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Me:
Don’t even look at me and definitely don’t fucking smile at me. I have lacrosse practice after school so you can find your own way home
I watched out of the corner of my eye as she pulled her phone from her bag, her eyes narrowing as she read the message. The stupid smile was finally wiped from her lips. I waited for her to reply, but she just shoved her phone back in her bag.
What the fuck?
Before I knew it, I was up and out of my seat and crossing the room towards her as she stood there, arms folded across her chest and a taunting gleam in her eye.
Wait a minute. This was her plan, wasn’t it? I’d told her not to speak to me when we were in school, but she was trying to manipulatemeinto speaking toher.
I was almost impressed.
Instead of going up to her, I walked right past her, out of the doors of the common room, down the stone stairs and out into the grounds, uncaring that the rain was falling. Outside, I leaned against the wall, scrubbing my hand across my face and kicking at the golden gravel underneath my shoe. Why was she getting under my skin this way?
The bell rang, reminding me that the school day was starting, but I waited a minute longer before going back inside, regulating my breathing until I had myself under control again.
When I returned, Elena was gone, as were most of the rest of the students, so I grabbed my bag and made my way to the cavernous hall where our house assembly was due to take place. My shoes echoed on the worn flagstones as I made my way up the centre aisle to where Roman had saved me a seat. Prof. Donnelly, our head of house, did nothing but raise a brow at me from behind the lectern, but Roman gave me a scrutinising look as I dropped into the pew next to him.
“Problem, Knox?”
“Nothing I can’t handle,” I clipped out. I’d told him about the girl after I’d spoken to Tristan at the country club, but I’d downplayed it. They didn’t need to know how she was already getting under my skin. As far as they were concerned, she was beneath the attention of us all. The only thing they were pissed off about was the fact that my parents were forcing me to put our plans on hold for the next four weeks. And that was something we could all agree on.
* * *
“What the fuck do you think you’re playing at? The ball goes into the net.”
“No shit, really? Is that what’s supposed to happen?” I turned on Roman, throwing my stick to the grass. “Any other helpful tips you wanna give me, or can we get back to practice?”
He shoved at me but was stopped by the coach, Mr. Saunders, aka Saunders, blowing his whistle loudly.
“Enough! You’re a team, and you will play like a team, or I will have every single one of you doing suicides until you drop!”
There was something in the air today. We were all on edge, and I didn’t fucking like it. Maybe it was the fact that we had an away game against Beaufort on Friday, who were top of the schools’ league, and we needed the win. Maybe there was just something in the air that none of us could explain.
As one of our three attackers, my accuracy skills were expected to be exemplary, and today, they weren’t. I couldn’t fucking believe I’d missed the goal from my position—a shot I’d made a hundred times before and could do with my eyes closed.
Saunders ordered us to take our positions again, and I got into position behind Tristan, midfielder and our captain, ready to catch the ball to take a shot. I’d barely lifted my stick when he was blowing the whistle again. “Bellingham!” he roared, the veins bulging in his neck. “You’re a defender—fucking act like it!”
Lincoln Bellingham climbed to his feet, brushing grass from his knees. “Sorry, sir,” he said, grimacing at Saunders. I noticed Roman glaring at him, and I nudged him with my elbow.
“Not just me who’s off my game today, huh? Link’s fucking up too.”
“You’re a fucking liability,” he hissed, spinning away from me and stalking off, leaving me staring after him.
Fuck. What was going on with everyone today?
After the torturous practice finally ended, I ripped off my helmet and gloves, stalking into the changing rooms to shower the mud and sweat from my skin. As I headed back outside, I was stopped by Saunders before I could escape to the student car park.
“Ashcroft. Got a minute?”
“Yep.” It wasn’t like I could give him another answer.
He folded his arms across his chest. “Your playing isn’t up to standard. You’re better than this. I want you to stay behind after school every day this week. We’ll work on your catches and bounce shots. I want you game ready for Friday.”
“Fine.” When he didn’t reply, I assumed the conversation was over and walked away.
The second I reached the car park and saw the figure leaning against the passenger door of my SUV, my jaw clenched. I stalked over to my Maserati and came to a stop right in front of Elena, so close that the edges of her blazer brushed against mine.
