Chapter 21

"So, how do you guys know each other?" Max asked, gesturing between Hunter and me.

Hunter took a slow sip of his drink. "We're in the same gym class."

"Let me guess, Alice. You didn't think much of him, but then you saw him play ball. Trust me, I get it. I'm straight, and I get turned on watching him on the court. All sweaty and—"

Hunter coughed into his cup, his cheeks flooding with pink. "Jesus! She's already here. You don't have to wingman me."

Max put his hands up and winked at me. "I know you know."

I grinned, unable to help myself. "He mostly just stands there."

No one else was part of the conversation, but every single head swiveled in my direction, and I faltered under the sudden attention. Hunter seemed both entertained and relaxed as he rested one elbow on the bar behind him.

Hudson rolled his eyes, but for the first time, it didn't appear to be at me. "Of course he does." He had the same laziness as Hunter, and in any given moment, it'd be impossible to determine who was dying of worse boredom.

He was attractive, but not like Hunter. He reminded me of a wounded animal. The type of boy who was shoved into lockers or left stranded in the gym shower without his clothes. He most likely returned to school one fall with hair that fell gracefully across his forehead and reticent dark brown eyes. Girls had to have noticed him, but he had the sort of face that always looked suspicious. He could probably be making out with a girl, and he'd still manage to look leery the entire time.

Hunter shrugged, as if the conversation was more monotonous than watching a ceiling fan. "The team I'm stuck on is straight shit." He tossed a smirk in my direction. "No offense, teammate." He addressed the group again. "And besides, I have appearances to keep up."

I nodded, because he had a point. "Who else would lean against the bleachers and contemplate murder all period?"

Hunter grinned down at me. "Exactly. Thank you, Alice."

Melody swirled her cup, her chipping black nail polish as dark as the look she gave Hunter. "And who's paying any attention to you? Except her apparently."

Max snorted. "Says the girl with pink hair and combat boots, always trying to make a statement about how miserable and bitchy she is."

Kohen had been quiet beside Melody, more interested in pressing his lips to the side of her neck than the conversation, but he startled. "Hey! Don't call her a bitch."

Max looked horrified. "I would never!" But then he half shrugged. "I said she's bitchy; there's a difference."

Kohen laughed, and Melody swatted the side of his head with a swipe of her fingertips. It only made him laugh harder as he shoved his face into the side of her neck until she conceded in giggles. I looked away, my cheeks heating on their behalf.

"Hey, Melody," Hunter called, his voice sly and teasing. When she finally looked at him, her gaze was pure ice, but Hunter wasn't one to be deterred. "Can't you speak up for yourself? Why does he have to defend you all the time?"

"Don't start with me, Hunter." She gripped her drink, and I wouldn't have been surprised if she'd dumped it over his head, but she refrained from following the impulse.

Max waved a hand at Kohen and Melody in disinterest. "I'm sorry. I'm still having trouble getting past this basketball thing." He scratched the side of his head, redirecting his attention to me. "What do you mean he just stands there?"

I bit the corner of my lip and tried not to smile. "The other day it took him six shots during a game of knock-out just to get knocked out by a girl who looked like she was throwing a football."

Hunter burst out laughing while Max and Kohen exchanged mutual glances of horror. Hunter leaned toward me, his voice soft and breathless in my ear. "That's only because you'd already been knocked out, thank you very much."

Something coursed through me. It felt like panic gripping my stomach, but I didn't feel tempted to freeze or lean away.

Max shook his head, disgusted by his laughter. "You're a waste of talent."

Hunter stuck his foot out so we could all get a good view of his black Vans that looked as if they'd been thrown in the dryer a couple hundred times. "These are the basketball shoes I wear."

"I can't. I need a drink." Max stomped over to the bar, muttering, and then Hunter was really laughing. His breath touched the back of my neck, and for one insane moment, I imagined his arms wrapped around me. I peered into my cup. It was more than halfway empty, and I gave my head a quick shake, rattling my brain.

"It's probably because Scott's in their class," Melody said, inspecting her fingernails.

Hunter glared at her. "It's because it's gym class. Who gives a shit?"

Max leaned into the conversation as he waited for his cup to be refilled. "All the more reason to try. Make that fucker look like an idiot."

At this point, Hudson was bored beyond measure. "Didn't you fail gym twice?"

Max glanced around with wide eyes. "Well, I passed eventually," he said, as if that was all that mattered. "You should come watch him play at the park sometime, Alice."

Hunter shifted from foot to foot, his amusement gone as though it had never been there.

"Yeah, maybe. Do you play too?" I asked.

Max blinked at me. "Huh? Fuck no. I can barely run the length of the court without wheezing." Struck by the thought, he pulled a pack of cigarettes from his coat pocket despite being indoors. "Any takers?"

Everyone reached for one except me, and Max tilted the box in my direction. "Alice? You smoke?"

I shook my head. He winked at me as he fit the unlit cigarette between his lips. "That's good. Apparently they're seriously bad for you."

Despite the choking air, I smiled back.

Hudson tossed the lighter to Hunter, and just as Hunter was about to light his cigarette, Max plucked it from his lips.

"Actually, you're undeserving!" Max raised the cigarette in triumph.

Hunter rolled his eyes, appearing used to his antics, as he rifled through his sweatshirt pocket and pulled out his own pack of cigarettes.

Max caught my eye and explained, "I'm sort of like Hunter's basketball manager."

Kohen's arms were still wrapped around Melody, his lips inches from the area of skin where her neck met her shoulder, and I realized Erica had been right about one thing. Melody had a boyfriend, and it certainly wasn't Hunter. Kohen looked up at me with a wide grin. "Except think more of a pimp than a manager."

