you actually follow through. That tells
me that someone taught you to have impable manners. Only old money does that.”
My eyes narrowed, watching him like a hawk.
I could tell I was right. He was a rich kid. It certainly narrowed my search but... what the hell was a rich
kid doing at a grimy illegal fight club?
“I could just be a decent human being.”
“A decent being who is also criminal, that’s original,” I mocked. “Let me guess, you also didn’tmit
any of those crimes. Or wait, you did it but you’re a criminal with a heart of gold. You did it because you
didn’t have any other choice.”
“You think you’re so smart, don’t you? And funny too?” He sneered.
“I do. To both. I also quite enjoy having thest word,” I answered candidly. “Anyway, what really gave
you away is that Patek. It’s an old one. My guess is, family heirloom. Last time, it was a Swiss. Before
that, it was a Rolex. No matter how much your... ‘business’ pays, it’s not enough to afford this.” I tapped
the wristwatch as I got to my feet.
He scowled. I took it to mean I was spot on.
“Now, I just have one question.” I turned to face him, meeting his gaze squarely. “Why is a rich kid
involved with an underground fighting circuit? As a fighter?”
He averted his gaze, looking everywhere but at me.
Well, well, well, look who’s hiding something.