I don’t think she likes it.
It’s like watching an action movie with how she transforms, going from soft, wide eyes to an evil villain who could cut me with her glare.
“I got you something.” I grind my teeth together. Why does she have to keep looking at me like that?
I fumble with the gift for a moment, gnawing on the inside of my mouth.She’s going to like it—shehasto like it.Once she holds it in her hands, she’ll never want to let go. She just—Come on, Kohen.I need to be quick before she runs back into the house. Or worse—she tells her parents, and they tellmyparents, and I can never see her again. I’ve heard them say how much they hate her parents even though they keep mentioning the mansions her grandfather has. If her parents kick me out, how will I give her this so she doesn’t keep hurting her arms?
Her wide eyes stay fixed on me. My chest expands, and all my worries melt away.See, she likes it.Instead of coming forward, she takes a step back. Then one more. And another. She casts a quick glance at the baseball bat in my hand, and sprints toward the house.
“Blaze!” My sneakers pound against the forest floor as I weave between rocks and jump over exposed tree roots. I have to hug my backpack and lift the bat in the air so it doesn’t hit the ground and wreck the words I’ve engraved on it.
She almost trips over her feet as she looks back at me, but she rights herself too fast for me to catch up. “Leave me alone!” Her shrill voice echoes against the muffled music.
“Stop!” Blaze breaks through the tree line and into the yard wherethe firepit has died down. I push myself harder, running faster than I’ve ever run before. “Come back!”
I keep running, watching as she leaps over the man sleeping on the grass, clambers up the steps, and quickly dives into her house, disappearing out of reach. “No! Get back here!”
Stopping short by the last tree—before I get too close to the house and the man—I hunch over and heave in lungfuls of air, searching each window for signs of her. I stumble back to the tree line, hiding behind the thick trunks in case she rats on me. When no one comes out after what feels like hours—but is probably only a few minutes—I dash from tree to tree around her house. It doesn’t matter how many times I circle the house; I don’t catch even the slightest glimpse of red hair.
She hates my gift.
She hatesme.
Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.
Kiervan would’ve known what to do. He would have picked the right gift, and she wouldn’t have run from him.
Each time I hear footsteps, I hold my breath, hoping it’s her. But it’s not. It never is. People come in and out of the house, barely able to walk, laughing or grunting, even if they’re the only ones around. One person comes out to throw things into the fire, then hobbles back inside.
By the time I move from my hiding spot behind the trees, the sky is navy blue. The only light left outside comes from the moon that’s hidden behind blankets of clouds, and the fire that’s slowly dying.
The bat shakes in my hand as I run my fingers over the words one last time before I drop it into the fire. There are only eleven letters, but I took the time to measure each and every one of them properly so they span the entire bat.
BLAZE & KOHEN
Present
“Asshole.”
Both a noun and an unofficial adjective—such a versatile word. Just likecunt. For example, Kohen Osman is a psychopathic cunt.
Those are the two words that immediately come to mind when I see him leaning against the tree, carving into his lighter with a switchblade.
Kohen Osman doesn’t necessarily look like an asshole, but he’s the biggest one in this city.
“Klepto.” The aforesaid bane of my existence pushes off the tree and pockets his switchblade into his uniform, taking up the entire footpath with his unwanted presence.
“Fuck off, Pyro.”
My head is pounding, and I’m two minutes away from turning my teeth to dust. His company is makingmy hangover worse.
Kohen always hangs around the school corner, leaning against a tree on a street I have no choice but to take. The only other option would mean adding an extra ten minutes to my forty-five-minute walk home. I figured I’d rather deal with the human embodiment of a cold sore than endure ten more minutes of this freezing weather.
I keep shuffling along. Paying no attention to the asshole by my side, I quickly check my phone to see if my granddad has decided to transfer money to fix my bedroom window after one of Dad’s friends threw a rock at it two nights ago.
Nothing.
Great.My T-shirt taped to the window frame isn’t exactly keeping the winter chill out.
