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Gage squinted at Tristan. “You sure you’re good?”
“Yeah. Fuck off.”
As much as I hated doing it, I turned my chair to face Tristan. “Thank you. I think.”
Tristan didn’t seem to hear me. He was looking at the scattered remains of my camera like he was searching for something. Finally, he knelt down and picked up a piece, stuffing it in his pocket.
“You probably shouldn’t take any of that.” I gestured to the debris. “They might need it to do repairs or something.”
“It’s trashed.”
I swallowed. People were still gathered around, watching to see if there was any more drama to unfold. I felt beyond self-conscious with so many eyes on me, especially now that I was starting to recognize some of the kids. I wondered what they thought of me now.
As if a thought occurred to him, Tristan turned, then crouched down so we were face to face. His voice was a low whisper. “You’re mine to torment, Wheels. Not his. Not anyone else’s. Mine.”
A shiver ran through me. I watched Tristan walk away and the crowd dispersed.
Of course, he’d said that. People were toys to Tristan. Not living, breathing things. He used them when it suited him and tossed them aside when he was done. And even if all his twisted words were some thickly veiled form of affection—I knew the most he could ever want from me in that way would be to use me. He’d use my body, my mind, my mouth—whatever he craved at the moment, and then like everyone else in my life but my mom, he’d see I was a burden and cast me away.
I noticed Marne still watching me from the quickly dispersing crowd.
I smiled at her. “Does that camouflage of yours work on people?” I asked.
She frowned. “Of course, it does. But not in a school courtyard. Have you ever hunted?”
No, I thought. But I’m beginning to learn quite a bit about being hunted.12TristanAfter practice, I spotted Wheels on the track with a notebook and pencil in her lap. I walked over to her, ignoring the way the guys were staring. It looked like she wanted to turn and roll away as fast as she could, but she set her jaw and stared back at me.
Feisty, as always.
“What’s your plan? Write me a recruitment essay?”
“I was just making some notes. I wanted to figure out the strengths and weaknesses of your game so we could highlight them in the video.”
“Right. Because you know shit about football?”
“You prefer throwing to your left. You lick your fingers a million times every time it’s a passing play, and you wipe your hands on your pants when you’re going to hand it off. Oh, and you really suck at that one play where you’re supposed to throw it over the tall guys in front of you, so you have to kind of jump.”
I stared.
Wheels wiggled her eyebrows, then smiled to herself. “I don’t know anything about football, but patterns of behavior and the obvious stuff? That, I can figure out.”
I’d never admit it to her, but I made a mental note of everything she just said and planned to fix it as soon as possible. “Let’s assume you’re even close to correct. How does any of that help you with a recruitment video?”
“It doesn’t, but it was fun seeing the look on your face when you realized I was right.”
I looked back toward my teammates, who were making no secret of watching me talk to her. Much longer, and they’d start more rumors than they already had.
“You’ve got no camera, Wheels. Last time I checked, I had to help you with a video. No camera, no video. That means I don’t have to deal with you anymore.”
She didn’t look so smug now. “I’m working on that.”
I left her there and headed for the locker room. After we showered up, everyone was shoving their shit into bags for the weekend to take home and wash. Most of the guys still just wore towels wrapped around their waists as they bullshitted and stood around their lockers.
Cassian leaned on the locker beside mine. “Nice lip.”
“Want one just like it? Stay in my fucking face and I’ll be happy to give it to you.”
Coach swung his flimsy office door open, making it clatter loudly when it slammed into the wall. “Hey!” He pushed his way through our teammates until he was standing between Cassian and I, who both stood a few inches above him.
“I don’t give a flying greased pig fuck if you two like each other. But I do care about winning state.” He lowered his voice, scowling. “And I already pulled a big ass favor not getting the two of you suspended for your little scuffle in the courtyard today. So unless you want to be riding the bench for the rest of the season, I suggest you learn to get the fuck over it. Am I being clear?”
