Antonio cared about his staff, that he wanted everyone to be
like a family – but it seemed like more than that now.
Something was going on. Something strange as if everything
has been in place, set in place years before me. And I wanted
to know what it was.
That Monday, I arrived at school on time for morning
wrestling, wearing my own set of gym clothes, much to the
snickering disappointment of the boys who had enjoyed
seeing me in my tight clothes earlier. I hadn't seen Varun in
the hallway, much to my disappointment, but although I
longed to see him I was a little bit relieved. How could I look
him in the eyes, taking in his adorable puppy-dog smile,
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when I knew that I had kissed his cousin and rival mere hours
after I had succumbed to his own charms?
Did I want Chance, or did I want Varun? Brandon?
Chance's cruelty towards me was making me competitive –
the more he pulled away, the harder I wanted to pull him
back towards me, to make him mine. He wanted me as badly
as I wanted him – I was sure of it now – the arrogance and
the boorishness was all an act. He'd admitted as much when
he talked about danger.
But what was I in danger from? Or who?
I did not look at Chance when I walked into class,
and he was just as clear about not looking at me. He kept his
chin high in the air and focused his gaze out the window. But
I could feel his desire even without looking at him. We can
feel each other’s presence – the air was thick with tension
between us. His energy filled the room and made me
shudder.
But I wasn't going to let him distract me from my
goal. Last Friday, Alice had beaten me easily. But this time
it was going to be different. I followed the warm ups Coach
Matthews gave us to the letter, running an extra lap around
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the gym when the others were tired out. I watched as he
showed us the various moves we needed to perform, using
Alice as an example, and I tried out the various methods of
felling an opponent with Bobby, a tall, lanky boy with whom
I had been partnered for the technique portion of the class.
At last it was time for the “square-offs,” the final
fifteen minutes of class, where we were each matched
against each other to apply what we learned. I watched the
other wrestlers – Bobby, Tim, Chance – like a hawk,
watching exactly what it was that they did, trying to mirror
their technique.
At last it was my turn. My first match, against Alice,
was a predictable defeat, although in my defense I managed
to withstand her superior strength for a full five seconds
longer than last time. But my second match, with Misty,
proved a more even fight.
“Good luck,” I heard Chance whisper to her as she
got up to fight me, and I quietly seethed. Chance, whatever
else had happened between us, had kissed me only two days
ago: shouldn't he be wishing me good luck? I couldn't help
glaring at Misty – what did she have that I didn't? Why was
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he so nice to her and not to me? Did Chance have an
especially soft sport for electric-blue hair?
This time I won. Whether I was spurred by a genuine
improvement in my wrestling technique or by jealousy and
adrenaline I do not know, but I managed to get Misty on her
back, pinning her tightly to the mat and accidentally bruising
her elbow in the process.
“Are you hurt?” Chance helped Misty up, inspecting
her elbow and touching it softly with his finger.
I looked at him with surprise. How could he be so
kind with Misty, so gentle, when he was such a rake to me?
And then it hit me.
Misty was his girlfriend. That was the reason he'd
been avoiding me, avoiding our attraction, pushing me away.
He and Misty already had some sort of connection. My face
flushed with shame – how had I been so stupid, so
thoughtlessly cruel, as to go after another girl's boyfriend?
But that shame quickly turned to anger. It had been Chance's
choice to dance with me, Chance's choice to kiss me that first
time – and he'd certainly kissed me back on the second. It
was clear that I liked him, and he could have told me at any
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time that he was seeing someone else.
But instead he'd chosen to lead me on, to betray
Misty and to make me into some kind of a fool. For fun, I
wondered bitterly? Did he enjoy humiliating me? My cheeks
blazed. How dare Chance lie to me like that!
Coach Matthews turned to me. “You look flushed,
Evers,” he said. “You look like you could use another go.”
“I sure could,” I muttered. “I'm not done yet.”
“Lots of energy for a beginner.” Coach Matthews
laughed. “I'm impressed.” He scribbled something I couldn't
see down on the keyboard. “Heart of a champion, clearly.”
He looked the class
