by Eden Beck
And then, despite everything, halfway through the game something suddenly clicks. I don’t play sports. I’m not athletic. But suddenly, out on the cold field with the sun barely trickling down through the clouds, with most of our school watching, I figure it out.
Just for a moment.
Oh, I think. Catch the ball.
And I do. Suddenly, I’m paying attention. Not only do I catch the ball, but I throw it to Beck and he makes a spectacular goal. This time, when he passes by me, he doesn’t elbow me out of the way.
Beck and Jasper, still midfield, haven’t been throwing things to me. I’ve just been the person to hold the ball if the other two attackers are busy. But now they’re throwing me things. I’m catching them. Our team is making goals. The crowd is cheering.
And for the first time, I’m a part of it all … and I’m doing well.
The whistle blows for some sort of break, and the coach tells me I have to go midfield now. I’m dazed and can’t speak, so I just nod. Beck and Jasper shoot me strange looks but don’t say anything as I trot out to midfield. Do they know about Heath? Do they realize where he is, what he’s doing?
The game starts up again, and any thoughts of Heath disappear in the drip of sweat and the mingling of hot breath. Midfielders have the ability to go all over the field, meaning I’m doing a lot more running. But I’m smaller than the other guys. I’m a little more agile.
What’s the score? I don’t know. I have a job to do, and I do it mechanically without thinking of the context. I catch the ball. I throw it to the attackers. I run around. I throw a ball into the goal. The goalie blocks it. Everything just feels like a list of incidents happening to someone else, and I’m watching my own body do the movements from afar.
One of the enemy team’s defenders throws the ball to an enemy midfielder. I’m near him, so I run over and catch it before he can. And then I run toward the goal.
People are shouting, but I’ve seen Heath do this in our practice skirmishes. This is a thing you can do. This isn’t against the rules.
None of our attackers are open for me to pass them the ball. They just shout things at me and point at the goal, so I keep running in its direction and throw the ball at the last second.
The goalie doesn’t block it in time.
And … and …
I score.
I actually make a goal.
A whistle blows. Rough hands seize me and yank me into the air. Still dazed, I realize that most of the team has lifted me off the ground and is carrying me down the field, toward the sidelines. The coach is waving his hat around in the air.
“We won!” someone yells.
“You did it!” Vic, the only other player who’s name I actually know, yells in my face.
I did?
It takes me a bit to come back to reality, but I realize that, somehow, I won the game with that interception. Me. I did that. Apparently, I was we’d been losing a bit because Heath wasn’t there, and he’s our star player. But because of me, we won.
Because of me. Now I’ll never be able to get out of playing lacrosse.
That thought is still not enough to dampen the heady rush that’s left me floating over the crowd as it converges onto the field.
A lot of the teams’ girlfriends come down to see them before we pack up and head back to the locker room; which means Olive comes sauntering down while the girl I’ve named Becky attaches herself to Beck like some sort of suckerfish on the bottom of a shark.
But Olive doesn’t run up to congratulate Jasper. Instead, she walks straight up to me.
“Hey, Alex,” she says, “I didn’t know you were actually good.”
There’s no hint in her voice of the cattiness that has been her signature way of addressing me ever since break, so it takes me a minute of blinking stupidly at her before I reply.
“I mean …” I let out a little breath, glancing back over at the field, “me neither.”
She laughs. It’s different from her mocking laughter the other day. This is low, almost sultry. And I didn’t even say anything funny.
Oh, shit. This is flirting.
“Well, you’ve certainly improved.”
“Amazing what you can do when your ribs don’t hurt,” I say with a shrug. She giggles, and for the first time I wonder if Rafael was actually right. Maybe she actually has developed some sort of crush on me just because I’m not interested in her.
Girls are weird, but I’m not one to talk. I’m a girl, after all, and I’m about as weird as it gets … especially where crushes are concerned.
Speaking of crushes …
Jasper squeezes between two other players to get to us and reaches out to wrap an arm around Olive’s waist, but she steps just out of his reach. He scowls.
“What’s going on here?” he asks darkly.
“Olive and I are just talking,” I reply, taking a step away and keeping my voice cool.
“Yeah,” she says to him. “Calm down.” Olive tries to take Jasper by the arm, but she shrugs her away and stalks off.
Fuck. This isn’t going to be the last I hear of this.
I try to slip away, but Olive isn’t going to let me go as easily as she did Jasper, apparently. She steps in my way and bats her long lashes in my direction.
“He really can be such an ass, you know,” she says. She glances once over her shoulder, then leans a little closer. “Unlike you.”
I find myself floundering for words, but fortunately, Olive doesn’t seem to expect a response. She just grabs my hand, scrawls her phone number across it—as if she hasn’t sent it to me a dozen times already—and then winks at me once.
She smiles and walks away while I tuck my helmet under my arm and head off toward the locker rooms as fast as I can, leaving the guys and girls attached at their hips behind. Jasper’s cleared out, thankfully, so I can change in peace—but Heath is nowhere to be found. His gear’s gone, too.
I get back into my regular clothes and head for the door, ready to hunt down Jasper and try and fix this before it gets out of control again. I have to tell him I’m not interested in Olive. I have to make sure he doesn’t try to corner me and murder me again, despite his drunken admission the other night.
