Chapter 5-3
1652 Words
The next morning, Bryna shrugged off Stacia’s questions about her night. She didn’t want to talk about it. It had been a while since she felt so low. And it made zero sense. After such a victory, she should have been unbelievably happy, yet she had lain awake for far too long, trying to fall asleep and chase the memories away.
She was not broken. Today, she would renew her calm confidence and forget about the momentary slip.
They were transported back to the airport, and she sank heavily into her assigned seat on the airplane. Her head was throbbing. She was in no mood to talk to anyone. It was too early in the morning, and she hadn’t gotten enough sleep. As soon as the plane took off, she was going to put in her headphones and pass out. She wished she were flying private, so she would have a bed to sleep in. That would be ideal.
“Bryna!” Beth said, appearing in front of her.
Beth was a senior on the cheer team and a real pain in the ass.
“Hey, Beth,” she said.
“You’re sitting next to Greg, right?” she asked.
“Uh…yeah, I think so.”
“Can we switch seats?”
Bryna arched an eyebrow. “Why?”
“Why do you think?” She flipped her dark brown ponytail and winked. “Plus, you’ll be at the front of the plane, so first off.”
Bryna wanted to ask what Beth was going to do for her if she switched, but it was a sign of how out of it she was that she didn’t. “Fine. Where are you sitting?”
Beth breathed out a sigh of relief as if she had thought it was going to be more difficult than that. She handed over her plane ticket, and Bryna grabbed her bags and trudged up the aisle. She found her row empty and took the aisle seat even though Beth’s ticket directed her to the window.
Bryna hated window seats. She hated the thought of climbing over people to have to get up. She hated waiting for someone else to get out of the way, so she could get to her bags. In fact, this was why she hated coach, too. If she couldn’t fly private, then it absolutely should be first class.
She hoisted her carry-on into the overhead bin, retrieved her headphones, and placed her purse under the seat in front of her. She was blissfully unaware of her surroundings as soon as she closed her eyes and turned on her music. This was her Zen. As long as no one disturbed her, she might be able to control the über bitchiness that was bubbling right under the surface this morning.
A tap on her shoulder pulled her right out of her happy place. She yanked off her headphones and glared up at the person who had disturbed her.
“You’re in the wrong seat,” Eric grumbled.
Fucking great.
“We meet again,” she said dryly.
“You’re in the wrong seat,” he repeated.
“I switched with Beth. She wanted to sit by Greg. I’m sure if I had known I’d have to sit by you on the way home, I wouldn’t have been so generous.”
“Generous,” he said with a chuckle. “I’ve heard you’re very generous.”
She ignored the jab and rolled her eyes. “Just what I wanted.”
Eric threw his bag up next to hers. “Seemed that way at Posse.”
Bryna hadn’t talked to him since that night, and if she’d had it her way, she wouldn’t be having this conversation at all. Especially after the night she’d had, she was in no mood for this.
“Don’t flatter yourself.”
“Didn’t have to,” he said. He crossed his arms over his muscular chest. “You did that for me, remember?”
Bryna glowered at him. Seriously, what is wrong with him? All this because I’m sitting in Beth’s seat? f**k off already! “You have no idea what you’re talking about, so I suggest you shut the f**k up,” she said.
At her profanity, the people in the seats surrounding them glanced over, but Eric pointedly smiled at them, and they quickly looked away.
He leaned forward before speaking again, “Why don’t you scoot over?”
“Um…no. I like the aisle. If I have to demean myself by flying coach, I’m staying in the aisle.”
“Wow. Flying coach must be so rough for you,” he said as sarcastically as possible. Then, he stepped over her legs and sank into the seat next to her. He pushed his backpack under the seat and removed his own headphones.
“I prefer to fly private,” she said.
“Why does none of this surprise me?”
Bryna gritted her teeth. She had given him the benefit of the doubt earlier because she admired his football skills. But her temper was flaring, and she wasn’t sure she was going to be able to handle this right now.
“What the f**k is your problem? You don’t know anything about me.”
“I know enough,” he drawled, untangling the cord of the headphones.
“Clearly nothing important. What about you, Cowboy?” she joked, but it came out with venom.
