The Scars of Anatomy

16. Up the Ante

Monday morning, my alarm clock goes off and I hit the snooze button at least seven times, missing my first class.

After the homecoming game, and after Olivia was rudely whisked away due to rat boys temper tantrum, I may have decided to celebrate our win just a little bit. Or a lot. All weekend long. And I may or may not have a mild hangover currently.

I'm almost tempted to skip my second class, but I think better of it. It's already halfway through the semester, and I'm not sure how many classes I can afford to skip anymore with finals slowly approaching.

Half awake, I drag my ass out of bed and shuffle to the showers. After a quick shower, I get dressed and sling my backpack over my shoulder, heading to the nearest coffee shop on campus, in dire need of a caffeine fix to get myself going.

I walk into the tiny, sleek, modern shop filled with students, the strong scent of coffee wafting around in the air, tingling my senses. Standing in line, I scan the shop and find Delilah sitting near the windows, chatting with a petite blonde whose glasses are almost as big as hers. As if sensing my gaze, Delilah turns her head and we lock eyes. She gives me a smile and a wave, and I reciprocate the friendly gesture just before I'm up next to place my order.

After ordering my cold brew, I patiently stand off to the side and wait for the barista to call out my name. It only takes a few minutes for them to make my coffee and I'm out the door, walking towards my class.

"Miller!"

I look over my shoulder to see Delilah lightly jogging to catch up with me, her dark curls bouncing with each step. I stop and wait for her.

"What's up, Dee?" I ask, taking a sip of my coffee.

She takes a moment to catch her breath, adjusting her thick rimmed glasses and emerald color cardigan she has paired with a white top and dark plaid pants. "I just wanted to apologize for the other night."

I furrow my brow, not quite understanding what she has to be sorry for.

"Quinton," she says. "I realize I'm the one that accidentally spilled the beans that Olivia and I were going to the homecoming game," she clarifies.

"Originally, I was texting my cousin and I guess I wasn't paying too much attention. A text came through asking me what I was doing that night, and me thinking I was still texting my cousin, texted back that I was going to the homecoming game. I didn't think anything of it, but then the next thing I know it's an interrogation about who I was going with, what time, etcetera. Before I could realize it wasn't my cousin who I was texting anymore, it was too late." She cringes, looking guilty.

Ahh, that helps explain it.

"From there, Quinton called me and I couldn't really lie at that point. He came over to my house just as Olivia was pulling into the driveway to pick me up and he tagged along. I'm sorry," she apologizes sincerely.

I shake my head, dismissively waving my hand with the coffee in it, the ice clanking against the side of the cup. "It's alright, Dee. I'm sure he would have found some other way to crash, anyway," I admit bitterly.

Her lips purse ruefully and she nods. "Still. And I'm sorry I couldn't hold him back when you guys went to the truck. You two looked pretty... preoccupied when he came storming through," she says, her lips twitching up into a knowing grin.

I huff out a laugh, shoving a hand into the front pocket of my jeans. "Yeah, the guy has got great timing."

She lets out a laugh, expression sobering after. "You were going to kiss her, huh?"

I take a sip of my coffee, trying to hide any emotions on my face. "Maybe," I muse.

She grins, eyes twinkling. "I knew it."