CHAPTER 42

“She’s better acquainted with his heart than I, or anyone besides; and she never would represent him as worse than he is.” — Ellen Dean.

Last night I told Julie that I couldn’t get my hands on someone hot and swoon worthy. Of course that was lie, but what else was there to say? Presently, I had stuffed in a whole egg sandwich which my sister had made for breakfast, after which I stuck my fingers inside my mouth, running my tongue over them, savoring the last bit of it.

My phone rang in my shirt pocket, and I snuck it outside, heart fluttering at the possibility that it might be him calling. Maybe he wanted to talk; may be apologize for real this time. My chest sank after seeing my swimming coach's number flash on the screen. So much for my wishful thinking.

“Yes, sir?”

“Tobias, you'll have to change the practice timing to what it was before. The two sophomores who were there with you have left the college.” Silence reigned over the conversation, because I was devastated at this news. Not that I cared of those two wankers leaving the college, but my primary concern was the swimming captain. I shouldn’t be give in to fits of passion and aggression in front of him. If I did, my self esteem and me were going to come down like the fucking titanic.

“Tobias?”

“Uh, yeah. I'm here.”

“Do you have any problems?” I sighed at being asked that question. Problems? Many. Could I defy you? No. So there was no meaning asking that if you didn’t mean shit. My fingers clutched the phone tightly in annoyance.

“No.” There was a defeated breath on the other side despite me agreeing on this. Guess it wasn’t so unclear that I wasn’t particularly happy with the new change of events. Displeasure slipped in through my voice when I said I didn’t have any problems.

“See you today, Tobias.” I hung up without returning the greeting whatsoever. Smacking my lips for consuming the remnant food particles that coated my lips, I slipped on a grey t-shirt over my navy blue jeans and headed over to college, after shoving the phone back in the breast pocket. College didn't start before another hour, but I could really do with smoking a cigarette or two.

—

Alexander's P. O. V :

Flexing my hips to the other side, I climbed down from my bed. Ugh, the condo sucked. I'd have preferred to stay in the mansion if only my parents hadn't butted in a threw some ‘ways of being humble’ at my fucking face. Running a hand through my unkempt hair, I peeled the t-shirt off my body, standing in front of the mirror to admire the way it looked. I had never been insecure about it. Why should I? You could ask my exes how much they loved it. By the word ‘ex’ my mind drifted off to Harris. The moments I spent with him. His eyes filled with tears after what I did to him, haunted my dreams. How could I be so cruel—he deserved better. Better than what I could offer.

“Alexander?” Someone called out in a cautious tone from behind, making me whirl around to face the speaker, despite my obvious irritation for being sneaked at upon this early in the morning. What was it? Nine fucking thirty? Who even woke up that fucking early?

“What do you want, Niall?” I asked nonchalantly, strutting towards the refrigerator in the right side of the room, barely paying him a glance in return. Could he leave this very fucking moment? When I returned from Knoxville, sudden impatience had taken hold of me. A part of me thought it was because it was all over with Harris, and that I could carry on my thing with Niall. But that wasn’t so. Desolation grabbed me as quickly as ever, making me ache for one glimpse of him. The crave for his snarky remarks, his disarming blue eyes staring in mine, for just one kiss was so intense that I could barely put my mind in anything else. I hadn’t even fucked someone since the last time he and I had sex. What kind of new shit was this?

“I wanted to talk.” I rolled my eyes at this answer, my fingers wrapping around the refrigerator handle, opening it with a sudden impact of strength, making the other person jump. The cool air hit my bare chest, making me shiver which was a pure contrast to the heat radiating by the sun.

“Then talk.”

I reached for a bottle of water, taking it out before closing the opened part of the fridge with my leg, turning around to face Renault. I leaned against the cool surface of the appliance, one leg pressing against the front door of the fridge, while the other was kept glued to the hardwood floor.

“We have been officially dating ever since Toby distanced himself from me.” He spread his arms out on the kitchen counter, trying to hijack my attention. It worked, and I winced at the words ‘officially dating’. Bullshit, fucking idiot. No matter how much I wanted to see your ex friend, I couldn’t. Because he had changed the swimming trial timings. And other than driving past his step sister's house which he stayed in (thanks to Cole for giving me that info), I had no other hope of catching one glimpse of him. My fingers worked on the bottle cap, twisting it in the opposite direction before opening it with a soft click. I kept the cap on the counter, urging him to continue.

“And since that, how many times have we had sex?” I was about to raise the bottle to my mouth, but the sudden bold question prevented me from doing so. Instead, I cocked my head to the side, raising my eyebrows.

“Your point is?”

 “It’s not like you have a low libido or something. It’s not like it doesn’t take 5 minutes to seduce you and take you to bed. It’s not like you don't want to shove your dick into everything that looks good and walks on two legs. It’s not like you don’t have a sex drive that drives you fucking crazy. It’s not like you didn’t go to bars to pick up people even before two months.” He glared at me, fierce brown eyes giving off sparks, as I put the bottle down, letting down a humorless laugh.

“And your point, sweetheart?”