ANYTHING BUT ENEMIES

44. mark my words

As Dane steps off the stage, the crowd breaks out into chatter, a hoard people getting up to talk to him before getting drinks, chairs being pulled up to tables, pastries being passed around.

He saunters over after what seems like an eternity, clanging the trophy down into the middle of the table Maya and I are at.

"So, Cleodora, how does it feel losing to me again?"

"Maya, do you hear something?" I ask, resting my chin on my hand as I turn to her.

"Nope, nothing," she plays along, shrugging.

"Very funny," Dane reaches over to break a piece off my lemon tart, grinning when I smack his hand away. "Looks like someone's a sore loser."

"To be a sore loser, I'd have to care about this competition."

Maya chuckles at my response before getting up from her seat. "I'm gonna go get a drink. I'll be right back—oh, and congrats Dane."

"Maya," I hiss, incredulous, "We don't congratulate the enemy."

"Thanks," Dane says to her, ignoring me with a bright smile that hurts my eyes.

Ugh.

As she leaves, he holds out a hand, and I stare up at him from under my eyelashes, waiting to see what he wants.

"What?"

"Let me read your poem."

I scoff. "Yeah, that'll happen."

"Come on," he urges, tilting his head at me, "You scared or something?"

"I'm getting deja vu."

"The poem."

"What do you have to offer me?"

"A cold black coffee, no sugar, take it or leave it."

"Ew." I wrinkle my nose. "Leave it."

He snatches a chair from the next table over, sitting down before scooting in close to me, hand slipping up my thigh under the table. "What were you thinking then?"

My breath grows lighter, but I do my best to appear unaffected. "You can do the bibliography for my Women in the Renaissance paper."

"MLA format?" he asks, lips twitching at my request, hand warm on my skin.

"Yeah. Fuck it up, and my professor will dock five points. Minimum."

"What a bitch," he murmurs, but doesn't seem particularly deterred.

I guess that's what happens when you're at the top of every class you take.

"Do we have a deal or not?"

"We have a deal."

His hand leaves my thigh, extending out to me for a handshake. I roll my eyes before clasping it, pumping down and up once then letting go.

"Ooh, you two have made amends already?" Maya's voice returns with the clanking of a cup of tea on the table. "That's faster than usual."

"She's too weak to resist my charms," Dane says, successfully managing to snag a piece of my tart this time. I reach over to pinch his arm, nails digging into his skin, but he doesn't seem affected. I guess he's used to it by now.

"Sure, that's what it is."

He smiles over at me, chewing the stolen pastry. "I'm glad we can agree on something."

I pull my hand away, shaking my head before shoving the plate at him. "Here, go crazy."

"It's not fun when you just give it to me though."

I jab my thumb at him, looking at Maya, "This is borderline masochistic behavior, right? Like I can't just be imagining this."

Maya snorts, leaning forward to break off a piece of the lemon tart for herself. "Hey, I don't claim to be a therapist."

"What kind of psych major are you?" I cross my arms over my chest before turning back to Dane. "Anyway I'll win next time."

He raises an eyebrow at me. "Next time being...?"

"Whatever's next—poetry slam, assignment, competition. I'll win."

He pokes out his lip at me mockingly, "Good luck with that, Cleodora. I'll be cheering for you."

"Mark my words, Dane Anderson, you're going down."

He grins, eyes flashing in a way that immediately puts me on high alert, sets off butterflies in my stomach.

"I'd like to see you try."

THE END