Storm {A Light Novel}

. 2

R

It's pushing seven and he still hasn't called. I'm growing increasingly annoyed, mostly because it feels like waiting for your boyfriend or crush to call, none of which I have. So why am I wasting my time? Especially on some nerd.

"A third of your overall grade." Mr. Greene's voice booms in my head and I want to shut him out.

"Whatever." I give up. I'm calling him first. "Might as well just get this over with so I can move on with my life," I mutter.

The phone barely even rings and the screen opens up, half-filled with his hair. Just his fricking hair. It looks like a sliver of his face might be on screen, but I don't know if it's an intentional trick, putting his thumb near his camera, or his phone is bugged, but there's a black blur at the bottom of his screen.

"Hey loser," I say first. He shifts. "Aren't we supposed to work on our thing today? Why didn't you call?"

"Oh, yeah, sorry... I thought you would be busy, and I didn't want to bother you or interrupt anything, so..."

"So you were gonna wait 'til I called you?"

He nods, and I give in. I may not like him, but at least he tries to be courteous.

I sigh. "Okay, so what are we gonna do for this thing?"

He hums in thought for so long I can only assume it's for show.

"You really can't think of anything?" I snap. "How about something to do with nature, or like-- I don't know, social media and you--"

I catch a figure in sight of my camera a split second before arms wrap around my waist from behind. I jump and cringe, receiving a sloppy kiss to the cheek.

"Hey bae." Liam.

"Liam, what are you do--"

He retreats and moves onto sticking his nose all up in my phone, asking, "Who's this? What, you're calling someone?" He glances from me back to the screen and he squints. "A guy? Who the--" I snatch the phone and end the call before he starts cussing.

"What on earth, Liam! You have no right!" I am already yelling because I know he will and I was not about to have any of this. We weren't even together, so why should I?

"What are you getting all territorial for? And what do you mean 'no right'? You're my business, so this is my business. Who is it?"

I roll my eyes and am quick to find the door. I leave the bathroom and neither of us turns off the light. He grabs my arm and I hiss, pulling away.

"Who is it, I said!" I can tell he's trying to hold back a scream by the way his voice turns raspy.

"Liam, you need to go." I reach my bedroom door and hold it wide open for him.

He runs a hand through his hair and locks his eyes with mine on the upturn of his head. Within a second he is before me. He shuts the door and smacks the wall by my ear, me wincing in the other direction. He cages me in when I flinch, and lowers his lips to my ear, not yet touching.

In a low voice dripping with raw aggression, he states, "Listen. I know you're cheating on me." I'm not. "It's not nice to hurt people like this." We broke up. "Just tell me who it is."

I push his face away and look at him with pure disgust. Even my hands now feel like they're dripping with disease and it makes me want to hurl. Both hurl something up, and hurl something at him.

"Liam, get out!" I point to the door, but I might as well not have any hands or limbs in general attached to my body because he doesn't register any of my movements or cues.

He slams the wall with his fist. "Tell me who it is, Ryleigh!" As usual, he hears only what he wants to hear.

"Liam."

"I'm not leaving until you answer my question."

I turn and face the wall, massaging my forehead, trying to rub away the memories of the BS I was hearing. My feet begin to itch, so I move away from the corner and to the center of the room, putting distance between us.

"Not that it's any of your business, but it was just my partner for a project," I explain, keeping my eyes on the doorknob. I'm still waiting for him to leave.

He watches me long enough to compel me to dial three digits.

Once the emergency operator's voice breaks the silence in the room, he tenses. When my eyes find his back I realize my foot probably itches to kick him some place. I don't dare end the call until I hear the front door lock.

Screw being friends with exes. Who does he think he is waltzing into my house like that? And hovering over my every move like my dad? No, that's not even close to paternal love or protection. That's straight obsession. He's lost it. That's the only way I can explain his behavior, not that it lessens my fury any less.

I plunk down on my bed, all the energy leaving me from that interaction.

Sleep sounds sweet right now.