Burn Before Reading(25)



"Mr. Francis doesn't have only one parent who works," He countered brusquely. "Just take the money."

Anger welled up beneath my cheeks. "You think you know everything about my life? I don't need your stupid twenty, okay? My mom does fine, I'm doing fine, my dad's fine, we're all just fine, okay? We might not be swimming in it, but we know how to save and be smart with our money. We don't waste it on things like - like expensive cars or restaurants or random girls who we feel sorry for!"

My shouting made the other boys on the team look at us, muttering to each other. Even the lady coach frowned at me. I felt hot and itchy all over, just like in the crowd that one morning. I'd do anything to not be there at that very second. If I could teleport to the top of a mountain, or a serene meadow, or hell, even the parking lot of the 7-11 near my house - something, anything. Anywhere away from his moment and Wolf's fire-laced eyes. He looked almost...shocked, the usual irritation in his hawk-like brows going slack. My eyes caught on his broad shoulders, his sharp collarbone, his prominent jaw. This was the shape of him - of a guy who could never understand my situation. Not in a million years. But he pretended to, like it would earn him brownie points for being a 'good guy'. I was sick of him. I was sick of everyone telling me he was secretly a good guy. He wasn't. He never would be. Not to me, anyway.

Some distracted, stupid part of me looked at his skin again, the deep olive of it. It was a shame, that part thought, that he couldn't stand being touched by someone else. He had a beautiful body. Did he really have a phobia? Someone as outwardly put-together as him? How could he have a phobia, when the first day we interacted he came so close to me I could smell him? Was it a lie? Was Mr. Blackthorn simply adding an extra layer of caution around his son -

My fingers were suddenly inches away from the side of Wolf's cheek, the tips of them sensing the heat coming off his skin. I wanted to finish the movement, to touch him, but logic screamed at me. What the hell was I doing? How the hell did my fingers get there? I pulled my hand back, Wolf flinching away from me at the same time. What the flying fuck was I doing?

"I-I'm sorry. I - I have to go." I spit the words out in a jumble, and dashed for the door. The smell of fresh air threw my every word and action in the pool building into stark reality. Shit, shit, shit! What had I done? I acted like a complete weirdo - there's no way I could ever look him in the eyes again, right? This was it - I had to move to China, Japan, Malaysia; as far away from the Blackthorn boys and this stupid school as I could. Everyone in that building saw me reach for him - he saw me - I saw me and I can't get the image out of my head. I replay it over and over, like some hideously embarrassing movie reel.

My drive home is a white-knuckled blur of terror and disgust at myself. I half-move through the motions of checking on Dad, making sure he's eaten, taken his pills, making sure dinner is getting started, making sure my homework is caught up, making sure I don't ever, ever look Wolf Blackthorn's way ever again for as long as I live.





Chapter 7


WOLF


Everything feels so far away.

The sound of the pool water lapping against the sides fades. The echo of Coach’s yelling fades.

I watch Beatrix leave, and trace the red-hot marks her fingertips left on my cheek. My skin crawls with goosebumps, my nerves standing on end with some invisible electricity.

What the hell is wrong with me? Am I having a stroke? The doors open and close behind her and all I can think about is how I want more of her touch. More of her eyes lingering over my ridges and lines. Just…more of her. Period.

Frustrated, I growl and shove the twenty dollar bill into my backpack.

“Where do you think you’re going, Blackthorn?” Coach shouts. “Get back in the pool!”

I’m so distracted I hear her, but don’t process any of her words. She blows her whistle in my ear and I start.

“Jesus, coach –”

“I thought I told you to tell your girlfriends to stay away from the pool while we’re practicing,” She snaps. “And you said you had it taken care of. Don’t tell me I’m gonna have that hassle again – you could barely get in here with all of them crowding the door.”

“No, it’s not like that.”

Coach eyes me up and down. “Alright. Then get back in the pool and let’s burn a few laps.”

I head to the edge of the pool. My teammates stare at me from the benches they perch on, half-soggy and sipping Gatorade. They murmur to each other, elbowing one another like they’re all sharing some secret. Jason, the steroid-abusing freshman, whispers the most earnestly out of them all. Of course he does. He’d love to start a nasty rumor about me as payback for dumping coffee on him. He’d love to do anything to get back in the good graces of the team and the school. And even though the team’s shunned him up until now because of his red-card, they start to listen to him. I direct my glare right at them, daring any of them to say something. And of course, there’s always one guy stupid enough to dare. A senior who loves to give me shit whenever he can.

“So,” He treads water beside me. “You and the scholarship girl, huh?”

“Don’t,” I warn.

“Don’t what?” He smiles. “C’mon, man, you can tell me. We’re a team. Shit, I wouldn’t blame you for tapping that – she’s a little frumpy, but if you look real hard you can tell she’s got some amazing tits under all that. I’d do her too. Just once, though, and then dump her on the curb.”

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