She knew Eric was from outside of Dallas, and the Southern drawl sometimes crept into his words.
“What should I know about you, other than that you’re a self-righteous prick who likes to try to humiliate people and pick fights?”
“A self-righteous prick?” He raised his eyebrows and then nodded. “Seems you already know everything about me. Not sure why you asked me out if you thought that about me.”
“Ugh! It was a joke.”
“Asking me out?”
“Yes!” she snapped. “It was a joke.”
“You don’t have to cover it up, Bryna. I thought you were quite proud of your promiscuity,” he said the last word so casually.
On any other day, she might have not cared about what he was saying about her, what he was insinuating about her reputation. But she’d had s*x last night with Andrew, someone she didn’t even care about. She wasn’t ashamed of what she had done.
“Slut-shaming? That’s a new one.”
“I wasn’t shaming you. Just making a statement about the facts,” he said.
Bryna glared harder and tried to keep from biting his head off. She took a deep breath and then worked for her hardened exterior. “Promiscuous has such a negative connotation, Eric. I like s*x. Maybe you don’t?” she suggested.
It was as close as she could get to saying she knew he was gay without saying it. Though she was sure he probably had a lot of s*x with other men, too. That seemed perfectly normal.
“I like s*x,” he said in that sweet Southern drawl.
She swallowed hard. Hot. “Anyway, I am very picky, so our conversation had to be a joke.”
“I’m sure.”
“You seriously have a negative opinion of me.”
“I can’t be the only one. You seem to make it rather easy.”
She wasn’t sure why that offended her, except that she had never done anything to Eric. He had this god-awful impression of her that made no sense. So, she had slept with one of the guys on the team last night. Who cared? Stacia had slept with a dozen. Yet Eric’s venom was specifically for Bryna. She never saw him act this way around anyone else.
“Most people find me pretty awesome actually,” she said through gritted teeth.
“Do you tell them that?” He gave her a pointed look.
“What? No!”
“You think very highly of yourself, is all, and you’re not afraid to let other people know how great you are.”
“What’s wrong with that anyway?” she spat. How dare he judge me! “It’s called self-confidence. More people should have it.”
“There’s self-confidence, and then there’s you.”
Bryna beamed as if what he was saying was a real prize. “Thank you.”
“It wasn’t a compliment,” he said in frustration. “Kind of hard to get through to you up there.”
“Hard to get through to me? Are you insane? Talking to you is like speaking to a brick wall. Are you even going to graduate on time? Aren’t all jocks idiots?”
He stared blankly back at her, but she saw something brewing in his hazel eyes. He was irritated. She was turning into more of an annoyance than he had bargained for. It was clear he was trying to antagonize her to make her leave, but she had no intention of doing so. Not now for sure.
Something changed in his face as if he was resolute. Bryna braced herself for his barb.
“All jocks are idiots? At least we got into school based on talent, not on our parents’ booster donations.”
“I had a four-point-oh in high school. I had the grades and clearly the talent to get in here. Why the hell did they keep you anyway? It’s not like you have talent anymore.” She leaned into him to deliver her killing blow. “Let me ask you, Eric, what’s it like not having a functional knee?”
Eric cringed.
She knew she had taken it too far, but he had started this s**t. And she would certainly finish it. He already thought poorly of her. What would it matter if she dug her own grave?
Eric’s mouth hung open slightly, and then he snapped it closed. His eyes were hard, but what she hadn’t anticipated was the look on his face. It wasn’t anger or disgust as he had every right to feel but rather determination.
He was quiet when he responded, “What’s it like not having a working heart? Must be hard to continue living with a black pit in your chest.”
He had no idea.
She opened her mouth to respond even though she had no clue what to say. He was right. She didn’t have a functional heart, and it constantly felt like she had a black pit in her chest. But she couldn’t let him know that.
“Come on, Bryna. Throw more punches. Get in some more swings. I can go all day like this.”
And he looked serious.
She didn’t know what to make of that. No one went head-to-head with her and came out ahead. But she didn’t know what to say. She had no witty retort.
Finally, she shrugged and faced forward. “Whatever.”
She plugged her headphones into her ears and tried not to notice the victorious smile that spread across his face.
He hadn’t won.
Right?
- Writer
