Playing With Fire

CHAPTER XXIX (29)

CHAPTER XXIX
Solana

   "Is he still not responding?" Mera asked, yawning while on speakerphone. "He could be in the shower."

   I shook my head, not pulling my gaze away from the screen. "He's been in the shower the whole day?" Fear prickled my skin, but I didn't know why. "He hasn't texted me back since last night."

   "Maybe he's still pissed at Pres and Jon. You know, for accusing him about the brakes." I considered that theory earlier today, but I knew that couldn't be it. When I got back home that day, I'd updated him, and he seemed completely fine. Up until Wednesday.

   "Do... do you think I should drop by?" My voice wavered from my nerves as I bit my lower lip. I couldn't look away from the phone, which displayed three of my unread messages. "Maybe something happened again."

   Mera's only response was alarming silence. "You could," she started slowly before she mumbled, "But I can't come with you. I'm eating with my parents."

   "I'll be okay by myself," I quickly defended. "The bus stop near the restaurant takes me pretty close to his house." I wasn't embarrassed to admit I did my research.

   "Still... could you ask Lori?"

   I was already shaking my head before glancing at the closed door. "She would never go to a Tiger's house. Plus, she has the closing shift."

   Mera sighed, and I grudgingly swiped out from Christian's contact before bringing the phone to my ear. "How about Malik—"

   "Definitely not." Even though I was closer with him, his loyalties were to his team, and I could respect that.

   All I knew for certain was that I would stop by Christian's house. After Jon's accident on Tuesday, I assumed we were okay—we had been. But after trying to initiate conversation on Wednesday, I was surprised to receive two dry messages in response before I stopped entirely. I was planning on visiting yesterday, but my night class drained all my energy.

   Was I leaving Lafiene close to ten at night? Yes. But I'd been looking forward to my shift ending, just so I could confront him on his silence. I knew something happened, and I needed to talk to him on his coping strategies, because I've started to see a pattern that he typically avoids me when he's angry or upset.

   "I have a bad feeling, Lana." Recognizing how her voice started lowering with dread, I stiffened before glancing around the employee's lounge. I was sitting cross-legged on the bench, with no one in sight. "Just, if you're gonna go, keep me updated. And maybe let Jon know—"

   "He's not talking to me again," I deadpanned, feeling my cheeks burn in frustration and hurt. "He's mad that I'm mad. And he wasn't happy that I called him out on Tuesday, when 'he's supposed to be recovering.'"

   "Your brother," she cussed, and I imagined her clenching her jaw. "I can't wait until we finish fourth year. You'll finally have an excuse to leave him."

   True. I finished submitting all my applications to masters programs—all of which were not in the state of Georgia. I've built up my savings since high school, and considering I used to have two jobs before I got into third year, it carried a generous amount of money. Mom also offered to pay for my masters program, and even though I hate having to rely on her, it would ease the funds I needed to pay.

   "I'm going." My words were brimmed with confidence and promise as I shot up to my feet, shoulder bag in hand. "I'll keep you updated."

   She grumbled another curse before demanding, "Actually give me updates. You know I hate when you bus late."