Nathan Marsh's State of Being

Chapter Seven

uncomfortable

A few days later, I waited outside my dorm, leaning against the railing for the steps.

Harley had just sent me a text and the seconds seemed to tick by painfully slowly as I waited for Dante to walk out of the building.

When he finally did, I waved at him awkwardly, but the blonde guy didn't even notice me. He looked focused yet again. And broody, which was nothing new either.

I remembered the few times I'd seen him in high school, face all serious and eyes dark. The only time I'd ever seen him show emotion was in those videos where he was pleading with Harley to take him back on prom night. I wished I'd never watched those. Just their existence was a huge invasion of privacy, and I'd thought it back then, too, but Jason had insisted I watch with him. He'd snickered at the pain in Dante's voice, playing it over and over again.

I winced at the memory and I cursed myself for agreeing to do this. Then I cursed Harley for even asking me. He was a shit friend.

But I hurried forward and caught up to Dante so I was walking in step with him.

He finally noticed me and gave me a creeped out look. He didn't stop walking, though. His tone was a mix between confused and condescending. "Can I help you with something?"

I shrugged. If I thought waiting to talk to Dante was painful, I was wrong. "How's it going?"

We approached the curb and Dante looked both ways for cars before crossing. I followed after him despite how badly I just wanted to walk the other way.

"Why are you talking to me?"

Ouch. I feigned innocence. "Do I need a reason?"

"Yes."

Well you're a bowl full of sunshine, I thought. Despite what I'd seen in those videos, I really didn't understand what Harley had seen in Dante. This guy was an ass.

I grabbed his arm, giving up on the casual approach. We came to a stop and Dante finally gave me his full attention. He stared pointedly at my hand and I dropped it. I put my hands in my pockets, feeling out of my element, and thought of Noel.

Straightening my back, I met Dante's gaze more steadily. "What's your deal with Harley?"

He looked taken aback for a second. Then his dark blue eyes became guarded. "Excuse me?"

"I know you're not deaf," I snapped.

Dante's eyes changed from guarded to cold. "There is no deal."

"Like I believe that," I scoffed. "Why are you playing hot and cold with him? Ignoring him and then hooking up with him when he's drunk? That's low."

"Are you kidding me?" His eyes momentarily blew wide with shock. When I didn't respond he shook his head. He was chuckling dryly and it was unnerving. "He's the one playing hot and cold. I told him what I wanted and he wasn't having it. I bet he didn't tell you that, did he?"

I quirked my lips, digging my hands deeper into my pockets. "Well, no, but--"

"And I bet he also didn't tell you that he's the one who climbed into my bed that night and refused to leave until I gave in."

I bit my lip. This was one of the most awkward moments of my life.

Dante continued, ignoring me as he ranted. "Of course not, because he's pretending it didn't happen. He won't even look at me and now he's sending you to do his dirty work. That's so typical of him."