22. Abel

Leaveit to Peris to find my one fucking hiding place.

We all need an escape, and he just keeps taking mine away.

My chest furls with a heavy anger, one that’s trapped against my sternum because I’m way too fucking high to do anything about it right now.

All I wanted was to fall to my knees and wrap my arms around his legs to keep him pinned against me, but I can’t do that. It falls way too close to needing him, to expecting things, and I need to slow shit down—and now.

It’s only sex, nothing more—and that’s all I want. I don’t need someone seeing anything deeper than what’s on the surface level. Especially not him.

My shoes slap loudly on the linoleum floors as I walk to my first block class, the sound reverberating through the empty common room. A few students linger at the tables with laptops open and hushed in hushed conversation. No one spares me a glance as I weave through tables and into the hallway. I glance at the purple lockers lining the walls, a long, endless block that blurs the longer I stare at it.

“Mr. Silver, so glad you finally decided to join us,” Ms. Ludwig says as I pull open the door to algebra. I lift my hand in a salute as I shuffle to my seat, head bowed so she can’t look me in the eyes.

When I finally plop down, I blow out a sigh of relief, head nearly rolling back as the weight settles, pulling me down with it.

“You fucking reek,” someone whisper-yells next to me. My head lifts slowly, eyes pulling in a dry blink.

“Abel, please drop your hood,” the teacher calls amidst her lecture and the squeak of the marker on the board.

“Sure thing,” I mumble as I brush it back, tucking my hair behind my ears.

Someone leans over me, arm waving in front of my face. I pull back with a frown when I hear a short burst of spritzes. “Maybe that will help so you don’t get suspended.”

I squint through the haze coating my eyeballs. “Sierra?”

“Correct. How stupid are you getting ripped at school? And on game day? You’re lucky we need you; otherwise, I’d be kicking your ass right now. And you’d be benched.”

I snort loudly, drawing the attention of a few people. I shrug off their gazes. “I forgot.”

“You—” She sucks in a breath, pink lips pursing. “You’re the one that vandalized Peris Baxter’s parking spot, aren’t you?”

My mouth falls open in surprise. The rush of cool air on my tongue reminds me of how fucking thirsty I am. I swallow a few times, but it only makes it worse. Each breath is so long and heavy, I feel my eyelids grow a bit heavier with each one.

“Why d’you say that?” I mumble as I rifle around in my bag. “Shit yeah,” I rasp when I find a bag of skittles. Tearing the red plastic open with my teeth, I drop back in my chair and dump some directly into my mouth. My mouth waters as I crunch on the candies, and my eyes fall closed on a hum.

“Because your fingers are stained pink, Abel. How are you going to get that off before the game tonight? Pink doesn’t exactly go with our uniforms.”

“Shit, really?” I ask through my mouthful, peeling my eyes open to stare down at my hands. I giggle at the streaks of pink caked into the creases of my skin and around my nail beds. A faint memory of smearing it across Lance’s coat flickers in and out.

“Yes, really.”

I continue chomping on my candy, quickly realizing what a bad idea it was to put so much in my mouth at once. Swallowing feels like choking, and I nearly blackout as I push it through my throat.

“Are you always such a mess?” Sierra asks as she hands over her water bottle. I take it with a grimace that’s supposed to be a smile but really doesn’t feel like one. The ice-cold water feels euphoric down my throat, and I finally breathe comfortably again—that is until I remember Peris’s hand in my hair, holding me up while I drank from his water bottle.

While he… fuck. While he took care of me.

“Yeah,” I rasp. “Pretty much.”

“Please tellme you have your uniform,” Sierra hisses in my ear as we walk toward the bathrooms.

“Uh, yeah, think so.” I swing my bag over my shoulder and unzip it as we pass through the common room. The entire basketball team is blocking the hall, forcing the girls in front of me to snake their way through to the bathrooms on the opposite end.

I glance up when it gets crowded, and my eyes find Peris immediately, still clad in his black slacks and white shirt, now unbuttoned at the collar and exposing part of his tanned chest. I nearly trip over my own feet and swallow my tongue when I catch sight of the deep scratches on his throat, around his clavicle, and down the center of his sternum.

“Jesus Christ,” I mutter, unable to look away. How he hears me through the echoing noise, I have no clue, but his eyes snap to mine, pupils black as night, encased in a forever beautiful shade of golden-green.

“Runt,” he acknowledges me with a lilt, hardened stare never leaving my face even as my attention is drawn back to the marks I left in his skin. The squad pulls through the crowd, turning the corner to disappear into the bathrooms down on the other side, but I’m still stuck in place.

“What?” he snaps, fat lips puffing out.

“Uh, what?” I mutter, finally ripping away from his throat. From the marks my nails left on him. Fuck me…

“Abel, Abel,” someone drawls to my left. I lift a brow, then smile at Peris’s best friend.

“Gabriel.” I crinkle my nose and wink.

He tsks loudly and wags his finger. “Nuh-uh. No flirting in front of Peris.”

My cheeks hurt from smiling so hard. “Not in front of him. Got it.”

Gabe blinks with wide eyes. “That’s not?—”

“Don’t you have somewhere to be?” Peris snaps, eyes never straying from mine. I shrug, but when I part my lips to reply, his head swivels toward Gabriel. “Hm?”

“Oh, me?” He points at himself. “Gotcha.” His curls bounce atop his head as he whirls around, making me giggle.

“Don’t laugh like that.”

I stop short. “Like what, Peris?”

“All cute and—and flirty. I’ve told you?—”

“Cute and flirty,” I deadpan. “It was just a laugh.”

“It was a giggle.” He enunciates the word like it makes a difference.

I scoff and drag my fingers through my hair before forgetting Sierra French braided it. I dislodge them, pulling out a few wayward strands that hang in front of my face. Peris’s eyes flick over my eyes, then down to my painted lips, which I purposely pucker before parting them to run my tongue along my teeth.

“Not sure how I feel about the purple, but squad rules.” I shrug. “But I do love the eye makeup. It’s pretty… isn’t it?” I ask, softening my voice at the end. It’s not merely an act. A small sliver of that pesky desperation for approval slipping through the cracks.

“What?” He shakes his head, staring intently at me. “Yeah,” he says gruffly, then blurts, “Did you cut your hair?”

My face cracks into a beaming smile. One that stretches my mouth so wide, my lips split at the corners. I stand on my tiptoes to throw my arms around Peris’s neck. “Thanks, baby. I did.” I pull back to peck a kiss to the tip of his nose. “I’ll see ya at the game. You’re gonna kick ass.” I jump back and twirl around, sashaying my ass even though it’s impossible to see through my baggy jeans.

As I round the corner, I catch Peris’s shocked, “What the fuck?” and Gabe’s echoing cackles.

“You’re so fucked, dude.”

Yeah—him and me both.