Page 169 of Revenge Puck

“But?” I whisper.

“But, it’s possible he actually thinks you’re cool. But anger pushed him to do things he wouldn’t normally do,” Garrett admits. “You’re Declan’s sister. Dating you might feel like a direct hit.”

A direct hit.

My pulse roars in my ears.

“A direct hit?” I sound like a moron, constantly repeating myself, constantly needing clarification. Brain cannot compute.

“I don’t mean it likethat.” He’s talking too fast now. “I mean—Declan implied it was deliberate. And then, you know…”

He makes an explosion gesture with his hands.

Boom.

Bad to worse.

“Sorry. I’m sorry.” He rushes to apologize, stepping back when my face falls. “You need to talk to him. Not me. I’m clearly not helping.”

No.

He’s not helping.

Still, the damage has been done.

My phone vibrates on the desk, and I don’t know if I’m brave enough to look at it.

Aaron?

For the first time since he and I started talking, I’m not excited to see his name.

I’m terrified.

“Are you going to be alright?” Garrett says. “I should probably, you know…get going. Practice starts soon.”

Right.

Practice.

How lovely to go about one’s day with your life intact.

I swallow, forcing a nod. “Yeah. I’ll be good.”

Lie.

Lie, lie, lie.

Garrett lingers a few seconds longer, like he wants to say more. Like he might apologize for detonating a bomb in the middle of my cubicle.

He doesn’t.

He stuffs his hands in the pocket of his athletic pants, reticently backing out of my cubicle. “Don’t let this bother you, ’kay?”

Too late, Garrett! I’m bothered.

I am so far beyond bothered I feel physically ill.

My stomach churns, acid creeping up the back of my throat. My ears ring. The fluorescent lights suddenly feel too bright, like they’re buzzing directly against my skull.