His grin softened. Real, quick, gone again — but I saw it. The kind of smile they didn’t see on their media packets. The kind of smile that belonged to Dante.
To me.
He let go of me finally, and he and Beau walked away, with every camera phone still tracking him, but some still pointed at me. My fingers felt empty, cold, and very, very exposed.
“So it begins,” Noah murmured, looking around. “You okay, Savvy?”
I nodded. “Yeah, guess everyone knows now,” I tried to joke.
“Yup,” Dustin agreed. “Looks like you two just made it official.” Dustin’s voice was quiet as he surreptitiously looked around.
“I—” My throat locked. Words refused to line up, so I settled for a shake of my head. It wasn’t denial, not really. “He’s not known for his patience.”
Noah’s lips twitched, like he was fighting a smile. “Yeah, welcome to Spence’s world.”
Dustin just shook his head, muttering something under his breath that I didn’t catch.
I couldn’t stop myself from glancing across the quad, from watching as Dante walked alongside Beau, and even from here, I could tell he was pissed off, just by the set of his broad shoulders.
I looked around at those trying not to openly stare and wondered if they could see how uncomfortable he was. Or if all they saw was the face of the program.
“I’m heading to the shed,” I told them, wondering if they knew how freeing it was to be able to say that out loud and not fear the consequences. “See you guys later?”
We said our goodbyes, and I walked away, as the quad kept buzzing behind me, but I didn’t stop to see who was still staring. By the time I cut down the back path toward the arts building, I was glad this was my place where the world didn’t follow me.
I closed the door, leaned back against it, and dragged in a shaky breath. My fingers still felt the ghost of Dante’s grip. My stomach still churned at wondering what an alumnus wanted from Dante.
He’d told us about his coach, hisothercoach, giving him shit Monday morning. But the three of them had done their part — followed their training and said nothing — though I know it was simmering in Dante, and I don’t think any of us were going to be ready for the explosion when it came.
I hated that I knew this festering secret that bubbled under the polish of this fuckingprestigiousschool. Prestigious my ass. It was a cesspit.
Dad thought that since the corruption was in the athletics department, it wouldn’t matter to the rest of the school. He’d keep his precious academics separate. But it wouldn’t be. Every graduate from this school would be tainted the same way. Did we succeed on our own merits, or through grade altering and under-the-table payments?
It made me feel sick. But feeling sick wouldn’t fix anything, and in the grand scheme of it all, how the heck wasIsupposed to fix anything?
I shoved my hair back, pulled on my gloves, and slid my goggles into place. Work. That was the cure. Lose myself in the hiss of the torch, the spark and grind of reshaping something broken.
But even as the flame caught, the glass glowed, and my hands moved in practiced precision, my head wouldn’t stop.
I’d seen Dante in every mask he wore — golden boy for the boosters, cocky bastard in the library, relentless quarterback on the field.
Then there was the one from today. The one who looked straight at me, took my hand in front of everyone, and didn’t flinch. Real. Not hiding behind a mask.
The smile spread over my face as I worked. I felt the tension leave my shoulders and let myself enjoy the fact that I was a girl who was falling in love with her guy.
Wasn’t that part of college?
My dad should’ve been pleased I was getting a full experience. I actually laughed out loud at my own sass.
“I haven’t heard you laugh in here for a while.”
I looked up at Professor Yates in surprise. “Hi?” I looked past him at the door. “I thought I locked it.”
“I missed you at the art show last Thursday. Your father said you were... sick.” Professor Yates closed the door behind him and then turned to me. “I would have expected you to tell me that.”
“I...” I put my tools down and turned things off. “Yeah, I’m sad I missed it.” I really was, but me and my dad in the same room that night? After what happened the day before? That wasn’t going to happen.
He walked forward slowly, his hands in his pants pockets, his blazer pushed up in a way that made his jacket look too small.
