Romantically Entangled

Chapter 18

Nicki

I hear the distant sound of thunder as I lower myself to the roof.

It's become my favorite spot in the house. Over the last two weeks, I've come out here every night, journal in hand.

It's where I write down the day's thoughts, look up into the stars and think about my life.

A lot of nights, I can hear Bey playing her guitar or listening to music in her room. Sometimes I hear her singing.

Sometimes the deep, gravelly sound of her voice makes me ache all over.

Ever since the morning Megan barged in on us—after Bey ignored my obvious invitation to pick up where we left off—I've tried to avoid her.

I've also been thinking about Megan's reaction when she saw us on the bed. Her rage. The hatred on her face.

I'd scrambled back into my clothes as she stood there glaring at us. Then I beat a quick retreat to my room. I figured Bey should deal with her. I seem to set her off just by existing.

But I was still on fire from her touch. So when I heard her in the hallway a little later, I decided to let her know I was ready to continue what we'd started.

I was embarrassed when she pretended not to notice.

And that's when it finally dawned on me that Megan wasn't acting like just an irritated roomie. She was acting like a jealous lover.

Maybe Bey and Megan are a couple, and I've been too clueless to catch on. Maybe Bey has feelings for her.

Or maybe she's just a total douche. Does she bag every girl who moves into the house? Does she have a different girl every weekend?

That's what's been running through my mind the last couple of weeks.

It shouldn't matter to me. Bey and I are not dating. We barely know each other.

I'm pressing the pen into the doodle I've been drawing in the margins of my journal so hard that I tear the page in half.

Sighing, I close the journal with the pen tucked inside and look out into the darkness, feeling the electric static of the coming storm. The cicadas that are usually buzzing in concert have gone silent.

It's been another hot day. At 9 PM, it is still warm.

My phone vibrates, and I grab it as it starts to slide toward the roof's edge.

It's TT, texting a picture of herself with some hot guy. They're entangled on a dorm room bed, each holding up a shot glass, each grinning from ear-to-ear.

"So TT is having a grand old time," I say out loud, wishing yet again I could be more like her.

She just strings guys along, getting exactly what she wants out of them and then moving on to the next one. All while keeping her heart locked up safe and sound.

TT doesn't seem to catch feelings. Not like I do, anyway.

But that's why I need to be careful around Beyonce Knowles. Even if she and Megan are not together, I don't think I can do a casual hookup thing with her.

I already feel too much around her, and we haven't done anything more than make out once. We haven't even spent that much time together.

The problem is I can't stop thinking about her. I can't stop dreaming about her.

I sigh again as my thumbs hover over the phone. I text TT an eyeroll emoji, and she responds with a middle finger. That makes me smile.

I'm still clutching the phone because I want to send another text. To Bey, of course.