If anything, what he said to me that night just makes him even more unpredictable. Even more dangerous.
But any thoughts of some sort of man-to-man conversation with Jasper is cut off as soon as I step out of the locker room and slam straight into Beck’s chest.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Beck grabs me and pushes me against the door.
“What was that?” he snaps. “Where is Heath?”
“I don’t know,” I gasp, struggling.
Beck somehow presses even closer to me. “You were the last one with him. You have to know something. He never misses a game.”
I can practically feel the animosity leeching out of him.
“I don’t. He didn’t tell me anything.”
Beck narrows his eyes at me, but he doesn’t let go. “You stole his spotlight,” he says, leaning toward me.
“I didn’t want the spotlight!”
“Liar,” he growls, his hands digging into the flesh of my arms. I wince in pain, expecting a blow to come next, but instead his face changes. His grip loosens … just a bit.
“I’m not lying,” I tell him, reaching to touch the still throbbing spot on my arm.
But Beck grabs my chin and tugs it so that I’m forced to look at him. The accusation is as sharp in his eyes as it is on his tongue.
“You did this on purpose.”
“I didn’t do anything!” I finally snap. “Heath was acting weird and the coach wouldn’t let me help him!”
“You’re lying!” His eyes are wide with rage, and he gets that crazy gleam that I usually associate with Jasper. Beck’s maniacal, sure, but Jasper’s the one who lets his anger get the best of him.
Until today.
Today Beck breaks.
But not in the way I expect.
That light in Beck’s eyes burns furiously bright in the moment before he suddenly leans down and presses his lips fiercely against mine.
And he doesn’t pull away.
I freeze.
I’m confused.
He seems confused too, even as he moves his hands from my arms to my back to pull me close to him.
I put my arms between us so our chests don’t touch, but man, do I wish they could. He kisses me hard, and he’s warm and solid. His fingertips grip my shirt, balling the fabric up in his fists. His lips part just slightly and start moving against mine.
I remember being on the bridge with him. This almost happened there, I think. He wanted to kiss me, and I wanted him to—I know that now. Angry as he is, I want to kiss him too. Right here, right now. It’s all fear and desire and rage and frustration and passion. Heat spreads through me as I press my hands against his solid chest, feeling the muscles beneath his shirt.
Just as suddenly as he kissed me, he’s suddenly shoving me away.
He pushes me from him and I stumble, losing my balance some. Beck takes a step back and touches his mouth, panting, as he stares wide-eyed at me.
“Don’t you tell anyone about this,” he growls, jabbing one finger into the middle of my chest.
“Okay.”
“I’ll kill you if you do. If Jasper doesn’t kill you first,” he adds, gesturing to the phone number written on my palm.
“I won’t,” I assure him.
“Good.” He grits his teeth, turns, and flees out of the locker room.
I collapse against the wall. My knees turn to jelly.
Holy shit, Beck’s a good kisser.
What … what just happened? I should be freaking out right now, but all I can think about is the way he felt. The way we felt, together.
I’m shaking slightly when I reenter the school building.
My lips still tingle from being assaulted with Beck’s hungry kiss. The hallways are pretty sparse, anyone who’s interested in the game is still outside, and those who aren’t are either in the library or their own dorms. Only a couple students wander around to give me sideways glances.
They don’t know yet that I’m suddenly the lacrosse hero.
And they certainly don’t know about the clandestine kiss that just turned my life upside down.
I’m still floating, my mind both racing and empty of anything but the confusing memory of Beck’s kiss, so it’s no wonder that I don’t hear Dean Robin approaching until it’s too late.
Even then, it takes me a moment to fully understand what a mistake that is.
“Oh, Alex,” says the familiar, now irritating, voice. I grit my teeth and turn around to see her exiting a nearby classroom.
Nothing like the sight of her to suddenly drag me back down to earth. Was Dean Robin just sitting in there, waiting for me to pass by? I wouldn’t put it past her. Something about her, it seems to shrewd for her own good.
“Good work today,” she says, moving to stand between me and the hallway in front of me. “I didn’t know you were so skilled at lacrosse.”
“Yeah.” I shove my hands into my jacket pocket. Outside it was incredibly cold, but it’s warm in the hallway. I’m itching to get back to my dorm so I can peel off my sweaty clothing and take a shower.
Even if that means washing what remains of Beck’s kiss off of me?
I force that thought away. I have a very different problem here in front of me that I need to face. From the look on Dean Robin’s face, she doesn’t plan on letting me slip away until she’s said what she came here to say.
“Would you mind stepping in here for a moment?” She indicates the classroom behind her.
“I’ve got somewhere to be,” I tell her, thinking it’s at least worth a shot.
She looks at me a little doubtfully. “I just need to talk to you about your medical records.”
My stomach drops. Of course it’s this. So far, I’ve been able to give the front office enough of a run around that they eventually stopped asking for them.
I’d hoped that I’d been forgotten … but no such luck it seems.
“We still need them,” the dean continues. “It’s important.”