Max howled with laughter while Hudson spoke his first string of words to me. "He bets money on him."

"He pimps him out," Kohen corrected.

I turned to Hunter, my smile reflexive. "Does he pimp you out?"

He shrugged, lips twitching. "I make good money. How else would I be able to afford this terrible habit?" He lit his cigarette and inhaled slowly.

"Hey, Alice," Max said, struck by something else. "Are you aware that Hunter is the second smartest person in your school?"

Hunter groaned.

"Yeah, the salut ..." Max glanced around. "What the fuck's it called again?"

"The salutatorian," Kohen supplied, but I was too busy gaping at Hunter.

"That's super impressive," I said, trying to sort through it.

He winced. "Our school is not that big."

I knew Hunter was smart, of course, but I was most impressed because it meant he was planning for a future. I thought we were the same in that sense, but we weren't. I cut my wrists in bathrooms and he'd taken too many pills once, but while I still wasn't sure I'd make it, he'd already decided.

Max slung one arm around Hunter's shoulder. "The whole package. Am I right, Alice?"

"If you ain't first, you're last!" Kohen called, grinning. "Eh, Hunter?"

Hunter scowled at him, but Max had already taken it upon himself to give Kohen a shove. "My boy's wicked smart." Except he said it with a thick Boston accent, and I guess I owed Chris, because without him forcing me to watch both movies they'd quoted, I would have been the only one left out of the jokes.

* * *

Eventually,Max and Hudson moved a few feet down the bar to talk to a group of girls. Max made them all laugh as he acted out a scenario. Hudson stood there too, but despite the attractive girl yapping away in front of him, he seemed far more interested in watching Hunter and me.

I looked away from him and focused instead on Melody and Kohen. They had become so entangled in each other that they ignored everyone else. My eyes couldn't help trailing Kohen's fingertips as they crawled along Melody's waist and then sprawled up her ribs. His other hand clutched the nape of her neck. The venue was so dark and crowded they probably thought no one noticed, but I did. They were a romantic movie I couldn't stop watching. I studied the way his hand gripped her thigh. She pressed against him, and that's when I looked away.

Unlike me, Hunter was oblivious to everyone else. He leaned against the bar and watched the crowd as he brought his cigarette to his lips every so often. His hands didn't flit across my skin or grip my thighs, and despite the fact that this was causing me an internal crisis, he appeared more content than ever. I couldn't help wondering if he ever even thought about it.

Before that night, I'd thought Hunter was a loner, not belonging anywhere, but as people moved past us, everyone nodded and slapped his hand. Hunter knew everyone. Based on greetings and conversations, some were older, while others attended high schools in nearby towns. A gigantic band of misfits. I felt as if I'd stepped into an alternative universe where popularity was thick eyeliner and poetic tattoos instead of football and unintelligence. It also wasn't lost on me that I couldn't even fit into the place meant for everyone who didn't belong anywhere else.

"I thought you said you were the grim reaper of friendships?"

Hunter grinned. "I said I'd ruin your friendships. I never said I didn't have friends."

I stared at him. In this alternative universe, Hunter would swerve into the school parking lot in his orange Range Rover with his friends hanging out the windows, their music loud and blaring. He'd saunter toward school, laughing and shoving, and as he lounged against the railings on the front steps, girls would scurry past him, blushing because he stood there, occupying space.

"I've never seen you play basketball at the park before," I said.

Franklin Park was two blocks from my house, and though I didn't frequent it much anymore, I still drove past it enough. Three basketball courts lined the street, and by now, I would have noticed Hunter's surliness on one of them.

His jaw hardened. "I don't play there."

I fiddled with the rim of my cup and tried not to feel offended by the finality in his voice. "Oh."

He sighed, pushing a hand through his hair, then turned his entire body toward me. "I used to hang around this kid, Victor. A few days after Scott moved into my house, Scott invited me and Victor to play basketball after school."

He paused to bring his cigarette to his lips, and when he exhaled, his gaze didn't leave me. "I knew Scott was a dick from school when our parents got together, but we'd never interacted much or anything. When we got to the park and separated into teams, he told me I was too much of a fag to play. I was so embarrassed I couldn't even bring myself to walk off the court."

People brushed past us, loud and boisterous, but Hunter was still. So still he might have been somewhere else altogether. "Victor and I had always played basketball at the park, but after that, everyone stopped playing whenever we showed up, whether Scott was there or not. Eventually, Victor went without me, and when I wasn't with him, they'd let him play."

He flicked his cigarette into the ashtray on the bar, finally dragging his gaze from me. "I play at Webster Park by the river." He glanced at my cup. "You need another?"

"What about your parents?" I asked.

Hunter's eyebrows furrowed. "What about them?"

"Well, I mean, don't they notice Scott being a wretched dick twenty-four seven?"

Hunter tipped his head back and laughed, but when he surfaced, his expression grew hollow. "My stepmom worships the ground he walks on, and my dad ..." He trailed off, his face darkening. "My dad is the only person on earth who despises me more than Scott does."

"Wait, but why?" I knew Hunter wasn't thrilled about living in the house at all, but I couldn't wrap my head around a villain worse than Scott. There are some absolutes in the world: you can't lick your elbow, you can't sneeze with your eyes open, and Scott Henderson is the antichrist.

He shrugged, the same way you shrugged when it was too futile to do anything else. "I don't know. I remind him of my mom, I'm a grave disappointment, I passed the green beans in the wrong direction at the dinner table ... who the fuck knows."

Scott Henderson was the antagonist of my story, but I hadn't before considered that maybe he wasn't Hunter's.