Page 32 of He Hate Me

“I know.” There's a brief pause.

"What was the deal with that guy? I know he's not your boyfriend, or Brandon would have told me, but you guys looked pretty cozy when I got to the party."

“Not gon’ lie, we were kinda talking.” I hear the sigh through the phone.

“I thought we were talking,” Mello says.

“We were,” I admit.

“But you’re going to keep talking to him?”

“No,” I insist. “I’m definitely not talking to him anymore.” I consider for a moment whether to tell him about Gio asking Shelby to Homecoming, but it might sound like that's the reason I stopped talking to Gio.

“Cause he got all jealous?”

“Nah,” I say. “Maybe. He was acting the fool on Saturday. That’s a whole mess I don’t need.”

“I want to be happy about that, Deja,” Mello says, “but I don’t really like that you were talking to another guy and didn’t tell me.”

“Why would you think I wasn’t?” I shot back. “We haven’t even known each other for two weeks. Shit, you haven’t even asked me on a date.”

He doesn’t answer for a minute, but what he says next isn’t totally surprising to me.

“I been talking to this girl from my old school too,” he admits, his voice filled with embarrassment. I could get mad about this, but like I said, we've never been on a date. TBH we barely know each other. At least he doesn't act holier than thou and pretend I was the only one keeping my options open.

“Do you like her?”

“I like both of you,” he says. “You’re really different from each other⁠—“

“Don’t tell me any details.” To control the urge to bite my nails, I grab a marker and start doodling on a piece of paper. A densely petalled flower starts taking shape. “If you’re trying to decide who you want to date, don’t wait for me, okay? I’m not even sure I want a boyfriend. I have cheer, games most Friday nights, we’re going to start preparing for competition pretty soon, and I’m taking two AP classes. It’s just a lot. And I know Brandon is your friend, but he won’t stop giving me a hard time.”

“Yeah, he can be kind of a lot sometimes.”

“Right!”

“But he’s a good guy, you know.”

“I’ll have to take your word for it. Also…I’m going to Homecoming with my ex. It’s not a real date or anything. We’re just friends. I just want you to know that I wasn’t blowing smoke up your ass just now.”

I wish I could see his face, to gauge his reaction. He’s not saying anything back. I don’t want him to think badly of me. I’m pretty sure I’m not going to date him, but he’s a good guy. I genuinely don’t want to hurt his feelings.

“I’ve gotta go,” he says. “I have to turn in my homework before I go to bed.” I assume he has to either email it or upload it to Blackboard.

“Okay. Talk to you soon.”

“Talk to you soon.”

I disconnect the call and lean back in my task chair, sliding my knees back and forth so the chair turns in a tight half circle and then back. What a day.

I pull my chair up to the desk and open my AP Physics textbook. I mark the end of the chapter with a flag, pull out my notebook and pen, and start reading. Time to put the drama aside and get on with what I’ve got to do. It’s less than an hour before bedtime, so I’d better focus and get this shit done.

Twelve

Brandon

The car drops me off in front of a nondescript office building. At this point in the afternoon, the streets are almost deserted, office workers back inside the cloistered warmth of their cubicles. I use my keycard to access the elevator controls and press the button for the top floor. The guard behind the security desk gives me a curious look as the door closes. My guess is that not a lot of people who look like me visit this building, and when they do, it’s never with the kind of pass I have.

The elevator opens on a glass reception desk staffed by a nice looking blonde close to my age. She’s beautiful, with an athletic body and full pink lips, but she’s also icy. Working for Anton, God only knows what that coldness means. She could have a dozen kills under her belt for all I know.