My mouth twists. “I don’t know. Maybe.”
Except I do know. It wasn’t an accident. And while having Hamilton and Tyson at the ready to inflict physical violence on my behalf is nice, one thing is clear.
I need to watch my own back.
Hours later, it’s determined that the fire started in the Home Economics lab. It totally did involve the stoners, only instead of smoking in the bathroom, they were baking weed brownies. Apparently, the brownies sat forgotten in the oven for so long that it halfway burned down the kitchen.
The next day, I open my locker and a piece of paper, folded into a star, falls out. Discreetly, I pick it up and unfold it.
I resisted the other day because I was serious. I want to be with you again.
Come up with a place or I will, not sure if I can hold out much longer.
Heat rushes up my neck and I glance around to see if anyone noticed, which is ridiculous, because I’m still a ghost to most of the school. Even sporting a horrifically bruised nose that’s covered poorly with concealer, eyes still pass over me. A few kids on the swim team have relaxed around me, and obviously there’s Tyson. But as I glance around, I do meet one pair of eyes.
They’re steel gray, dark, and filled with intent.
I head to class, feeling the weight of the note in my pocket like a heady thing. Is this really what we’re doing? No longer falling prey to spontaneous lust, but planning it? Admittedly, the fact that Hamilton wants me so badly is thrilling in the most disturbing of ways. He makes me feel good—he makes me feel—which is something I’ve been afraid to do lately.
I think long and hard about answering, my teacher droning at the front of the class, while my heart beats erratically. Just before the bell, I pull out a piece of paper and scribble my reply. I walk down the hallway, jammed between the influx of students, and try to stay focused on my destination. I can’t help the anxiety building in my chest at the full hallway, memories of what happened the previous day knocking around in my head.
I duck behind a tall freshman, using him as a shield to get close to my target. When I’m finally in the right position, staring at a perfectly pressed pair of pants, and a perfectly sculpted swimmer’s ass, I tuck the note in his back pocket and skitter off, blood pounding in my ears, refusing to look back.
Maybe he’ll find it. Maybe he won’t.
I’ll find out tonight.
The way I see it, there’s risk for both of us.
For me, there’s the humiliation of realizing this is nothing but a well-orchestrated prank. For him, well...
He has to come to Hayden after curfew and find me. He wanted privacy and a bed. I didn’t want him in my room.
Room 216 seemed like a good option.
At least, it did, until now.
I pace the dark room as sweat beads up on my lower back. A sick feeling builds in my stomach and I wring my hands worriedly. What am I doing? Why am I doing this?
The door opens and shuts, the hallway light casting a glow on Hamilton’s handsome profile.
Right. That’s why.
I circle behind his tall frame and lock the door. Turning, I ask, “Did anyone—”
“No,” he breathes, pulling me to him. Our bodies meet before our mouths do, his tongue sliding over my lower lip, prodding me to open my mouth. He tastes of mint, and he doesn’t waste a moment before walking me backwards, across the room, until we’re in front of the bed.
I make a pained sound when our noses push together and he jerks back, hands coming up to cup my face.
“Fuck,” he breathes, licking his lips. “Forgot about this shit. Let me see. You okay?”
“It’s nothing,” I insist, but allow him to look his fill. The bruise is a deep mottled blue that extends under my eyes. “It looks worse than it is, really.” The fact that we can’t risk turning on the overhead light in this room had been a not-insignificant factor in me choosing it. I figure that seeing it in full light isn’t conducive to our goal tonight.
His thumbs raise to gently graze my cheekbones, jaw hardening. “You find out who did this, you tell me.”
“I don’t know who—”
“But if you find out,” he presses, holding my gaze. “I mean it. Someone’s got a kick to the fucking face coming to them.”