Fissure by Nicole Williams Read Free Book Online Page B

world.”
         Wow, this girl’s got issues. Anger, daddy, or boyfriend issues I wasn’t sure, but I guessed it was an impressive mix of all three.
         “Pat—”
         “I know who you are,” she said, cutting me off as she held out the ticket curled between her fingertips like it was painful to have skin to paper contact with it. “Emma said you would be the ‘adorable’ one dressed for a photo shoot ten minutes late.”
         “Emma said I was adorable?”
         “Maybe,” she said, chipping away at the remains of her black nail polish. “But if you ever repeat that I repeated that, I’ll use my jedi knight skills on you and light saber your fine little butt.”
         It was a funny thing to say and I normally would have laughed, but this girl was tipping the crazy scale just enough that I didn’t doubt she was serious. “My lips are sealed.”
         “Sure, they’re not,” she said, continuing her masochistic manicure.
         I never had any issues cutting to the point, so now was as good a time as any. “What’s the deal with Emma and Terminator?”
         She smiled the opposite of the happy kind. “You seem like a decent guy,” she began. “Wait, I take that back. I don’t know you enough to make that assertion, but I like looking at you. A lot.” To prove it, she took a full body inventory where we stood. A lesser man would have squirmed in his size elevens. “So it’s in my best interest to keep you alive and in one fine piece, so I’m going to offer you a piece of advice.” She looked me square in the eye. Even the green of her eyes was unusual, like it was radioactive. “Stay away from Emma.”
         Yeah, that wasn’t going to happen. “You’re a fan of Ty’s,” I stated.
         “You mean chump-butt?” she said. “No way, Jose, but I am a fan of Emma’s, and you in her life is not a good thing while Ty’s—”
         “Still her boyfriend,” I interrupted.
         Her eyes drilled into mine harder. “Alive,” she finished.
         This girl was putting a serious damper on my Friday night. Enough with the mood stifling already. “Thanks for the tip, but I can handle myself against your stereotypical, college meathead.”
    She rolled her eyes. “Sure, you can’t.”
    This conversation was going nowhere. Fast. “Thanks for the ticket. It was nice . . .”—what was the right word?—“ chatting with you.”
    She laughed one hard note that rocked her body. “Hey, Top Gun? One more pointer before you head in there,” she called out as I headed towards the gymnasium. “Since I doubt you’ll be flying the friendly skies in an F-14 while Kenny Loggins plays on a loop in the background anytime soon,”—she smirked at me, scanning me head to toe—“might want to loose the aviators. They’ll eat you alive if you go in there looking like a pretty boy version of Ice Man.”
    I’m sure to her that was a way of showing her concern for someone she liked, but what she didn’t expect from me was that I loved me a little roshambo.
    I kept the glasses firmly in place, grinning my response. “Aren’t you coming?” I asked as she stayed planted by the doors.
    She did an exaggerated shudder. “No. I have a strict no mixing it with the jocks policy ever since a pack of them made my life hell in high school. Enjoy,” she said, kicking open the door behind her with her shiny purple military boot. “Try to stay alive. I’d like to undress you with my eyes at least a few thousand more times.”
         Objectification. If this is the way I made the women I did it on (with the purest of intentions, of course) feel, I was going to have to ease up.
         The crowd exploded to a roar suddenly, as I guessed the teams were making their appearance on the court. Which meant Emma was just a room away.
         Putting resolutions on hold, I jogged into the gymnasium, handing my ticket to the attendant while I craned my neck,