Game Theory × NH

064 | gadolinium

So I excused myself to the restroom.

I squeezed between the line of students ordering mediocre, lukewarm coffee at the counter before they quickly choke it down as fast as they could for the relief of caffeine running through their veins in order to get them through the next few hours; or at least until their next cup of coffee. I then proceeded to the door of the women's bathroom.

Inside the room, I went straight to the sink and lifted my foot up on the marble stone and examined my ankle, moving it left to right and in a circle as my joints moved against each other. Ever since the team and I got into the BUSA and Coach started playing hardball on us, my ankle had been acting up. Nothing to see a doctor about, but definitely something to keep an eye on.

I stayed in the bathroom for a while to make sure Jace and Hazel had enough time alone before I left. Rounding the hallway, I started back to the corner where the two were sitting only to stop mid-stride.

They were gone.

Quickly looking around the shop, I wondered if a spot had opened up on one of the sofas by the fire and they snagged it before it was occupied again, but they were nowhere to be seen. The only evidence they were even there were the three china cups left on the table.

I took out my phone to text Jace and to ask him where he was, but he had already beaten me to the punch with a text of his own.

Sorry about ditching you; Hazel had to leave and I wanted to talk to her some more. I'll pick you up once she's home.

I heaved a long sigh in irritation. Knowing I had at least twenty minutes to spare, I sat down in the seat I was sitting in before and started playing a game on my phone. Not even three minutes later someone came and took the seat across from me.

I expected to see Jace, that maybe Hazel's house was a lot closer than I anticipated, but I did not expect to see Louis Tomlinson, the Doncaster Rovers player that Niall had punched during a game.

His unruly brunette hair seemed impossibly messy and his cheekbones were as sharp as ever. If I didn't know any better, I would have thought his cocky smile was a permanent thing because as he leaned over the table to look at me with his dull, blue eyes, I could have sworn that grin was on his face even after Niall punched him.

"What are you doing sitting all alone?" he asked, his gaze looking me up and down. "Get stood up?"

I sat my phone down on the table and stared at him, making it known that I didn't like him very much. "What do I owe the pleasure to see you here? Don't you have some harassing to do somewhere else?"

Louis laughed like it was the most hilarious joke in the world, he laughed like we were two old friends reuniting, when in fact none of that was true. "Don't you have some balls to kick or something?"

"Yeah," I agreed with a curt nod of the head. "And they're yours."

The comment didn't crack him, not even a little bit. He was going to play the snarky grin card through and through. "I heard you're in the BUSA. I'd say congratulations, but unfortunately for you, I'm in the BUSA as well, and your achievements stop here."

"You're pretty confident," I observed. "I can't tell if that's poised or arrogance."

"Can't it be both?"

"Sure, but the bottom line is..." I trailed off and leaned closer so I knew he heard every ward and that he knew it was a promise. "We're going to win."