The Boy Captured My Heart with a Single Photograph

Chapter Four- All's Fair in Love and Dodgeball

The teams are decided; we line the walls and glare at the opposing team ferociously. Geo somehow managed to pick all of the beefy jocks and all of the hot girls. Milo planned for strategy, and picked people who had unique things to offer the team. Our fingers barely hovered against the wall, chomping at the bit to rush the dodgeballs in the middle of the room.

Geo points to me, then to his disease-ridden crotch, and then he essentially rapes the air in front of him. “My house at eight, Leila! Be there!” There are a few wolf whistles and catcalls.

I point to him, then make kissing motions and then point to my ass. “Kiss my arse, Geo!” I screech. The class bursts into laughter and applause. Milo shoots me a dazzling grin and Rena slaps me a high five.

Geo smirks and hollers back, “Gladly, baby!” I just can’t win with this kid!

The screeching trill from Coach Jacobson’s whistle signals the start of the game. And I decide that I am going to take out my wrath on Geo. The loss of my sketchpad is being transfigured into rage and being aimed at Geo.

Geo.

Is.

So.

Going.

Down.

I sprint to the middle of the court and get there almost first as a result of my long legs. I am a veteran of dodgeball, so I do what is best for the team. I get to the dodgeballs first and push them back towards my teammates. I grab one for myself and pelt one of the blonde bimbos on Geo’s team. She squeals, rolls her eyes and struts away towards the “out” bleachers. I feel oddly satisfied inside.

My team now has a majority of the dodgeballs. All hell breaks loose. This game is crazy competitive. Five minutes into the game all the bimbos are on the bench and we’re all sweating. Geo is panting like a dog, his beefy guys are all seemingly fired up on steroids, and Rena has this bestial intensity in her eye.

A hand is suddenly on my shoulder. I squawk (super attractive, I know) and jump before I realize that it’s just Milo.

Oh crap, it’s just Milo.

“Leila,” he says quietly with a curious expression on his face. I expect him to ask about my breakdown earlier today, but he blindsides me by asking, “Do you have a thing for Geo?”

I blink and start cackling. I laugh so hard that I have to clutch my sides when they cramp up. I’m leaning over, tears streaming from my face from laughing so hard. Rena is examining me like I’m a mental patient.

“Oh, God, no,” I manage between fits of hysteria. Milo looks relieved and shoots me a devious smile.

“Good,” he says before hurtling a dodgeball and pelting Geo with it right in the gut. He wheezes and grips his stomach. If I wasn’t laughing before, I certainly am now. Me and Milo are chortling. Rena joins us. All is light and enjoyable until a hand grips my wrist like a vice. I gasp and am yanked forward until I am face to face with a very furious Geo.

“You,” he seethes, spittle flying from his lips and onto my nose, “will be mine. No matter what, I’ll make it happen.”

Before I have time to process this ominous threat, Geo is pushed away from me and sprawled on the hardwood gym floors. I am shocked beyond belief to see that it was Milo who shoved Geo. Granger is seething, his hands clenched to fists at his sides.

“If you ever so much as look at her again,” Milo snarls furiously, “I will end you.”

Geo sneers and jogs off to the “out” bench. Milo is struggling to remain calm after the ordeal. I place a hesitant hand on his arm, brushing the hair from his face. Milo turns to face me and his eyes worriedly scan my face. He relaxes a little but is still tense. Not looking away from me, Milo asks, “Hey, Rena. Can you distract the coach for a moment?”

She nods and jogs off to comply. I shoot Milo a questioning look, but he simply grabs my hand and leads me out of the gym and into the empty hallway. When we leave the back entrance of the gym, Milo stops and wordlessly takes my wrist and inspects it. When he turns it over in his hands, I wince. There are bruises the shape of Geo’s fingerprints. A muscle in Milo’s jaw jumps and I can hear his teeth grit together.

“Milo…” I say softly. He looks up at me from under his lashes. My breath hitches in my throat. His fingers lightly trace patterns on my sore wrist. His cobalt eyes are as blue as a churning sea at the mercy of a tempest. Then, to my great surprise, he pleads, “Please don’t cry.”

“I’m not…” I’m interrupted by the sensation of wetness dripping down my cheeks. “I’m crying?!” I exclaim, totally surprised by my strange behavior. I furiously wipe at my eyes and sniff.

Milo is still staring at me, a curious and concerned expression splayed across his features. He lightly picks up my injured wrist again and gingerly twines his fingers with mine. His physical education uniform is very becoming for him. The shirt is tight, showcasing his abdominal muscles. I can’t stop imagining what it would be like to see his shirt off of his person.

Ignoring my erratically-beating heart (which is doing the Irish jig in my ribcage), I fake a laugh that sounds more like a moan and inform him, “I lost my sketchpad.”

“But I have your sketchpad,” he blurts earnestly. “You dropped it in Mr. Wheezer’s room… Wait, is that why you went there earlier today?”

I stare at him with my mouth gaping open and smack him with my good hand. “Milo, why on Earth would you think that I just went to Mr. Wheezer’s room for tickles and giggles?”

“Well, you technically never said why you were going,” he points out, flicking his silky smooth hair out of his eyes. What it would feel like to run my fingers through that hair… Snap out of it, Leila! You’re losing an argument!

Milo groans and runs his own hand through his hair. “Now I feel like suck a dork. Your sketch journal is in my backpack, which is in the boy’s locker room. I’ll return it to you after class.”

“This is the last class of the day, Granger,” I tell him wryly.

“Yeah, I know… Ugh, I’m such a geek…” he moans, burying his face in his hands. He pauses and peeks up at me from between his fingers. It is literally the most adorable thing I have ever witnessed in my entire seventeen years of existence. Hesitantly; hopefully, he asks, “How about I make it up to you by purchasing you a shake at Johnny Rockets?” His cheeks are tinted the sweetest shade of pink, which makes my cheeks flush as a reaction.

I scoff and try to hide my blush. “Sure.”

AN//: Another chapter! Kind of dramatic/predictable/sappy/stupid, but it was necessary for the next chapter. Their first date! How do you think it will go? Comment with you opinion, and vote if you liked it. Please? I’ll make sure the next chapter is extra juicy! ;)