Tightrope

Hoping He'd Choke on Your Tongue?

Jace just shrugged.

I mimed violent gagging, and Jace and Knight stared at me with expressions of disbelief (Knight) and amusement (Hartley). I did not enjoy the camaraderie between them. Knight was my friend, and he was required to stay firmly aboard the hating-Hartley train with me, instead of jumping ship like the rest of my traitorous brainwashed Jace-loving friends.

If Jace and Knight became friends, I promised myself to move to Ibiza, and make loyal friends who had never heard of the vile Jace Hartley.

"I do not want to make out with Jace Hartley!" I insisted, miming another explosive puking episode for good measure.

"So, what, that—" Knight smashed his hands together in a vulgar yet vague imitation of my make out with Hartley "—was what? Suffocation technique? Hoping he'd choke on your tongue?"

I felt sick. Hartley laughed. I glared at him.

"What?" he said defensively. "I am sure that was, uh, what you were trying to do. Next time, a garrotte would suffice."

I made a face at him. He poked me in the ribs. I punched his arm.

"Do you guys always flirt this much or is this a, like, good-natured post make out thing?" Knight asked.

"We are not flirting."

"We always flirt this much."

I hit Jace again for good measure.

"You're very easy to get a rise out of, I'm sorry," said Jace.

"Did you say she's easy to get a ride out of?" Knight asked innocently. "Because the past ten minutes would suggest so, yes."

I decided I no longer had a strong anti-murder morality policy. The only question, really, was who to kill first? Usually I'd be firmly on the Hartley-must-die side, but Knight was truly impressing me with the strong case he was mounting. Knight was so insufferable sometimes; I was surprised he had survived this long. I had almost killed him four times already.

It reminded me of what Jace had said, at the beginning of the end. There's no other girl on this planet like you, Montez. Probably because if anyone else was this insufferable, they would've been murdered by now.

I internally admitted that I appreciated the additional comment, because I would hate to think I had not-like-other-girls energy. Instead, I was just annoying. Awesome.

"I am not easy to get a ride out of!" I said shrilly. "Not that that would be a problem, because we have a strict no slut shaming policy in this household!"

Jace, unfortunately, did not seem similarly angry. Instead, he, rather disgustingly, remained a vessel of amused camaraderie. It seemed Jace and Cole were headed straight for being formal bros.

Ibiza, here I come.

"I'm sure you're not easy," said Jace soothingly, seeing the seething anger in my expression. "I mean, it took me, what, over a decade?"

Knight had made himself comfortable in my discarded beanbag. He was also my sunglasses. The combination of a fedora and retro sunnies was startlingly dramatic. Then again, so was Knight.

Knight seemed to be enjoying his role as devil's advocate. I was going to make him eat that fedora. "Maybe it took you a decade, but she also hated—" at my look, he revised "—hates you. Like, passionately. And she still hooked up with you."

"I am going to passionately punch you."

"Is that before or after you passionately stick your tongue down Hartley's throat?"