The Return

Chapter Fourteen

Scarlett

"Are you coming or not?" Malcolm asked through a strangled breath. It was the first time he invited her over. It was after baseball practice and he was sweaty and short of breath from training.

On the field, she could still hear grunting and idle chatter from his teammates fooling around with their equipment.

He reeked of dried sweat.

She wasn't any better since she was a firm believer in showering at home and not in the grimy school locker rooms.

She was on her way to Jenna-Sue's car in the parking lot behind the bleachers when he caught up to her at first base.

The sun was setting casting a golden hue over the city. She could feel the sweat glistening on her skin, her cheerleading uniform clinging awkwardly to her pits and digging into her butt crack.

He was acting like that afternoon never happened.

Two could play that game.

Her eyes veered over at the parking lot beyond the wired fence. Jenna-Sue could see everything if she bothered to look up from her phone.

"I have to go, but I'll text you."

She didn't text. Or call, or reach out in any way.

She made it a habit of avoiding his baseball practice; giving one flimsy excuse or the other.

When she agreed to follow Malcolm home for the first time, it was after the big game. The one Malcolm was suspended from for poor academic performance.

He was flunking out of school and making it her problem.

It wasn't outright.

But she should have seen the signs when he turned up for the game an hour late and high.

He didn't merge into the chiming crowd on the bleachers. No, he went for the bench where Lincoln Lane's starting cheerleaders were prepping for the half-time show.

No one noticed the moment Malcolm grabbed Scarlett by the forearm, his nails digging into her skin. Or when he tugged her behind the bleachers. How could they when Lincoln Lane's mascot was shooting T-shirts into the crowd with a cannon. Where the oversized leopard got a cannon was beyond Scarlett.

She yanked her hand free.

"Why the fuck have you been avoiding me?" He leaned against the year-old graffiti. The Junior High baseball team did it as their Junior Year prank. In Lincoln Lane, the only two classes permitted to play pranks on the school were the Juniors and the Seniors and the Seniors always took it a little too far.

"I'm not avoiding you; I was preparing for the game." The lie rolled off her tongue. She massaged her sore arm.

"I'm not an idiot, Scar, you've changed. Ever since what happened at lunch the other day."

She clicked her tongue on the roof of her mouth. "I thought we were acting like that never happened?"

She pressed her hands to her cheeks.

He frowned. "What do you want me to say? I care about school. I care about making a good impression." He lifted his shoulder in a half shrug. "I care about my reputation. I care about what my friends think."

"And what about what I think?"

He groaned. "Are we still on this?"

Roaring erupted from the field. Cheering, screaming.

"We never left it." She jutted out her hip. "Why is it so hard for you to tell me to my face that you're only using me for a plastic crown and more lines on your college essay?"