Total pages in book: 215
Estimated words: 199344 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 997(@200wpm)___ 797(@250wpm)___ 664(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 199344 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 997(@200wpm)___ 797(@250wpm)___ 664(@300wpm)
“Wow,” I say, blowing my cheeks out, exaggerating my response. “You’re fucked.”
Shannan looks back at Hazel. “I’m sorry, okay,” she says, clearly having no concept of a heartfelt apology. “I didn’t realize you were a kid.”
“Oh, so if I wasn’t a kid, that would have made it okay?”
“I . . .” Shannan trails off, and a smugness tears through me, filling my body with the sweetest kind of elation. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Shannan lost for words. “Look, please just keep your mouth shut about it. I was having a little fun with you. It was just a joke.”
“Right. Fun. That’s what we call sexualizing children.”
Shannan blanches again, and I gape at Hazel, wondering where the hell she learned that, but my questions will have to wait until Shannan decides she’s had enough and takes off.
The second she turns and sprints down the stairs, Hazel and I turn back around, and when we do, she lets go of the fear, and the tears burst from her green eyes, sailing down her cheeks like rivers. I throw my arms around her, pulling her into my chest. “Welcome to high school,” I tell her, running my fingers through her hair. “It’s okay. You just took down the queen of the school. Most people can only dream of doing something like that.”
“I never want to be like her.”
“You never will be. Your heart is too pure. It’s not possible.”
Hazel wipes her eyes and pulls out of my arms to focus on the game, but I can tell she’s no longer interested. She pulls at Noah’s jersey as though she’s never been so uncomfortable in her life. The idea that someone could think something so un-pure of her simply for wanting to show support to someone she’s looked up to her whole life makes her second guess herself.
My heart breaks for her, and I nudge her with my elbow. “You don’t have to wear it,” I tell her. “He’ll understand.”
As if desperately needing that approval, she shrugs the offending jersey over her head, and I take it from her, bunching it up in my hands. The clock counts down the final few seconds before halftime, and when the crowd roars for the Mambas, who are now decently ahead, Hazel glances up at me. “Is this the end?” she whispers, a hopeful tone in her voice.
“No,” I tell her. “It’s only halftime, but we don’t have to stay. If you want to go, we can.”
“Oh.” Hazel spares a glance toward the field to where Noah stands huddled with his team, his eyes glued on us, and his brows furrowed. “Do you think . . . Will he be sad if we go home?”
“Of course not,” I tell her. “But you know Noah. He’s going to demand answers. As soon as he’s done here, I guarantee he’ll be knocking down your door wanting to know what happened. So as long as you’re good with that and feel confident in talking with him about it, then we’re good to go. Otherwise, we’re going to have to stay and play the part. But just between you and me, he’s already watching us, and judging by the look on his face, he knows something’s up.”
Hazel’s gaze snaps up, her eyes widening, and seeing the concern in Noah’s curious stare, she gasps. “Oh no. Do you think we can get out of here before he notices we’re gone?”
“No chance in hell,” I laugh, thinking of the way he’s able to find me in an overcrowded room as though I had screamed his name. “But considering Coach Martin’s tendency to give really long pep talks, we might be able to make a break for it while Coach is demanding his undivided attention.”
Hazel nods, determination flashing in her eyes. “Deal.”
With that, we make a break for it, squeezing our way past the other people in our row before clutching each other’s hands and bounding down the stairs. I feel Noah’s gaze on us every step of the way, and for a moment, I wonder if we can blend in with the other people taking toilet breaks during halftime, but he saw the look in my eyes. He knows we’re leaving.
We hit the ground and hurry through the throng of bodies, and just when we approach the student parking lot and think we’re home free, that deep tone that haunts my every moment cuts through the night. “Where the hell are you going?”
Hazel and I stop to glance back, and as I take in Noah with his helmet braced against his hip, I can’t help but see the hurt flashing in his eyes. But he doesn’t get to hurt. If it weren’t for him, Hazel wouldn’t have been exposed to that ugliness. Though, I suppose that’s not fair. He’s not responsible for how Shannan behaved, but he was certainly responsible for putting her in that position in the first place.