“When I tell you how to do something, you need to do it,” he declares, his voice harsh.
“You didn’t tell us we couldn’t sprint. Matter of fact, if I recall, you said you didn’t care what we did so long as we do our workout and stayed out of your way. Remember?”
He huffs a laugh, revealing straight, pearly teeth, but nothing about his laugh is humorous. “What is this, Lakes? Huh? Suddenly you’re not listening to your coach? You’re becoming rebellious now?”
“I’m not becoming anything,” I counter.
He steps forward, scratching at his eyebrow. “Is this about Saturday night?” His voice is lower.
I fold my arms. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“The boat ride. Your lips on mine. Your tongue in my mouth. Is this about that?”
I avoid his eyes, but I don’t miss the way my belly seems to sink at the sheer reminder of it. It doesn’t help that his voice has a guttural edge to it.
“You want my attention and now you got it, so speak,” he orders.
I work hard to swallow as he takes another step forward, pressing his lips, waiting for a response.
“You haven’t said anything about it,” I whisper, finally looking up at him.
“What is there to say, Amber? What happened was not supposed to happen. You and I both know that.”
“So why didn’t you stop me before it went too far?”
He doesn’t respond. Instead, he looks away.
I take a step closer to him. “H-how am I supposed to practice around you after that?”
“Simple. Pretend it didn’t happen.” His words are cut-and-dry and I swear it feels like my lungs have collapsed.
Someone walks past us, one of the basketball players, and Torres takes a step sideways and folds his arms. Luckily for us, the basketball player is too invested in whatever is on the screen of his phone to pay us any attention.
“So that’s what you’re going to do? Pretend it didn’t happen?” I ask.
“That’s what I have to do. Not just for me, but for you too. Don’t think about it. Let it go.”
“It was a mistake, right?” I ask, and damn my voice for cracking. I don’t want him to know that it mattered to me, that for once I felt important and seen by someone since coming to this damn college.
Torres folds his arms and lowers his head.
I sigh, then bite into my bottom lip with a nod. “Okay. Yeah, you know what? You’re right. I won’t think about it. I’ll let it go. I’ll do exactly what you’re doing right now and not give a damn about it.” I walk past him, shaking my head. “That’s what you do best, right? Not give a damn about anyone else but yourself?”
I don’t even wait for him to say anything. I jog back to the indoor track and don’t bother looking back, no matter how badly I want to see the look on his face.
TWENTY-FIVE
I can’t focus at all in psychology, and it doesn’t help that Stephen decides to sit beside me today.
Of course, it’s not because of him I can’t focus. I’m over the thing with him and the carnival.
I can’t focus because of the conversation I had with Torres yesterday. Of course, he doesn’t care. He could be fired because of what we did.
If I was the kind of student to brag about the kiss, he’d already be gone because if rumors about me lying over Melanie spread like wildfire, imagine a rumor about me fooling around with my coach.
Fortunately, I’m not that kind of student, and truth be told, I don’t want Torres gone anytime soon. I want him to see me. I want him to know that the girl he kissed on that unsteady boat is still around and isn’t going anywhere.
He can pretend all he wants that he doesn’t care, but I do. I care a lot about what happened. Hell, it still blows my mind that it even did.
When class is over, I pack up and Stephen remains seated beside me while everyone else shuffles about to leave the auditorium. “So…are you going to say anything to me?” he asks, tapping his pen on the edge of the desk.
I glance at him. He’s smiling. It’s just like him to smile right now. He doesn’t give a shit that he’s a player. He thinks every girl is supposed to fall to their knees for him.
I stand up and sling the strap of my bag over my shoulder. “I’m just not in a good mood lately.”
He tucks his pen behind his ear and stands with me, catching my arm before I can turn away. “Woah—Amber, wait. What’s wrong?”
I shrug, avoiding his green eyes.
“Is it because people are saying you hit Melanie?”
I frown. “What? That I hit Melanie?”
“Well…yeah. There’s this stupid rumor going around that you were in the café and you got aggressive with her or something.”