Zip, Zero, Zilch
Page 8

I can see the flash of his grin in the dark. “You suck.”
His gaze jerks to me. “I can, if you want me to.”
My heart trips a beat. “Stop that,” I whisper.
“Why?” he whispers back.
Sam and I went out a few times, and I really like him a lot. But I’m not like most of the girls he dates, and I know that. I can’t compete with them. I’m tall, five-eleven. Six-foot when I wear shoes. Other women are petite. And small. And I’m an Amazon compared to them. But I’m not big compared to him. Not at all. He’s six-three. And wide. He’s an outside linebacker for the New York Skyscrapers. In fact, when I’m with him, I feel tiny. But I’m not. Not really.
“What’s on your mind, cupcake?” he asks. “Spill your guts. You’ll feel better.”
I doubt it. I shake my head.
“Why won’t you return my calls, cupcake?” he asks.
“You said you were going to be quiet,” I remind him. Tap. Tap.
“I lied.”
I laugh. I can’t help it.
“So…” he says, drawing out the O so that it lasts forever.
Tap. Tap. “I was really afraid for you when I found out about your car accident,” I say. I bite my tongue, because if I keep talking, he’s going to drag all my secrets from that place in my heart where I keep them hidden.
“You could have fooled me. You didn’t even call.”
“I came to the ho—” I catch myself and stop.
“I remember your being at the hospital,” he says, sitting up a little.
I nod. “I came.” Tap. Tap.
“Did I sound stupid when I talked to you?”
He did. But it’s what he said that was important. And not what he said to me. “No.” Tap. Tap. “I didn’t stay long.”
“Why not?”
“You were busy.”
“Busy with what?”
“Busy with someone else.”
“Who?” His voice is whipcord strong and fast.
I shrug. “Some girl.”
He thinks back and then I see recognition on his face. “Pete said Amanda came by. She’s just a friend.”
I nod.
“Really, she is.”
“It doesn’t matter.” Tap. Tap.
“It does fucking matter!” he whisper-shouts. “We used to date. That’s all. She came to check on me. She’s a friend.”
“You sleep with all your friends?” Tap. Tap. Yes, I Googled him. And her. She was a cheerleader for the team. She was gorgeous and petite and all the things I’m not.
“We. Used. To. Date.” He says the words slowly. “We don’t date anymore.”
“It doesn’t matter.” I try to smile at him. But I can’t. It matters. It matters so much.
“You came to see me.” I can hear the grin in his voice and it makes my heart skip.
I wish he would shut up.
“God, cupcake,” he says. “I wish you wouldn’t do that.”
“D-do wh-what?” Crap. I forgot to tap.
His eyes narrow.
Tap. Tap. “Do what?” I say again.
He lays a hand over his heart. “You just gave me hope.”
I don’t say anything, because I can’t.
“She was just a friend,” he says again.
“Maybe you should tell her that.”
“Okay. I will if I ever get in another car accident and almost die and she’s nice enough to come and see me.”
I close my eyes and breathe.
“I’ll send her packing, as soon as I wake up, cupcake.” He laughs. “In fact, I’ll have my family send her packing before I wake up. Will that work for you?”
“You used to date her.” Tap. Tap.
“Yep.”
“For a long time.”
“For a while.”
I don’t say anything.
“You want to know if I had sex with her, cupcake?” he asks quietly.
“N-no.” I bite my lips together.
“Is that why you won’t go out with me? Because I’m not a virgin? Because if that’s the case, I need to tell Sally Parker that she ruined my life when I was fifteen.”
My chest heaves with a sigh.
“I swear to God, cupcake, if I had known my virginity was what you were after, I would never have given it away.”
I shake my head. He’s teasing me. I can feel the corners of my lips tilting up.
“Don’t smile,” he says.
I can’t help it. I finally grin. “F-fuck you,” I say.
He looks at my sticks. “What’s up with the sticks, cupcake?”
Tap. Tap. “Nothing.”
“Oh, it’s something,” he says quietly.
I sit forward and rap them on the table, and take a rim shot off the top of his head. I barely tap him. And he laughs.
“So you won’t take my calls because…” He stops, prompting me by nudging my knee with his. “Don’t tell me it’s because you found out I’m not a virgin, because this was before you saw the cheerleader in my hospital room.”
I shake my head.
“Was it because of the lights?”
Oh, holy hell. The last time we went out, we were about to get it on, and he wouldn’t turn out the lights.
I might as well get this out of the way.
“It was just too intimate,” I admit. Tap. Tap.