Zenon's Game Chapter 77

Great – when one question answers itself, another one opens: Jamie question closed. The 'what did she do to me' question open.

And I felt guilty. I jumped to conclusions about Zenon. I expected the worst... when he only expects the best from me.

"She and Bianca were concocting some plan to embarrass you, but I've already spoken to Bianca and it's taken care of," he said as if he could read my mind, "Nothing's going to happen to you. The girls are backing off."

I itched my nose. Honestly, I was over this. I didn't ask him what they were planning because I wasn't into it.

Zenon leaned towards me and lifted my chin so he could see my eyes, "I would never do that to you, Candace."

I smiled, feeling his soft and warm touch on my skin.

The seconds passed by and not a sound pierced the silence in the basketball court. We were isolated from the world.

Finally, I sighed, "What is it about you that drives girls crazy?"

He laughed and waved the question away. He stood up, extended his hand and I finally took it.

"No seriously," I said, as he pulled me to my feet, "They turn into demons."

He replied, "I want you to be crazy about me."

He said those words like they were no big deal. Like he'd been thinking it for a while now. And not like they'd create flutters in my chest and below.

I didn't come here for this. "Zenon-"

"Candace, please don't say those words," he begged me, "Not tonight. I know I've done some things that you don't approve of, but I've never done anything against you. I was an assh*le when I met you and I regret that. I can't lose you now."

He looked down, unable to face me properly. I didn't understand.

"You see me for me," he spoke quietly, "You believe in me."

"Zenon, our whole town believes in you. Everyone adores you."

"No," he shook his head, "They're focused on the superficial things. None of that matters. You believe that I can be a good person. A better person than my father was. I remember every time you put me in my place, and I thank you for it."

"You don't have to thank me," I whispered.

Zenon has done more for me this semester than anyone I could have ever dreamt of. Of all people in this school, how can the handsome athlete be the one to take care of a nobody? He gave me a lot of bullsh*t along the way, but ultimately, he was there for me.

How did someone like me and someone like him ever connect this way?

"I want you to knowthat I'm telling the truth," he continued, "When you asked me why I never invited you home before, I lied. The truth is I didn't want you to meet my family because I'm scared you'll see a part of me you don't like. My family..."

"I won't think of your family. I know they love you, but you are your own person with your own destiny. And I know you."

He nodded, but he didn't say anymore. I didn't want to pry into his family life. All I knew is what Jake had told me; that Mr Albert was married to his mother before he cheated on her. Both women became pregnant and Mr Albert left Jake's mother for the other woman... Zenon's mother.

"Are you going to give me a sign?" he asked, his eyes lighting up an electric blue.

I saw specks of gray darting in his eyes, dancing across them. His mischievous nature was back.

"What do you mean a sign?" I laughed.

"A sign that you like me," he answered simply, "You're like a statue, Candace. I can't read you."

Oh wow.

His smile broadened and my lips couldn't find the words to speak.

Stepping close to me, he whispered, "I know you get shivers every time I touch you."

His fingers lightly brushed my arm and, as if by reflex, sending shivers tingling through my spine.

Damn he must be smug about that.

"And I know how uncomfortable you get whenever I take my shirt off," he continued.

I gasped, "You're not going to-"

"Cool down Mills. We're not in a magic mike movie."

"Could've fooled me," I muttered. My cheeks were blushing, and I wanted to fan myself to cool down.

"Aside from our chemistry," he said, "I want to know if there's a deeper part of you that likes me."

"That's a really big question," I answered.

"OK," he accepted, "How about this? You miss a shot and you answer a question."

He raised a basketball in his left hand and casually twirled it in the air. I stared at him.

He threw the ball at me lightly, and I couldn't catch it. I fumbled and the ball went between my legs. I chased after it and, when I finally returned with ball in hand, I said, "No, no. If I get the ball in, I'll answer a question."

AKA, never buddy.