Battlefield: Control (Book Two)

Chapter Twenty-Five - Orlando

Orlando made sure to stick close to Nia during his free time. She made good Tait-repellent at school.

He'd gotten a text from his girlfriend while he'd been out with Angela. And ignored it.

She called him the next afternoon and he ignored that as well.

Monday she was smart and kept her distance. Tuesday through Thursday she tried to engage him by smiling or saying hi. He'd say hello back, but that was the only word he'd speak.

Was it mature of him to give her the cold shoulder? No, and he knew he'd have to suck it up and talk with her eventually.

That day didn't have to be today.

"While I like that you're deciding to loosen up and expand your social horizons more, I also can't help but wonder what's up," Nia said at lunch.

"A directional coordinate that usually indicates North," he mumbled as he poked at a sandwich he'd made at home.

She scowled. "Huh?"

"Up? You asked what it was?"

"You think you're so clever. Fine, whatever, I don't really care anyway. More curious than anything, but maybe I should just assume it means you've finally noticed how wonderful and charming I actually am."

"Yup and you're definitely more fun than a barrel full of monkeys."

"Aw shucks, you're so sweet." She tweaked his cheek gently and took a big bite of her meatball sub sandwich. Some of the barbecue sauce dribbled down her chin and she gracefully licked it off without a second thought.

He shrugged and watched as Tait walked through the cafeteria toward him. A quiet groan escaped his lips.

Nia glanced over her shoulder and winced. "I'm gonna take this to go because I have a feeling you want this to be private. Unless you want me to beat her up for you?"

"I don't know, she's feisty."

"So am I." She stood up, taking her food away from the table—but not before glaring at Tait as she walked away.

Tait hesitantly sat across from him. She didn't have any food with her, just her things for class. "I get that I messed up. Can we please talk more than a handful of words? I don't like you not speaking to me."

"There's this phrase I was taught: if you don't have anything nice to say, then you shouldn't say anything at all." He pushed his lunch away, suddenly having no appetite.

"I shouldn't have blown you off."

"Again."

"...Again."

"You promised you'd be there," he said, letting his anger pour out.

There was so much he wanted to say, to confront her with, but he wasn't allowed to. She didn't know he knew about her alter ego, but he had enough personal anger toward her that he could justify his feelings.

"I know, and—"

"You promised you'd be there," he repeated.

"Yeah, and I get it—"

"No, I don't think you do. If you promise something, you need to follow through with it, otherwise you're no better than my parents. They promise me a lot of things. Like how they'll come home and see me. How they're almost done working and they'll be back for good. Promises, lots of them. All of which are unfulfilled," he snapped.

"I know they've left you, but I'm not—"

Orlando held up a hand to silence her. "You are doing exactly what they do. It's all empty. It's all I've known for half of my life. I used to be like them too and it cost me the life of my best friend. He killed himself because I fed him the same kind of lies. Constantly. I didn't know it was wrong until it was too late. Now tell me why I would want to be in love with a girl who does the same thing?" He took a deep breath, glad to have at least some of it off his chest.