Where would Trey go?
I knew better than to look for him with his family or back at his room, where anyone might be able to find him. Instead, I thought where I would go if I was King of the school and I wanted to be alone. There were locker rooms on either wing of the school – one to serve the east fields, one for the west. They were using the east field for the match today, so I headed along the west corridor, past the rows of lockers and empty classrooms. I stood outside the locker door and listened.
For a couple of minutes, I heard nothing. Then an odd sound, like a wail. Like a person in pain.
Summoning the courage, I peered around the door, expecting to see one of the showers leaking or something. What I didn’t expect was to see Trey Bloomberg slumped on a bench with his head in his hands and tears streaming down his cheeks.
Chapter Eighteen
Okay, what do I do? I’m staring at the guy who’s made my life hell. I should be dancing around him in triumph. So why do I feel like crawling into the floor?
I could just say nothing and walk away. But that wasn’t my style.
“Hey,” I said.
Trey jumped, turning his body away from the door in an attempt to hide his face. “Fuck off,” he muttered. There was no fight in his voice.
“Is that any way to talk to the only person who’s come to see if you’re okay?” I took a step toward him. “Something happened on the field today.”
“Yeah. Fucking Quinn.” Trey laughed, the sound broken, erratic. He wrung his head in his hands. “I bet you feel fantastic, seeing me like this.”
“Did you feel good when you destroyed my friend’s journal, or when you stuffed my locker full of meat or threw maggots in my food or tarred my hair, or called me and my friends awful names? Did you feel fantastic when you held me over the edge of a cliff? Did that make you feel like a big, awesome person?”
Trey didn’t say anything.
“Quinn didn’t put that powder in your shorts. I did,” I said.Fuck, where did that come from?I hadn’t intended to tell him the truth. Trey’s eyes widened. The corner of his mouth tugged up, and it almost looked like he smiled.
“Damn, Hazy. I underestimated you.”
Hearing Quinn’s nickname for me on Trey’s lips made it seem different somehow, affectionate. I sucked in a deep breath.Am I really doing this?
Guess so.I crossed the room and sat on the edge of the bench. “I thought it would feel good to see you suffer. And it did, for a bit. But your dad is an even bigger bully than you are, and I can’t stand watching anyone be bullied.”
Trey snorted. “I thought maybe this time it would be different, you know? He’d see that I was top of the school, captain of the team. I did everything he asked for, and it wasn’t enough. It will never be enough.”
“You don’t have to measure yourself by his standards.”
“What do you know?” Trey snapped.
“Hey, don’t snap at me, or next time it’ll be you in Old Waldron's bed with your eyes full of itching powder.”
As soon as I said it I wished I could take it back. Anger flashed in Trey’s eyes and I shrunk away, afraid he’d hit me. But he didn’t. He placed his head in his hands and let out a deep, racking sigh.
“I peeked in on him on my way here,” I said. “Courtney was there and she wouldn’t let me in. They’re washing his eyes out and he’ll probably be fine, but he’s in agony. You should go. Convince them to call an ambulance.”
“He won’t want to see me.”
“I bet you’re wrong about that. Assholes like you and Quinn tend to stick together. I noticed you didn’t ask me why I did this. It was because you nearly killed me, in case you were wondering.”
“You said you wanted to die. You’re…” Trey didn’t finish his sentence. His eyes locked on mine, deep pools of cool blue – no ice this time, only glittering gold crystals and deep water.
A tap dripped.
Trey’s lips met mine, hot and hungry. My whole body responded like I’d been plugged into a light socket. My body trembled as fire danced through my veins. His lips were warm and soft, but the kiss itself was frantic, a mash of teeth and tongues. We bled our pain into each other, relishing what we took because it made the other human, vulnerable. Trey’s vulnerability was wild, reckless, desperate for affection, for acceptance. And I gave it to him in this moment, so he would return the favor.
Trey’s hands reached up, digging into my hair. “I feel like I’m kissing a boy with this haircut,” he murmured.
“Are you gay for me, Bloomberg?” I teased him. He responded by kissing me harder, his teeth grazing my lip, arms wrapping around me and drawing me deeper under his spell. I reached up to touch his cheeks, feeling the wetness of his tears as his mouth drew out a roaring fire from inside me.
