Playing The Player

Playing The Player (8)

"You couldn't have picked a more tame color?"

The bell rings, signaling that we are both late for our next class. Maddox stands before me arms crossed and brows furrowed noting his sour mood. His jaw ticks slightly waiting for my response. 

My hand comes up to tuck the strand that has fallen behind my ear and his eyes seem to follow the movement as if he expects me to bolt any second. I'm still contemplating doing just that.

"That wasn't really the point of the prank, Maddox. An honest mistake really. You should really invest in getting your own shampoo, I mean-."

He waves his hand cutting me off and for some reason I stop talking. His light blue shirt stretches over his chest with the sudden movement. He points at me, "I don't know what little game you and my brother have going on, but you owe me one. Big time."

I nod my head, raising my hand in surrender. Maddox was never my target anyway. 

"Noted. If it makes you feel any better though, I think purple might be your color."

His lips twitch. Was that almost a smile?

"Don't push your luck, Valentine."

With that he turns and walks off to his next class, at least I assume so. I stare at his back. Maddox was always the level-headed one of the two. Even before he never participated in picking on me. Though he never tried to stop it either and I guess that in itself makes him just as bad as the rest. I hear a familiar shrilly voice from behind and duck behind the wall leading to the classroom door. 

"Oh Jax, I can't believe you both would dye your hair like that. Did y'all lose a bet or does Maddox know purple is my fave color and this is his way of asking me to get back with him? Because if it is-"

"Seriously, Heather, don't you have another guy to sink your claws into. My brother dumped you because you're a shit person. I wouldn't wait for him to come around. Might be a while." His voice drips with annoyance and disdain. 

I peak around the corner to see Heather place a manicured finger against Jax's black shirt and slink her way around until she is nearly on her tippy toes leaning up into his face.

"Careful Jaxton, you didn't seem to feel that way when you were shoving your tongue down my throat at that party. What would Maddox say if he knew?"

From here I can see the red marks on the bridge of his nose and while regret had started to creep its way into my mind, it's erased by Heather's last comment. His face screws up in disgust and he shakes her off of him with a sneer.

"He'd say I have bad judgement and, ya know, I'd say I'd have to agree with him. Now slither off to find your next boy toy."

Heather huffs in anger and stomps off, making sure her shoulder slams into Jax's on her way past him. His head peers off at her retreating figure, before he gives it a shake. He starts to turn back towards my direction so I duck my head back behind the wall, not wanting to be discovered.  

"Miss Hills, shouldn't you be heading off to your next class. You're late."

In my attempt to stay hidden, I didn't even see my attentive principal walk up from the right. Yet here he is in all his faculty glory, looking at me expectantly like he didn't just throw me to the wolves. Or should I say the wolf who doesn't stop and avoids including himself in the importance of being on time speech I'm receiving. Instead as he passes Mr. Gates, Jaxton glances back at me, eyes dancing with suspicion.

'Later.' He mouths before he continues on his way.

I nod my head absentmindedly, "Yes, Mr. Gates, I'm actually heading there now."