HAD IT COMING
Emerson's POV
I should have been in my dorm. Should've had my headphones on, drowning in music, rehearsing my drum solo for the band's gig next week. But no. Here I was, trudging along to Professor Langdon's office, my head still reeling after Ivy's visit.
Cancer. Chemo. The trust fund. What the fuck? What the actual fuck? The only thing that could make this day any worse would be an actual kick to the balls.
I tried to shake it off as i got to her door. I didn't want to go in there angry, I wasn’t pissed at her. The professor was one of the few names on a short list of people that cared about me. I would think of it all later, when i was back in the dorm, hopefully before Adam would bring his sorry self back to my home.
I opened the door, and there he fucking was.
Adam.
Sitting at the desk, pretending he was all business, staring at the professor as if she was offering him the keys to heaven. I suppressed the urge to roll my eyes and hang back, walking over to Langdon's desk.
"Beckett," she said, glancing up with a smile. "Thanks for coming on such short notice."
"Of course. No problem, Professor," I muttered, glancing sidewise at Adam, who was already frowning at me. "What's wrong?"
She took a deep breath. "I need you to tutor Adam."
I gaped at her. Had he recruited her in some sort of prank? Was this being filmed or some thing? "I'm sorry, what?"
"His grades are plummeting dangerously, and he needs help. Please. You're one of my best students."
Oh so this wasn’t some sort of joke. I let out a dry laugh. Well it better turn into one, and soon. "No thanks.”
Adam snorted, had the audacity to make that fucking derisive noise. "Like I asked for this."
"Well, I definitely didn’t," I shot back.
Langdon sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Stop it, both of you. Adam, you need him. Emerson, I’m asking you to please do this. Now, you two, out. Get out of my office and sort this out like the adults you're both supposed to be."
I didn't say anything more, just turned and walked away, not even bothering to see if Adam followed. I was halfway down the hall when, of course, his annoying footsteps got close enough to disturb the little piece of sanity I was trying so hard to cling to.
I groaned, opening the door to my room. No, our room! It was our room now, how wonderful.
I grabbed my drumsticks and jammed my headphones against my ears. Music on. Volume loud. I started to tap away on my bag, my desk, anything I could reach. Let the world just disappear for a minute.
Adam came in a minute later, door slamming behind him, shirt already half-off like he was in some cheesy sports film. He slammed down his bag, rummaged around, and tried— tried — to do his homework.
My sticks' loud slams must have gotten to him because he stood up, frustrated. I saw his mouth move and he must have said something he deemed important. But I didn’t care. I looked away and continued my drumming.
He stalked over and knocked on my shoulder, and I opened one of my ears. "I said — Can you not do that? Its so loud. Either stop playing or go outside."
I pulled off my headphones completely, smiled up at him, and gave him a slow, pointed once-over. "If you’re after quiet, pretty boy, you ought to go find yourself another room."
His jaw worked a big swallow. "Don't call me that."
"Why not? Pretty boy fits.”
"You think you know me? You don't know shit."
“I can take a guess.” I stood, right in front of him. “Big shot quarterback, yes but with falling grades, and who’s daddy's little puppet. You’re all brawn and no brains, but you want to be daddy's pride so bad, don’t you pretty boy?"
His eyes clouded over and it gave me a bit of satisfaction. Yes, I wanted him to feel even a little bit of what I was feeling. He stepped closer, and we were almost chest to chest now. "Say that again, Beckett."
Was that a threat? I wasn't fucking scared of Adam Pierce. "Brawn. No brains. Daddy's disappointment," I repeated, enunciating each word.
He shoved me and I crashed back on the bed. Adam stared at me like he wanted to punch me in the face. Let him, let him fucking try. I’d been looking for a reason to hit someone. I huffed out a dry laugh and lifted myself up on to my elbows. “Touch me again," I snarled, my voice dropping.
"What are you gonna do? Hit me with your drumsticks? Cause that’s all you know how to do them, fucking make noise."
I knew he was just trying to rile me up, but Ivory had just thrown a version of those words around. He really isn’t that good even, he’d said. I knew he'd been looking for a fight, but I hadn’t given it to him.
However, I was more than happy to give it to Adam.
“Careful, pretty boy,” I snarled, “don’t make me shove my fist up your ass and tug on your father’s puppet strings. That would be uncomfortable for both of us, because I know they're so far up in there.”
I saw it, the exact moment Adam decided that yes, indeed, he would punch me in the fucking face. His eyes hardened and, a split second later he climbed onto the bed, pinning me in between his knees and slammed his fist against my face. I groaned, thankful for the bed underneath me as my head bounced against it.
I didn’t think of the pain too much, I just swung my already throbbing head straight into his hard stomach. All the breath left him in a pained grunt, and I pushed him away from me, dragging myself to my feet.
He emitted a laugh devoid of amusement, as he, too, straightened. We glared at each other, chests heaving, my head ringing, him clutching his stomach. “At least I have a father. Yours wants nothing to do with you up till this very moment. He thinks you're defective, a fucking failure, and he’s right.”
“Well I fucking hate him too.”
Adam nodded, and smirked at me as he pushed some hair out of his face. “Maybe I should go say hi to you sister, show her that not all men are as pathetic as you are. I’d do it slowly too, draw it out, all night long.”
I didn’t even realize I'd launched myself at him, until I was colliding with his body. He'd anticipated me and braced for impact but he underestimated me and I still got him to the ground, just way less hurtful that I'd intended. Then the bastard leaned up and bit my shoulder.
I reared back and he used the opportunity to push him off me. We stood panting before he turned
around and left the room. Good fucking riddance.
I hoped he never came back.