The Line Drive

six

Dane

I let Amy drag me outside, her sharp fingernails digging into my arm. I wonder if I should tell her that her claws need to be cut. Deciding that might be slightly too mean, I bite my tongue.

"Who the fuck is that?" Amy turns on me as soon as we've exited the building.

"My future tutor." I say, feeling the need to leave Mackenzie's name out of it in case Amy wants to start spreading rumors. If Amy had half a brain, she could figure out who Mackenzie was pretty easily, but Amy has never been particularly bright when it comes to that sort of thing. 

"Dane, I didn't think I could be clearer." Amy's voice is bitchy, and I honestly just want to cover my ears. I don't need a scolding. I wish Amy wasn't so hot, it would make it easier to have this conversation. Instead, I'm having a hard time pulling my eyes from her tits. "You--"

"Amy. We are not dating." I cut her off, because I'm fucking tired of this all of the sudden. I picture her in bed with Grant, and suddenly its easy to rip my eyes from her tits. "I broke up with you last week."

"No." Amy says.

"No?" What the fuck is wrong with this girl?

"No. We're not breaking up. I didn't agree to that."

"Well, that's the thing about breaking up. Usually only one person wants to do it." I feel like I'm explaining breaking up to a child throwing a temper tantrum.

"You and me. We're perfect, Dane." Amy steps closer to me and tries to kiss me. I step back. 

"No, we're not. You fucked Grant. We're done."

"Dane--" Amy whines. "It was one time."

"Really? Because Grant says it was so many times that he lost count." I level a glare at Amy. "I only caught you one time. Maybe that's what you mean." Most girls would back down at this point, but I'm convinced that Amy was dropped on her head as a baby, because she doesn't.

"I'm hot as fuck, Dane. You barely deserve me. But I want you."

"What the fuck is this manipulative bullshit?" I ask. "I. Broke. Up. With. You." I annunciate each word carefully. "We're over. I'd be happy if I never saw you again."

"God, you're a fucking fag you know that?" I've never been tempted to hit a woman before, but Amy is making me toe that line. 

"You're a bitch, Amy." I stoop to her level, even though I know I shouldn't. "Get your claws out of my fucking life. You don't get to have opinions on what I do anymore." 

With that I walk away, leaving her standing stony faced. I feel a sick sense of pride that I managed to get the last word in. 

A piece of me wants to circle back to the newspaper office so that I can give convincing Mackenzie another try, but I figure I've pushed my luck enough for the day. I did bribe her with pizza and a charming smile, I'm not sure what else I can do. Texting her now would come off too desperate, so I decide that I'll wait until I'm actually home.

When I make it home, everyone else is there but me. Six of us managed to cram ourselves in this house, and it manages to feel fairly crowded. My bedroom is on the second floor, and is technically the master suite. The term master suite feels generous, because it basically just means that it has an attached bathroom and the bathroom is small, and awkward. 

Grant is the only one in the kitchen, and I shoot him a glare as I walk past. "What did I do?" Grant asks.

"Fucked Amy." I tell him, not even breaking my stride.

"I said I was sorry, man." Grant calls after me as I take the stairs two at a time.

I slam the door behind me, not bothering to answer him. I wish that we had practice today, because I could use the release of pitching right now. 

I don't know how you resisted my mediocre pizza bribe... I text Mackenzie.

I want her to text back immediately, but she doesn't, so I'm left laying on my bed, wishing my hot ex-girlfriend hadn't fucked my roommate, and that I didn't find the editor-in-chief of our school's newspaper extremely cute.