Unto Shadows

vii. freckles & dodgeball

Freckles & Dodgeball

THE FIRST THOUGHT that crossed my mind as I stared at my reflection in the bathroom mirror was, I look dead. Ice blue eyes lined by thick, dark lashes stared back at me, and my thin, pink lips pressed into a fine line. Freckles splashed my checks and shoulders, and a part of me considered pulling the towel up and around me to cover them. I hated my freckles. They were dark and impossible to cover up. A nuisance, if you would.

I tugged at the purple rings under my eyes. I needed to stop stressing about Revenant. In fact, I needed to stop thinking about him completely. It would be better if he'd stop showing up and invading my life, my privacy, and my mind altogether. If he didn't, I wasn't sure I'd be able to stop myself from digging myself into an early grave trying to figure out his hidden secrets.

I leaned my head against the mirror with a sigh. As the cracked corner of the sink caught my eye under the dim, yellow light of an uncovered lightbulb in the ceiling, I was once again reminded of why I hated this bathroom. No matter how many times we called, or how many times they told us they'd come, maintenance still hadn't shown up to fix the broken sink, or the stained tiled floors, or the partially-working hot water tank in the hall closet.

I let out a heavier sigh and ran a hand through tangled, ash brown hair that fell just below my shoulders. I lifted my head off the mirror and tightened my towel around me before stepping out of the bathroom. Steam rushed into the hallway and the cold hit me like a block of ice, but I ignored it in favor of jogging to my room, throwing on some clothes, and crawling under my covers.

•••••

      "I don't want to go."

      Heath let out a small chuckle as we stood outside of the gym doors. Since it'd taken me forever to get my thoughts in order and finally get some sleep last night, I'd been fighting to keep my eyes open all morning. Everyone says Monday's suck, but I was personally finding Tuesday to be my least favorite day of the week. "You have to."

      When his hands slipped behind my back to gently push me towards the doors, I immaturely dug my heels into the stained, off-white tiles. "No."

      "Yes." He dropped his hands from my back. "If you don't go in yourself, I'm going to throw you over my shoulder and carry you in."

      "You mean you're going to throw my dignity over your shoulder while I punch the crap out of your back," I translated. My eyes narrowed as I stared into his dark ones. "I'd like to see you try."

      A challenging eyebrow lifted, and I suddenly regretted my words. I took off running through the gym doors as soon as Heath's foot lifted to step my way.

      "Did you hear?" a boy I recognized as Jacob asked me as I stood in line beside him, waiting for our attendance to be called. I was pretty sure his last name was Price.

      "Preston," Coach greeted with a nod as he marked me down in his tablet as here. I dispersed from the line, walking over to Heath with Jacob in tow.

      "Hear what?" I asked him.

      "Coach wants us to play dodgeball," he said in surprise as his eyes shifted between Heath and I.

      "Is dodgeball even legal in schools, anymore?" I wondered aloud.

      The coach's whistle blew before anybody could give an answer to my question. He pointed to the floor about five feet away from his feet. "Arthur and Callahan, front and center." Linda Arthur and Caleb Callahan slumped towards the coach, standing on each side of him as he gestured for them to do so.

      "I'm going to smell like shit after this."

      I snorted at Heath's comment and watched as Linda and Caleb switched back and forth between picking a teammate. "Thanks for sharing, H."

      "Well, it's your fault." He stepped up beside me and glared, arms crossed defiantly over his chest.

      My eyebrows shot to the ceiling. "My fault? How is it in any way my fault that you smell like crap?"

      "I said 'shit' not 'crap'," he teased, "and because you hogged the bathroom all morning."

      I gaped. "I did not!"

      "Did to."

      I pursed my lips, looking away from Heath in favor of watching the team captains. There was still half the class left to be called on, but I wouldn't be surprised in the slightest if I was last. In all honesty, it was completely unfair and biased to let two of the most athletic people in the gym pick who they wanted on their team. I might've been more on the active side of life, but that didn't mean I was good at dodgeball, and my classmates knew that. "I'm a girl, so I'm expected to take a long time."

      Heath opened his mouth to protest—probably about I was being unfair and my argument and made no logical sense—but Linda called his name and stopped his argument before it happened. "We'll finish this later. That is so not fair. And sexist," he added as an afterthought.

      I condescendingly waved my fingertips with a snide grin. More names were called one by one, and finally, Caleb said my name. I stood awkwardly and started over to his side as the last three people were picked and coach rattled off instructions.

Before I knew what was happening, each team was spread out across opposite sides of the gym. Students rotated between chucking the ball at other players, and after a while of nobody attacking me, I wasn't fully paying attention when the ball came flying towards my head until it was too late. I sucked in a sharp breath and shielded my face with my hands, only for the ball to sail right past me.

I peaked through the gap in my arms to see the the other team waiting expectantly and followed their gaze behind me. Jacob peeled himself off the floor with a groan and rolled the ball back to the opposing team. "Guess I'm out," he muttered.

Being hit with the ball looked and sounded equally painful, and I suddenly felt even less of a desire to play this violent game.

The game went on for a while, only the athletic kids targeting their friends or worthy opponents. I was admittedly pleased that nobody targeted me, while also slightly offended. No sooner that I'd had the thought did the ball come flying towards my face. If I hadn't been sure before, I was positive the ball would hit me this time. I squeezed my eyes shut and braced for impact.

Except, instead of rubber smashing into skin, a squeak sounded on the floor at my feet. I opened my eyes and looked down to see a tanned teenager I didn't know the name of staring back at me. He was leaning on his elbows, rich brown eyes staring up at me with a cheeky grin.

Then he winked.

Surprised laughter bubbled out of me, and the smile on his face stretched even wider, if possible. He jumped up from his place on the floor as other students shouted at him to hurry up and get to the bleachers so they could play. He did as instructed, but stumbled as he was walking away.

For the rest of the game, I could feel those flirty eyes staring at me as I played, and time I glanced back to see if I was right, I received a wink in return.