“Do you want to keep running?” she asked, looking worriedly from my face to my arm and then back to Vance.
I shook off my anger and nodded once.
“Yeah,” I said. “I think I still hate Symphony more than Vance.”
She made a disgusted face. “You want to know what would happen if those two got together?”
Horror washed over my face. “Bite your tongue!”
She snickered and gestured for me to keep going.
I did, focusing on the burn in my lungs and not the ache in my arm.
I was on my second to last lap when I’d had enough.
The ache in my arm had gone from a dull throb to a sharp ache somewhere between the lap I was on and the one before it.
And when I looked back at Blue, she was once again caught up in all of the football guys. Meaning that I would be soon, too.
Ducking out of the way before Banner reached me—because yes, he was still in first place as he took the bleachers two and three at a time—I ducked down low beside the water table and took a seat on the ground.
Blue would know where to find me, which was why I wasn’t worried about not being seen.
The huge fuckin’ water jug and table blocked my view, and barely anyone ventured beyond the table because the water was on the front of the table, not the back.
But Blue knew where I liked to sit.
This was one of the only spots on the field that was shaded and I was currently dying. The heat of the sun was so strong that I felt like I could literally feel it burning into my skin.
Blue rounded the table and plopped down beside me, two cups of water in her hand.
“I stole these,” she said. “Straight out of your boyfriend’s hand.”
“He’s not my boyfriend.” I smiled as I took a sip. “You didn’t want to keep going?”
She snorted. “I didn’t want to do it in the first place.”
“Touché,” I snickered.
The boys started to gather around the table and soon I heard the unmistakable sound of the fucker’s voice who’d nearly pushed me down the bleachers earlier.
“Hey, Banner,” Vance called. “Who’s the Chinese chick?”
Banner didn’t answer.
But it was okay.
Somebody else did for him.
“You mean the one that you almost knocked down the bleachers when you shoulder-checked her?” someone called out.
I froze, looking at Blue with wide eyes.
“What the fuck is he talking about?” Banner’s cold, dark voice asked.
Vance laughed. “He’s not talking about anything.”
“Bullshit,” another voice called out. “I was looking back at you because I could hear you two yelling. You hit her so hard that she fell into that guardrail. If that guardrail wasn’t there, she would’ve tumbled all the way down the bleachers with how fuckin’ hard you hit her.”
I winced, looking at Blue as if she could help what was about to happen.
I knew it was going to happen, too.
Blue and I stood up in slow motion, my arm protesting the movement, and looked over the water table to see Banner chest to chest with Vance.
“Stay. Away. From her,” Banner growled, bumping Vance with his chest.
Vance laughed, pulling his arms up as if in a placating gesture.
But Banner wouldn’t be placated.
“I don’t know who she is, man.” Vance tried to laugh it off as if he didn’t do anything. “It was an accident.”
“Accident my ass.”
That was Titus.
He’d been too close to Banner to see what happened, but he could guess just like I assumed the rest of them were doing.
“Boys!” the coach called. “Out on the field!”
Banner’s jaw locked tight, and he looked like he’d rather throat punch Vance than do anything that the coach asked of him.
Vance backed away, grinning at Banner as he did, until he was too far away to get a punch in.
Then he said, “She’s feisty.”
Banner took a step in his direction, but I was there to stop him from taking another step.
My hand on his wrist felt like I was gripping a steel bar.
The veins that were protruding from his skin had me curious, and God, but he had a big wrist. I couldn’t even get my fingers all the way around it.
“Banner,” I said softly, tugging him before he could take a step toward Vance.
Vance saw the way Banner held back for me, and his eyes narrowed.
“Vance, if you’re trying out today, let’s get it done,” Coach called out, making Vance’s eyes narrow.
He finally came to a decision, though, because seconds later he was turning and running to where he was told to be.
“I fucking hate him,” Banner snarled under his breath.
He turned to me, his eyes intense.
“Are you okay?” he asked, voice low and pissed.
I opened my mouth to immediately reply that I was, but before I could answer he moved to my side—the side with the quickly forming bruise along my arm—and hissed.
“Fuck,” he said. “This is bad.”
I looked down at my arm, trying to see it from his angle, but couldn’t.
“It’ll be okay,” I promised.
And it would.
“It’ll hurt like a motherfucker when you try to play volleyball tomorrow,” he murmured, running a thumb down the length of my arm in tender sweeps.
It would.
What would hurt even worse was when I had to go to the weight room tomorrow.
But I wouldn’t be mentioning that.
“I promise, I’m okay,” I repeated.
He sighed and dropped my arm, his eyes going unfocused as he looked at the bruise. “You need ice.”
I did.
“I’m going to right now,” I told him.
He grumbled something under his breath, and I took that to mean ‘good.’
“You’ll see tomorrow at school, Banner,” I said, pulling my arm away from him.
“Hey, Banner!” Vance called. “How about you let your girl go and come play some football.”
Banner stiffened even more. “I don’t fucking like this.”
Blue, sensing that Banner was about to lose his shit—again—broke in then.
“Hey, Slone,” Blue called. “Can I hold your baby?”
Slone, who’d stayed behind along with five others to make sure things didn’t get out of hand, looked at Blue
