Illusory

Chapter 10

"This is just insane," I muttered to myself, running my fingers through my hair in an attempt to rid it of the slippery conditioner I'd just put in, the water running down my body in a warm, soothing way that reminded me of Van. "There's no way he means any of what he says. He's just conf-" I got a mouthful of lukewarm water, then, and had to stop speaking to tilt my head forward and cough and hack and spit until I no longer felt like I was drowning. Slowly, ever so slowly, I was becoming a member of the Ember's-obviously-a-moron-who-should-be-locked-away-in-a-tiny-box camp.

I stopped talking to myself, which I hadn't thought was odd until that moment, and finished rinsing my hair out in silence. He has to be confused, I resumed the conversation in my mind, where I was allowed to talk to myself. People don't just suddenly decide that they like someone. If he was going to like me, he would have started to long before now. I felt like a silly little teenager again. I hadn't had problems like these since I'd graduated from high school. Of course, this is Van we're talking about. I turned the water off and stepped out of the shower, onto the fluffy white rug, where I grabbed a towel from the nearby rack. He's not exactly open with his feelings. But still, wouldn't he have said something by now? I began drying my hair, moving quickly as the chill of the air outside the warm shower began to sink in. Then again, what does he stand to gain by lying about it? Like he said, if all he wanted was sex, he would have gotten it right then and walked away. Instead... "What does that mean, anyway?" I blurted to the empty bathroom. "'You have very nice skin.'" I still didn't get it, and I didn't think I ever would.

It wasn't long before I was dried off, dressed in a tight-fitting, salmon-pink tank top and a pair of equally tight-fitting black shorts, and headed down the stairs. I couldn't just keep muttering to myself. I had to do something. "I don't understand you," I said to Van, glancing through the kitchen door to find him digging around in the fridge. "Is it just you who doesn't make any sense, or is it men in general?" I flopped on the couch, sprawling my body along all three cushions, and snatched my cell phone from where it lay near the edge of the table. I thought I'd set it down closer to the middle, but whatever. I forgot these things a lot, and at least it was closer now.

"What are you doing?" Van asked as he entered the room, a bottle of water in one hand and a banana in the other. I didn't look at him but for what I could see with my peripheral vision.

"Texting my friend Jenna," I answered, typing away at the keypad. "Maybe she'll know if all men are like you or if it's just you."

"Why is Rick's number in your phone?" he asked suddenly, putting his bottle of water and banana down on the table.

I looked up at him now, mouth open in indignant shock. "You went through my phone?" I knew it had been moved!

"I did," he said with a cool nod, as if he'd done nothing wrong, and I jerked into a sitting position on the couch.

"Why?" I asked, nearly shouting. "You have no right —"

"When you start hiding things from me, I have every right," he cut me off, his voice still cool as could be even as his olive-green eyes smoldered.

"We're not dating, Van!" I said as I lurched to my feet, my voice now raised in a full-on shout. "You're not my boyfriend, my brother, or my parent! We work together, for Christ's sake. You have noright, ever, to go through my stuff!"

"Why is his number in your phone?" Van asked slowly, sternly, those fiery eyes narrowing down at me.

"It's none of your damn business, Van," I growled. I wanted to shout some more, wanted to throw the fit from fucking hell right about now, but against Van, acting like a child would get me nowhere. Hell, even acting like an adult wouldn't get me very far, not with him.