Eliza Jane - In Too Deep

“Oh.” Her breath hisses out in a sympathetic sound. She brings her index finger to the scar and traces it gently. Her touch is light and graceful.

“I’m fine – really, Taylor.” But I can’t deny, her concern is sweet. It’s more than McAllister did – he told me to man up and that was it. 

I hurry through the breakfast line, loading a plate with a bagel and fruit salad, then grab a tropical fruit smoothie, before I join MJ and Logan at our usual table. I’m dying to talk to them today.

The more work I’ve done on the oil tanker assignment, the more warning bells have started going off in my head. It’s a real vessel, out on the open sea. Taking it over is like being a hijacker. I have no idea what McAllister could be up to, but something about it doesn’t sit right with me.

Once MJ is done reliving her very graphic date from the other night, I finally get a chance to speak. But when I tell them about my concerns over the assignment, MJ rolls her eyes and Logan chuckles.

“You’re overreacting, Taylor,” MJ says. “Just do the assignment. That’s why we’re here.” She plucks the strawberry from the top of my fruit salad. “You weren’t going to eat that, were you?”

I smile, but inside my stomach churns. MJ’s work is translating documents, and Logan practices building and disabling bombs in an old barn – their work is in no way comparable to my assignments. Hacking is illegal.

Logan shakes his head. “You’re trying to talk to us about assignments, when we actually need to be talking about the other super-duper strange thing that’s been going on inside that computer lab.”

I raise my eyebrows. “And what’s that?”

“The fact that the school’s charming manwhore comes to visit you every day.”

I choke on a sip of smoothie.

MJ leans forward, excited by the change in topic. “Yes, let’s discuss that, Taylor.”

I swallow down the smoothie. “He doesn’t come every day.” He’s missed a day or two over the past few weeks.

“Damn near,” Logan scoffs. “What do you guys do in there any way?”

Before I can respond, MJ thrusts her hips enthusiastically demonstrating her answer.

“No.” I shake my head firmly, staring down MJ until she stops her little display. “I don’t know. We don’t do anything. We just talk, work on assignments, stuff like that.” The truth is, I can’t answer them because I have no idea why Colt comes to hang out with me. I am equal parts happy and worried that he wants to spend time with me. We train together in the mornings, he joins me in Independent Study, and then in his class he pays me extra attention, often pushing me harder than the others.

His behavior towards girls still repulses me, but I’m starting to see that’s not all there is to him. My feelings toward him are starting to concern me, and I know people are starting to notice something’s up between us.

“Well I heard that the second year girls are getting pissed, saying that when he’s with you – they get shot down,” Logan says.

Yes, that was even more curious than him spending time with me – the fact that he seemed to have curbed his appetite.

MJ laughs. “Let’s not start thinking that Colt’s a saint, kids, I’m sure he’s still hooking up when he’s not around you. But Logan’s right, you’re going to make some serious enemies if he keeps this up. People are starting to wonder what game he’s playing.”

Logan turns to MJ. “Don’t hate. Maybe he actually likes her.” He scratches his head. “Or maybe he’s waiting for her eighteenth birthday to roll around.”

Suddenly losing my appetite, I push back from the table and grab my tray. “I’ll see you guys later.”

We stand in the dance studio, waiting for Zumba to begin. Bria is bent over in front of the sound system, selecting her music. The door pulls open and the roomful of girls all turn. It’s Britt.

“I need to speak with one of your students.” The way she spits the word is like she has a mouthful of venom. “Taylor.” She looks at me, her eyes narrowing.

I turn to Bria. Class is about to begin, surely I won’t be dismissed to go with Britt. A wicked little grin spreads across Bria’s lips. “Sure.” She motions for me to go with Britt. Nothing like a woman scorned.

I inwardly groan. What could Britt want with me? I glance at MJ, who appears just as unsure as I feel. I follow Britt into the locker room.

Britt steps closer, breaching the little space between us so we’re toe to toe. “I don’t know what game you think you’re playing, but your little thing with Colt won’t last.”

Crap. My suspicious are confirmed. I’ve inadvertently made enemies of the second year girls. I stand my ground, though I’m shaking like a leaf in a wind storm. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. Colt and I are friends. That’s it. I have no interest in more, knowing where he’s been.” I eye her like she’s a piece of trash, and her eyebrows raise, catching onto my meaning.

“Just be careful, Taylor, that’s all I’m saying,” her tone softens. “You’re pissing a lot of people off right now.”

“Yeah, I caught onto that. But it’s not something I’m worried about. I know what I’m doing.”

“Do you?” she questions.

My stomach churns. Hell no. I have no clue what I’m doing spending so much time with the school’s biggest manwhore. I know it will end badly, likely with my heart broken again, but I feel powerless to stop it. My silence tells her everything she needs to know.

Britt pushes past me out the door.

Damn. That was awkward. I sit on the bench, not yet ready to join the rest of the class in the much hated Zumba.

I have no idea why Colt has been spending so much time with me. Now that I thought about it, I realized how incredibly lonely his life must be. Most people see him as an instructor, so he doesn’t have many friends here. And his behavior with girls doesn’t exactly allow for a real relationship – yeah, I’m so not going to feel bad for him in that regard. I’ll talk to him today; he needs to see that this new him is effecting me by drawing enemies my way.

After Colt’s class, I linger behind, standing beside the punching bags. The room empties out, leaving just Colt and I.

“How’s that oil tanker assignment coming? Have you decided what to do?” he asks, meeting me on the side of the room.

I aim for the bag, throwing a punch that lands with a soft thud. “Not yet,” I breathe.

Colt comes up behind me, grips my hips and turns me to the side, so I’m positioned ninety degrees from the bag. My eyes fall closed at his touch, and images of the last time he touched my hips come flooding back. The way he effortlessly lifted me to the sink and leaned in to kiss me, soft at first, like he was testing what I thought, then with a rushing intensity when I kissed him back.

“Colt, stop.” I wiggle free from his hands. I let out a deep breath I didn’t know I was holding.

He steps back, holding up his hands. “Whoa. Just trying to help.”

“Well it’s not helping, okay?” I turn and face him. “I don’t know what’s going on between us. I have no idea why you come to the computer lab every day. I have no idea why you turn down other girls to spend time with me.” Everything I’m thinking spews from my mouth, against my will. Damn it.

Colt takes a step back. “Well sorry for being friendly.” His tone is soft.