Dating Mr. Arrogant

chapter 24 - i won't make it easy for you

ACE

JUSTIN: When you coming back?

ME: Monday night

I get up from the cream-colored L-shaped sectional, pressing send on the text message. My eyes drift to the corner of the couch, where Giselle's reversible angry octopus plush lies abandoned. Its down-turned mouth and eyes instantly remind me of Elle when she discovered I overheard her conversation with Scarlett. She's been giving me the cold shoulder for the past couple of days, disappearing like a ghost again whenever I see her at school.

Leaving the living room, I pad down the hall towards the grand staircase, its smooth stone surface gleaming under the chandelier high above. The sound of the front door shutting echoes and I catch Elle hurrying up the stairs, her hair swaying with each step. I swear she's here every other day that Jade isn't hanging out at her place.

I quietly trail behind her, careful not to make a sound, the soft soles of my white Air Force sneakers barely grazing against the polished floor. She walks past my room, that's halfway open without a glance. Hesitation creeps into her strides, and she pauses, retracing her steps. Elle turns swiftly towards my bedroom door just as I conceal myself behind the archway that juts from the wall. I peek out to see her scanning the hallway back and forth before tentatively stepping closer to my room.

She crouches down like some sneaky cat, poking her head in and slipping inside a moment later. What is she up to? I walk over to the door, pushing it open slowly. Elle stands with her hand outstretched towards the bookshelf, her fingers grasping the Daryl Dixon keychain. I close the door with a soft click, and Elle whirls around, startled, the keychain clutched tightly against her chest—his head poking out from her fist around its body.

"I-I'm stealing back what's mine," she stutters, her brows furrowing slightly over those glimmering brown eyes I haven't fully understood.

I take a few steps deeper into the room. "And now you're alone with me," I remember the way she had bitten back with defiance about how there was no way she'd want to be alone with me. It makes me want to test it—test her words and see how much truth they hold.

It had felt unexpectedly good when she came to my defense, telling her friend how she didn't know me enough to say bad things about me or how she liked me enough to let me take her first kiss. Was she keeping up her act even if I wasn't around to witness it?

"If you kindly let me pass. I'll be on my way." Elle says, watching me stalk closer and closer. One foot lifts, taking a step back, only to bump into the towering bookshelf like she forgot it was there. Her body presses against the wooden edge like a cornered rabbit. Her eyes dart around the room frantically—my desk in the corner, the vintage record player with its wooden crate full of vinyl, and my half-made king-sized bed.

I keep a straight face, but the urge to smirk is strong. It's kind of cute, the way she's trying to act tough even though her chest rises and falls with nervous breaths. My eyes shift to her lips, the thought of their sweet taste lingering. If the idea of me kissing her isn't leaving her restless and tongue-tied, she'd be hurling insults at me right now.

Ever since I overheard the conversation in my dad's office about Elle being able to help me, I've been turning it over and over again in my mind. I thought about that exchange she had with my sister in the school hallway. How she wished there were fewer people like me and Cassie around, that she had to deal with two bullies. I've never bullied her. Although I've said some strong words only in defense of her horrible words about me.

Putting that together with a few other things, it hit me—she probably only wants to 'help me' to get back at me. I can't think of another better reason and strangely, it makes this whole thing more interesting.