Playing Dangerous

VII

Will's POV...

"What have you lost here all alone?" I notice Tate sitting on the sidewalk on my way home and sit next to her. "You look like a lost kitten." She only stares at me as if I'm a ghost.

"I wasn't expecting you here." She tells, looking a bit confused.

"I walk home, remember?" I smile at her but she doesn't seem in a mood. "Hey, Tate is everything okay with you?"

"Yes, yes. Everything's completely fine." Her voice sounds drained and lifeless. I don't like this version of her, it bothers me that she isn't smiling. She should always smile, I've rarely seen smile suiting person like her.

"But it doesn't seem fine. You can tell me what happened if you want to." I tell her.

"No, I don't."

"Oh. Okay then, let's just sit here. I have no hesitation." Taking my cigar pack out of pocket I offer her one without saying word. She refuses it so I light mine.

Tate watches me confused for the next few seconds and then chuckles. "Are you seriously going to sit here with me?"

"Why not? This place is quite... interesting. Never had such spot where car can run over you, but there's always first time for everything, isn't it?" She laughs again. Her voice is beautiful when she laughs. And that smile has some magic that can blind a man.

"You're in a better mood I see. What happened?" Beautiful girl asks.

"Well, yes I'm definitely happier than you at the moment, because our PE teacher's assistant and I had a little talk about my past experiences and I may or may not be new Captain of the football team."

"Oh my god," she gasps and wraps her arms around my neck. "Congratulations, so Mitchel accepted you, that's amazing."

"Thank you," I pause. I remove her from me to look at her hand which is bleeding.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't want to violate your personal space." Her smile is apologetic but hug isn't issue.

I hold her hand, looking down at her bloodied palm. "Did someone hurt you on purpose?" She isn't saying anything. "Who did this to you?"

"Oh jeez, no one. I just cut myself." I have this feeling that she's lying to me and tries to cover it with cute giggle.

"How did you manage to do it exactly?" I ask as her eyes blink a few times.

"Glass broke," she says.

"Which glass?"

"It's nothing I promise. Mitchel's glasses broke I picked pieces up and cut my hand. That's all." Look on her face is weird and troubled. "You went on full overprotective mode."

I laugh. "My distrustful nature doesn't stay hidden, does it? Did that asshole bother you last night?" Finally I ask what I'm really interested in. "I wasn't able to sleep, I was thinking about you whole night."

"You were worried about me?" While our dialogue continues I grab her injured hand again and wrap it with my handkerchief.

"I immediately regretted leaving you there with him. I was worried that psycho would try to harm you again." For whatever reason she averts her eyes as if she's concealing something and she's ashamed of it.