“Why? I can just get tested for mono. I’m not kissing anybody, so I’m not gonna spread it.” Actually, I just got back from kissing someone, didn’t I? Not that I’m about to tell her that.
“Oh, come now. A young … man … such as yourself?” She pauses too long on that word, man. It leaves me unsettled, as it’s meant to. “Surely there’s plenty of other—of girls you’d be kissing.”
My ears burn. She’s dropping too many hints for my liking. I frown slightly, shifting on my feet as I try to look for some escape from this.
“I’m sorry, I guess I’m just a little confused about why you’re asking about this,” I say.
She doesn’t budge, just gets a smug little smile on her face. “Of course. I can always go get the dean—”
“No!”
I cringe at the force behind my own words. Dean Robin, however, seems to settle back a bit as her posture relaxes. She’s won. For now.
“Fine,” I say, with a huff. “I’ll get them, but it’s going to take a couple days. My old GP doesn’t work on weekends.”
That’s a lie, but I’m hoping it’ll at least buy me some more time … maybe enough to make her forget. At least enough for me to make something of a runaround with some random GP’s office back home. If she’s working anywhere near as hard as Rafael on this dance, then there might actually be a chance, however small that chance may be.
“Very well. Run along.” She sighs defeatedly, looking at the few people passing by shooting us curious glances. “But don’t think this’ll be the end of it. I expect to see those records, Alex.”
I want to ask her what will happen if I refuse, but I want to get away from her even more.
I turn and march down the hallway toward my dorm. To my surprise, as I pass through the entrance hall, I see Heath sitting perched on one of the decorative benches, talking in hushed tones to Jasper.
I feel a strange pang of relief when I see him. I have to stifle the urge to run over and throw my arms around him. He’s here, and he’s fine.
Beck’s kiss has left me feeling changed, but in reality, everything remains the same. I have to remember that.
Heath and Jasper look my way and I try to scurry past them unnoticed, but they see me and stand up, heading to intercept me on the other side of the entrance hall. Jasper, of course, looks enraged. Heath just looks … a little blank. His eyes are glassy. He must be coming down from his high.
“Alex,” Jasper barks as he comes to stand in front of me.
I stop reluctantly, making sure to close my palm so he doesn’t see the numbers written there. He’s blocking my way to the dormitory wing. “Jasper.”
Any thoughts I had earlier of trying to face him man-to-man about Olive has long since dissipated. I realize now what a mistake that would have been. I was just hopped up on adrenaline from the game and had forgotten that sort of man-to-man chat can’t happen because I’m not a man.
I’m just a little 5’5” girl who’s pretending to be a boy still waiting for his growth spurt to hit.
A fact that I am so keenly aware of now.
Heath hovers near Jasper’s shoulder with a frown slowly forming. “I hear you took my position.”
“Well, you weren’t there,” I say. “Anyway, it wasn’t my choice.”
“You could’ve said no,” Jasper snaps.
“It was either step in or forfeit the game,” I say, carefully. “You definitely would’ve been pissed if I’d let us lose that way.”
“Don’t think this means you’re actually part of the team,” Jasper says, stepping close to me and jabbing his finger into my chest.
I bat his finger away. I’m hungry. I’m sweaty. I’ve just been kissed and accosted by a professor trying to dredge out my secret all in the span of ten minutes. On top of tha
t, I’m jonesing for a cigarette, and I don’t even like smoking.
A girl can only take so much.
“I helped win that game,” I snap, the irritation finally getting the better of me. “Can you chill for two goddamn seconds? I didn’t do anything. Heath didn’t show, the coach put me in. You’re acting like I did something wrong.”
“Did nothing wrong?” Heath’s breathy voice catches me off guard. “You left me in the locker room all alone.”
I cut my eyes to him. I can’t believe what I’m hearing. I’ve kept his stupid Adderall secret. I didn’t tell the coach that he was high and unequipped to play. I don’t know if Jasper and Beck know about his “medicine”, either, since I haven’t told them.
This is a fine line he’s walking, and he’s making me walk it with him.
“You were indisposed,” I snap. “I tried to get you out. I tried to tell the coach.”
“Well—” Heath begins, but I cut him off.
“Well nothing!” I shout. “Try to shift the blame if you want, but you know damn good and well that it was your fault! If not for me stepping in after what’s-his-nuts got injured, we would have lost. It’s really damned if I do, damned if I don’t around here, isn’t it?”
Heath grinds his teeth. He’s got a sweat breaking out on his forehead. Either he’s still high or he’s not fully come down off it like I thought.
“Well, whatever happened, don’t do it again,” Jasper snaps.
“Don’t save your buddy’s ass again? Fine! I won’t!” I’m just below yelling now. “Can I go now?”
I don’t wait for an answer. I just shove past them, the first time I’ve ever done something like that, and stride quickly away, rage burning in my chest.
“And stay away from Olive!” Jasper yells after me.
Of course, this is what this is really all about.
Don’t mind the fact that I just kept Heath’s secret. Don’t mind that I actually helped the team win that lacrosse game while their best player was too tweaked out to even show up. And certainly don’t mind the fact that one of them, the one conspicuously missing from the hunt for their missing friend, just kissed me in the locker room.