“Let go,” Brody says, shaking Dayton off.
Dayton does, but his blue eyes are full of mirth at the whole situation. He looks at you like he’s impressed.
You shrug at him, smile a little. For a second you forget everything you know about him. He’s just another guy in class, trying to make it through high school, laughing when his friend fooled around and found out.
But then you shift to Brody and your smile dies. His face is a storm cloud.
“You okay?” you ask, because you didn’t mean to make him trip. And now you’re hot all over, because you thought it was a game. But if it was, then why does it feel like you’ve lost?
“Whatever.”
He turns, muttering under his breath as he goes to load the bar. His shoulders look broad and triangular and strong as he does it,and you wonder how he manages it, what lifts he does and how many reps, and what his macros are like, but you know you can’t ask him about it now. You lost the chance as soon as you outboxed him.
You just don’t know why.
11DAYTON
Farshid is quiet as you help him rack his weights. He gives you a terse nod and then heads to the locker room without you. While you were working out, you thought maybe he was thawing a little. You’ve spent the last two months sitting right behind him in history, being totally ignored every day. Not to mention run-ins in the hall, or after school. But he never talks. Never even looks at you. A couple of times you saw him turn around and go the other way when he saw you coming, and you’re pretty sure he did it on purpose.
You could understand if he did it for, like, a week afterthe incident, but he keeps doing it. Like he’s convinced you’ll do it again. Like he thinks he knows everything about you based on one word. Six letters. A single mistake you’ve long since apologized for.
You thought being paired up with him might give you the chance to prove you’re cool. And you thought maybe it was working for a moment, when he seemed to relax a bit. Actually speak to you. Give half a smile at Brody’s antics. But then Brody went too far and got all huffy because he didn’t know Farshid could box. Granted, you didn’t, either. Who would’ve guessed? But Farshid was fast and sharp and controlled, and Brody got laughed at.
Brody hates getting laughed at.
His heavy brows are still drawn together as the two of you join the crowd headed to the locker room. The bell’s going to ring soon.
“Good work today,” you say, trying to lighten his mood.
“You too. Keep it up and you’ll stop looking like a breadstick.”
You snort out a laugh. “A breadstick? Cruel.”
Brody cracks a momentary grin, but then he turns dour again. His eyes land on Farshid’s back as he disappears into the locker room.
“Can you believe that little—”
And then he says that word.
“Brody!” You grab his arm. “You can’t say that.”
Brody shrugs you off. “Why? He can’t hear.”
It’s true, Farshid can’t. He’s too far away.
But you can hear it. And you don’t want to.
You never want to hear it again.
“You’re the one who shouted it for the whole class to hear,” Brody reminds you.
“Yeah, and I got in trouble for it. I don’t want you to.”
He just shrugs. “I’ve been in trouble before. I can handle it.”
That’s not the point. Brody’s your friend. You don’twanthim to get in trouble.
And you don’t want people to think he’s a homophobe. You don’t want people to think you are, either, but that ship’s already sailed, and it sucks, because you’re not.
