Burn Before Reading(72)

“What? Are you two the only ones who can enjoy your own flirting? I happen to be starving for entertainment at all times!” Fitz announces. Burn rolls his eyes and takes Fitz by the elbow.

“We’ll be in the stands,” He says. Fitz complains the whole way as he’s dragged back to his seat. Bee huffs.

“Fitz said not to expect much from you.”

“Did he?” I ask, hating how my voice cracks.

“Apparently you don’t win anything. Um. Ever.”

“I felt like winning today,” I say. She laughs quietly.

“Just a bit.”

People pass us, my team among them, and suddenly Bee stumbles. Her foot slips on the wet cement, and she goes tumbling towards the water. In what feels like slow-motion, I reach my hand out for her, grabbing the biggest part of her I can find – her waist - and yanking her to me. We’re pressed, chest to chest, for a bare moment, our breathing hard and in sync. She’s so close I can smell her; cream and vanilla.

“Thanks,” She says breathlessly. “But I’m starting to hate this habit of yours where you save me from stuff.”

We part quickly – too quickly. My hands are shaking, the terror of holding someone so close kicking in. I ball my fists so she can’t see them.

“What happened?” I ask.

“I think –” She looks around. “I think someone pushed me.”

I glare in the direction of my team, all of whom are watching us closely. They look away when I look at them, and that confirms their guilt. Most of it, anyway.

“It’s my team,” I admit. “They’re being assholes.”

“Why?”

“Because I punched one of the seniors.”

“Uh, wh-”

“If you ask why again –”

“Okay, okay,” She laughs shakily. “I get it. You probably had a good reason to.”

“How do you figure that?”

She shrugs. “You had a good reason about red-carding Eric, so. I’ve learned to stop automatically thinking everything you do is for your own gain.”

“What about Fitz? I punched him at the party.”

“Well he was sort of…making things really awkward. Between us. Uh, inferring things wrong. I’m not gonna say I was glad you two scrapped, but I got pretty uncomfortable towards the end, there.”

“It makes you uncomfortable?” I knit my brows. She laughs again.

“Yeah. When people try to – to set you up with someone, you know? Especially if those people don’t like each other at all.”

“Like each other at all,” I echo, my chest deflating. “Right.”

“Ho-lee shit. Is that who I think it is?”

The voice freezes me in my tracks. I turn my head slowly, so slowly, as a brown-haired boy with glasses and a plaid shirt walks up. His face is a little older, a little more mature, a little fuller, but I remember it all the same. I remember it with searing clarity. I memorized that face when it slept, when it talked, when it smiled. When it got angry.

It can’t be him.

With every step he takes towards me I feel like puking, like running away. It’s him.

He can’t be here, but it’s him.

“Mark,” I breathe. Bee’s eyes go wide.

“That’s Mark?”

“I heard the Lakecrest swim team was competing, but I had no idea you were still on it, Wolf. I’m just here to cheer for my brother on his new team. Redtree High, you know?” Mark smiles at me. I avoid his eyes until he looks away. Burn and Fitz are in the stands, arguing with each other. They haven’t seen him yet. If he doesn’t leave, they’ll lash out. And it won’t be pretty.

If he doesn’t leave, I’ll shatter. And it won’t be pretty.

When I don’t respond, Mark looks Bee up and down.

“And who’s your lady friend? She’s cute, if you like the mousy type.”

Bee scowls. “Weird. It’s almost like I’m standing right here, or something.”

Mark laughs. “Oh, I’m sorry. That was rude of me. I’m Mark. Wolf’s friend. Ex-friend, if we’re being completely honest. And you are?”

“None of your business,” I say through gritted teeth. Mark shoots me a surprised look.

“Whoa whoa whoa, let the lady speak for herself.” He reaches out an arm to put around her shoulder, but my body moves on instinct. I put myself between her and him, willing my shoulders to stop shaking, willing myself to look him in the eyes, just this once.

I can’t be afraid anymore.

Not when he’s inches away from her.

“Back. Off.” I manage. Mark blinks a few times, bewildered, then he’s all smiles again. Just like that. Bouncing. Always bouncing between moods on the outside, compensating for the dead wasteland of his insides.

“You haven’t changed at all,” Mark smirks up at me. “Still pretending to be tough, huh?”

“If there’s nothing more,” Bee clears her throat. “You should go, Mark.”

“Oh there’s more, hotstuff.” Mark smiles at her. “Don’t tell me he’s roped you in with his pretty boy face. You know he’s a faggot, right? Gay. A huge fucking faggot who likes dicks - ”