They Call Me Cold Hearted

Chapter 21

I lay awake, staring up into the darkness.

It's extremely late, and I imagine that everyone else has been asleep for hours.

I am reviewing everything ever I have done with or around Dylan, trying to figure out why he thinks I thought he was a cat.

I sigh as I think through all the things that happened on the elevator.

The falling, the flirting, the flirting, the flirting.

I sit up straight in my bed and realize exactly what he was talking about.

He thinks I am playing with him, and dangling myself just out of his reach.

"I would never be so cruel!" I say loudly. Then I rethink that sentence. Actually, yes I would, I am crueler than that all the time.

Still, the fact that he thought I was playing him, ridiculous. I totally forgot about that whole thing.

I am angry now, I rip the blankets off of myself and get out of bed, stomp to the door, and throw it open.

I stop as I exit my room. I have no idea where Dylan stays. I look back at my door and see my name printed on it. I shrug and walk down the hall, reading the doors.

Lucy Evans, Huck Baddington, Joe Baring, Kevin Highgler, Dylan Doran.

I practically pounce on the door, I turn the nob, which is locked. I fume.

I kick the door in and see someone sleeping. I stomp over to the pillow, and rip it out from under Dylan's head. He looks up at me.

"Hey!" He says angrily. I hit him as hard as I can with the pillow, not really thinking. "What are you doing?" Dylan yells at me.

"You think I was playing you?" I ask. Dylan frowns.

"Is that what this is about. I thought you figured that out way earlier and just didn't care, being all cold hearted and all." He says. I frown even harder.

"Groupist!" I yell, hitting him in the head again with his pillow. A groupist is basically just a version of racism that has carried on through the years, causing groups to fight against each other.

"Avery, I am not, and stop yelling, you're waking people up." He says. I look at the door and two people are watching. A minute later Christian shoves his way through a large group of spectators.

"What is this all about?" He asks.

"Oh, nothing, Dylan here is just being an idiot!" I hit Dylan with the pillow again. After he recovers he scowls.

"Takes one to know one." He says. I raise the pillow, but Christian grabs it out of my hand. I glare at him.

"Everyone, go away. Except you two, I an going to have a talk with you." He says. I roll my eyes and sit on the end of Dylan's bed.

I notice that we're all in our pajama's. All in a way matching, the same grey color, although each a different material.

"Okay, why are you calling each other idiots, and who started this?" Christian asks once he closes the door.

"Avery is reacting to something I said to her hours ago. And may I say, it isn't rational." Dylan says. I roll my eyes once again. I just fold my arms across my chest and stare at the floor.

"Avery, do you have anything to say?" Christian asks. I look up at him and squint.

"No, but I will say something anyway, Dylan thought I was playing him on purpose because He apparently liked me or something and I didn't care and then I guess I was making him think I liked him back, which I don't, and so then he got all emotional and sentimental and gave me this little figure of speech and I didn't figure it out until like 5 minutes ago and I got mad so I found his room, busted the door down and I would really like to beat him up." I say very quickly. I have no idea how all of this just came out of me, because I don't typically say anything.