All Bets Are Off

Chapter Thirty-Six - Ella Fordman: Moment of Truth

“Good morning,” Phoenix greeted me a mere sixteen hours later, slinging an arm around my shoulder and pressing a gentle kiss to my cheek. I glanced around the schoolyard, noting the curious stares and whispers that promised us a turn on the gossip mill.

Let them. I didn’t care.

I turned around and pressed a peck to his lips, savoring the soft feel and the way he smiled against my lips when he kissed me.

That was just another thing I loved about him. The fact that, no matter the circumstances, whether he’d just kicked the crap out of a kid or he was greeting me in the school hallway, he always grinned like an idiot when I kissed him. Like it was the only thing on this Earth that gave him pure, unadulterated joy.

I pulled back and sighed contently. “Morning,” I replied.

“If I knew that was the greeting I’d get every morning I would have done this a long time ago,” Phoenix said breathlessly, his cheeks flushed and his eyes full of wonder.

I laughed, grabbing onto his hand and pulling it close to me, threading my fingers through his.

Leslie passed by, and I watched her blue eyes widen as she spotted our joined hands and the way I was resting my weary head on his shoulder, my eyes partly closed as I savored his smell—because, let’s face it, he smelled heavenly.

She meandered up to us and glanced between us, her mouth opening and closing a few times as she tried to form the words before she finally spoke. “Does this mean you two are…?” she trailed off, but I knew exactly what she was trying to insinuate.

I nodded, and she clapped a hand to her mouth and let out a loud squeal, before jumping forward and throwing her arms around the both of us. “Yes! I knew it! I knew it’d happen eventually. God, it took you two idiots long enough to admit your feelings for each other, you know that?”

Phoenix laughed as she pulled back, looking like Christmas had come early and she’d gotten everything she wanted.

Just then I spotted him at the end of the hallway. Even with his hood up and the shades on, I could already see the damage done to his severely bruised face, and my breath caught in my throat.

It was Carter Prince, and he was coming straight towards us.

My hand subconsciously tightened on Phoenix’s, and he was cut off midsentence from his conversation with Leslie. “Wha—?” he began, but stopped suddenly when he saw the direction of my gaze and what had caused me to tense up.

“What—Oh, my God,” Leslie whispered, staring at Carter, obviously noting the injuries on his face—I spotted a broken nose and a jaw, though who knew how much more he had injured himself. “Phoenix, did you…”

Phoenix nodded, keeping a wary eye on Carter, who had his hands in fists in his pockets and his gaze cast downward.

His gaze lifted and pinned Phoenix with a glare cold enough to melt dry ice, but said nothing, simply shuffling past us and out the doors of the hall, as if we were ghosts or peasants not worth his time.