I grunt. “Peachy.”
He opens his locker, the one right next to mine, and gives me a curious look.
“What’d you do?” he asks.
“What are you talking about?”
He grabs a roll of athletic tape and begins wrapping his wrists. “You look guilty as fuck, man. Where were you before you got here?”
I keep my expression blank. “I think you’ve been watching too manytelenovelaswith Bibiana, E.”
He chuckles. “You got me there, but bro, Señora Acero is savage. That opening scene isa la Game of Thronestwo-thousand thirteen. A wedding. A massacre. You don’t know what you’re missing.”
“I’ll take your word for it.”
He finishes with his wrists and tosses the tape back in his locker. “I still can’t believe you stopped watching at the ten-minute mark.” He shakes his head. “Fifteen more minutes and it would have gotten to the good part.”
“I couldn’t understand anything.”
Emilio scoffs. “Turn on the fucking subtitles. It’s fine.”
I stretch my back and put myself through a short series of stretches as we bullshit a little longer. I know what I’m planning to do once I walk out on the field, but what I don’t know is how to get Emilio and Roman off of it.
* * *
“Hunt,”I shout, ensuring my voice carries across the field. His head jerks up and he looks around, searching for whoever called his name. As soon as he realizes it was me, he jogs his way over, pulling off his helmet once he’s close.
“Yo. What’s up?” He tilts his head in greeting, wiping the sweat from his brow with the back of his arm.
“Kasey Henderson.” I bite out her name.
He smirks, a glint of excitement in his eyes. “She’s fuckingfine,right?” He rocks back on his heels and gives me a knowing look. Like we’re friends or some shit and both in on the same secret.
Until this moment, I had zero issue with Hunt. Thought he was an okay dude with potential, but now… I can’t stand the sight of him and I’m two seconds away from punching him in the face, making sure to leave a mark like he left on Kasey.
But I decide to give him a chance and delay punching him right out of the gate by grabbing him by the jersey instead and shoving him against the chain-link fence that surrounds the field.
He brings his arms up in a vain attempt to stop me, but despite the definition he picked up in high school, I have an easy sixty pounds of muscle on him. He’s still a kid, and he’s not getting away until I’m good and ready to let him go.
“What the fuck, man.” His eyes are wide, and I make sure he gets a good look at the fury riding me. “Is she yours or something? Shit, man. She never mentioned having a boyfriend. So if you’ve got beef, take it up with her.” He stops fighting me, both arms raised in surrender.Idiot.
“She’s seventeen,” I snarl, inches from his face.
“What’s your point? We’re both freshmen. I’m only a year older, probably less than that.”
I shake him before slamming him against the fence harder. I can feel the eyes of the team on me, but no one interferes. The only people dumb enough to try are Roman and Emilio, and I made sure both were occupied in the locker room before tracking Deacon down, and that shit took some maneuvering.
“She’s a fucking minor,” I seethe.
“Bro, lay off. It’s not illegal or anything. How do you even know her?”
Shouting comes from the other side of the field. Fuck. I thought I’d have more time, but I guess I’ll have to make do with what I have.
“Whatever you think is going on between you two, it ends now. When you see her in class you’re going to pretend like you don’t even see her.”
His jaw tightens, and I know he wants to smart off, but he manages to keep his mouth shut. Only the flaring of his nostrils betrays his emotions. Maybe he isn’t that stupid after all.
I drop my hold on him and turn, shouldering past the guys on the team stupid enough to have inched their way closer. Fucking gossips.
