Hopeless(25)

His jaw tightens, but his expression never changes. He lowers his arm and takes a step back, allowing me room to breathe again. I don’t understand why anytime he steps within a foot of my personal space, it sucks the breath out of me. I especially don’t understand why I like that feeling.

I tuck my books to my chest and begin to shove past him when an arm goes around my waist and I’m pulled away from Holder. I glance next to me to see Grayson eyeing Holder up and down, his grip tightening around my waist.

“Holder,” Grayson says coldly. “Didn’t know you were coming back.”

Holder doesn’t even acknowledge Grayson. He continues to stare at me for several seconds, only breaking his gaze from mine to look down at Grayson’s hand that’s gripping my waist. He nods his head slightly and smiles, as if he’s come to some sort of realization, then brings his eyes back to mine.

“Well, I’m back,” he says bluntly, without looking directly at Grayson.

What the hell is this? Where did Grayson come from, and why does he have his arm around me like he’s staking claim?

Holder cuts his eyes away from mine and turns around to walk away, but stops abruptly. He spins back around and looks at me. “Track tryouts are Thursday after school,” he says. “Go.”

Then he’s gone.

Too bad Grayson isn’t.

“You busy this Saturday?” Grayson says in my ear, pulling me against him.

I push off his chest and pull my neck away from him. “Stop,” I say, irritated. “I think I made myself pretty clear last weekend.”

I slam my locker shut and walk away, wondering how in the hell I’ve escaped drama my entire life, yet I have enough for an entire book from the last two days alone.





Breckin takes his seat across from me and slides me a soda. “They didn’t have coffee, but I found caffeine.”

I smile. “Thank you very bestest friend in the whole wide world.”

“Don’t thank me, I bought it with evil intentions. I’m using it to bribe you so I can get the dirt on your love life.”

I laugh and open the soda. “Well, you’ll be disappointed, because my love life is nonexistent.”

He opens his own soda and grins. “Oh, I doubt that. Not from the way bad boy has been eyeing you from over there.” He nudges his head to the right.

Holder is three tables down, staring at me. He’s sitting with several guys from the football team that seem excited to have him back. They’re patting him on the back and talking around him, never noticing that he’s not even a part of their conversation. He takes a drink of his water, his eyes keeping their lock on mine. He sets his drink down on the table a little too forcefully, then nudges his head to the right as he stands up. I glance to the right and see the exit to the cafeteria. He’s walking toward it, expecting me to follow him.

“Huh,” I say, more to myself than to Breckin.

“Yeah. Huh. Go see what the hell he wants, then report back to me.”

I take another drink of my soda, then set it on the table. “Yes, sir.”

My body stands up to follow Holder, but I leave my heart at the table. I’m pretty sure it jumped out of my chest as soon as he indicated for me to follow him. I can put up a good front for Breckin all I want, but dammit if I can’t have a little control over my own organs.

Holder is several feet in front of me and when he swings the doors open, they swing shut behind him. I place my hand on the swinging doors when I reach them and hesitate a moment before pushing out into the hallway. I think I’d rather be heading to detention right now than to talk to him. My stomach is tied up in so many knots it could make a boy scout envious.

I look both ways, but I don’t see him. I take a few steps until I get to the edge of the lockers, then round the corner. His back is leaned up against one of them and his knee is bent, his foot propped against the locker behind him. His arms are folded across his chest and he’s looking right at me. The baby blue hue of his eyes isn’t even kind enough to mask the anger behind them.

“Are you dating Grayson?”

I roll my eyes and walk to the lockers opposite him and lean against them. I’m really getting tired of his mood swings already, and I just met the guy. “Does it matter?” I’m curious as to how it’s any of his business. He gives me that silent pause that I’ve noticed comes before almost everything he says.

“He’s an *.”