Extra Credit - S01 E36

8 months ago

Extra Credit - S01 E36

Read Story: SEASON 1 EPISODE 36

Calista

It had been over a week since I had last spoken to Lincoln. The Thanksgiving break had come and gone without a word from him. I had sent him the occasional message asking about tutoring and how Sadie was doing. It was as if he straight up disappeared off of the face of the planet. Part of me wanted to storm over to the training facility and demand an answer—a reason as to why he was leaving me on read and avoiding my calls.

But if I was being honest, I was too embarrassed.

The night Lincoln and I had sex, I felt like we had connected on another level. He was so open with me, telling me things about his past—things involving Sadie and his parents. I honestly felt as though he trusted me. Cared for me. Instead of being able to bask in the progress we have made I sat in The Underground with Harper contemplating if everything he said to me was a lie.

I didn't want to believe it. There was no way Lincoln was diabolical enough to make up everything he had told me that night. He wasn't a fuck boy trying to get some action. Not unless he liked playing the long game. I sighed, pinching another nacho off of the platter. I had never been so fucked up over a boy.

"I'll hang him by his toes and wait until he passes out," Harper grumbled around the chip in her mouth. "Or perhaps we could waterboard him until he apologizes for his transgressions."

We had ordered a plate of nachos to share. Share being the operative word. Harper had smashed more than half of them on her angry tirade.

"That won't solve anything," I reminded her.

She shoved another short-stack of nachos in her mouth. Then she swallowed. "It would make me feel better. Next time listen to me. I swear I have a radar for assholes."

"Harper, you think everyone is an asshole before you get to know them."

"Guilty until proven otherwise." She brought her attention back to the plate in front of her. Her thick ponytail swishing like a horse's mane.

She picked up another chip. It hovered inches from her lips. Unlike the others, this one didn't make it any further. Harper froze, her eyes glued to the staircase that housed the main entrance to The Underground.

I popped another chip in my mouth, taking my time with chewing as I regarded her. "What are you looking at?" I said once I had swallowed. Unlike Harper, I couldn't eat like a caveman in public.

Peeking over the back of the booth, I tried to figure out what had her attention in a death grip. It didn't take me too long.

Speak of the devil.

Descending down the steps of the bustling bar was none other than Lincoln. Andrew right next to him. Sandwiched between them, on Lincoln's board shoulder, was his gym bag. I admired the way his t-shirt stretched taut across his chest; the way his hair hung in its usual dishevelled manner.

He looked good, like he was doing fine. My chest tightened. All of the frustration that had taken over my body for the past week had been replaced by a gut-wrenching sadness.

I ducked back down behind my booth, settling into my seat. My stomach churned, the mediocre appetite I had managed to stir up dissipated.

"Get up, Cal." Harper demanded. "They're on the move."

I swallowed a large gulp of beer. "Huh? We're not going anywhere."

"We most certainly are," Harper insisted, grabbing hold of my wrist. She tugged on my arm, leading me out of the booth and into the crowd of people that had begun to gather for the night.