Knight

15

Mason Maloney

School has always come quite easily to me. It was rare that I ever had to put in a lot of studying to get good grades and I never had to spend too much time on homework. So when my English teacher allowed us to start our homework in class, I finished it quite quickly and stuck my earbuds in to listen to the playlist I had made for Sam.

Ross tapped on my shoulder, motioning for me to take my headphones. I complied and gave him a questioning look, raising an eyebrow.

"Can you help me with this one?" he asked, pointing down at his paper.

The homework was to do a close read of the book we were reading and jot down things we noticed while also answering some questions.

"Just write about the imagery," I answered. "There's tons of it."

Ross groaned. "I don't even know what that is."

I rolled my eyes. "Yes, you do."

"I really don't!" he argued to which I just ignored him, putting my earbuds back in and resting my head on my desk.

It was then that Ross looked at me, quirking his eyebrow when his eyes zeroed in on my neck. He pointed a finger at me and plucked an earbud out of my ear. I sent him an annoyed glance, narrowing my eyes, before taking the other one out and sitting up.

"What?" I snapped in a forceful whisper.

"Who have you been making out with?" he asked in an amused tone.

"What are you talking about?"

Ross brought his finger to my neck. "You have a hickey."

Of course, I knew I had a hickey. I had multiple actually. They were in the middle of fading, so they were still quite prominent. When getting dressed this morning, I had purposely picked out a shirt that would cover the bruises on my neck, but the way I was sitting must have made at least one visible.

"That's not a hickey," I denied, trying to sound nonchalant.

Ross rolled his eyes. "Oh yeah? Then what is it?"

"It's... a birthmark," I lied, speaking slowly. "Yeah, a birthmark."

"Real convincing," Ross replied sarcastically, dropping the subject.

Soon enough class ended and we were headed off to meet the rest of our friends for lunch. It didn't take long for Ross to pull on my shirt and expose my bruise to Bella and Pete. Pete let out a cheer while Bella gasped loudly.

"Way to go, buddy," Pete congratulated, punching my shoulder lightly.

I shook my head at him.

"Who the hell gave you that?" Bella questioned, looking bewildered.

I shrugged. "Doesn't matter."

"Doesn't matter?" Bella scoffed. "You have to tell your best friends who you're screwing."

Pete shook his head. "No, he doesn't. We don't gossip like girls."