13. Under the Bleachers

Under the Bleachers

I toss and turn, unable to sleep. My mind keeps replaying the conversation with Sebastian—his binding, the way Kyla trapped him, the marks on his skin. It's like a constant loop in my head, and every time I try to close my eyes, it just plays again. I should have let it go, or at least let sleep take over, but instead, I find myself sitting up in bed, pulling out my old books from under the mattress, and flipping through the pages.

I need to know more about Binding Hexes. There has to be a way to break them. The thought that Sebastian—of all people—is trapped in a situation like that feels... wrong. He might be infuriating, but no one deserves that.

Hours pass, and I only manage to doze off for a brief moment before I'm jolted awake again. The early morning light filters through the blinds, and my body moves on autopilot through my morning routine. I shower, brush my teeth, and glare at my reflection, wondering how I'm supposed to figure out something that witches far more experienced than me have probably failed at.

I barely notice the clothes I throw on—something dark, naturally—and I skip the red stockings today, feeling too distracted to care. Everything feels like a blur until I hear a knock on my door.

Startled, I jump off my bed, only to trip over the ridiculously long blanket that's somehow ended up on the floor. I stumble, catching myself just in time, and curse under my breath as I straighten up. By the time I reach the door and swing it open, I'm still a little disheveled.

Standing there, with a perfectly timed smirk on his face, is Derek. "Wow, Zaria. You look a little bland without the stockings."

I blink, trying to process both his words and the fact that it's Derek at my door. "What are you doing here?"

He glances at his watch. "It's 10am."

I blink again. "And?"

"You said the next phase of your plan starts at 10am sharp," he reminds me, raising an eyebrow.

I swear under my breath, my mind racing. I glance around my room, completely unprepared. "Crap!"

Without wasting another second, I grab the nearest pair of shoes and shove them on. Locking my door in a hurry, I grab Derek's arm, dragging him down the hallway as fast as I can.

"Wait—what's the plan again?" Derek asks, his voice amused but clearly clueless.

"No time to explain!" I huff, pulling him along. "Just trust me."

He chuckles, easily keeping up with my pace. "Do I have a choice?"

"Not if you want to survive," I mutter, though I can't help the small smile creeping onto my face as we rush off toward whatever trouble Phase Two is about to bring.

As Derek and I dash across campus, my heart races—not just from the sprint but from the sheer anticipation of what comes next. We make our way toward the football field, ducking under the bleachers where Hank is already waiting, looking impatient as ever with his laptop balanced on his knees.

He raises an eyebrow as we approach. "You know, I have better things to do than hang out in a football field on a Saturday morning."

"Sorry," I huff, still catching my breath. "Lost track of time."

Derek looks out onto the field, where football practice is in full swing, and it hits him. "Oh, right. Saturday morning practice... forgot that was a thing."

Underneath the bleachers, we have the perfect view—a spy's dream, really. The metal framework creaks slightly as we settle in, the scent of freshly cut grass mingling with sweat and whatever weird combination of teenage body spray is floating in the air. From here, I can see the cheer squad's bags lined up in a neat little row, like they're the prized possessions of a bizarre handbag display. You know, because nothing says "team spirit" like a pile of overpriced accessories.

Of course, it's not just the bags we're watching. No, that would be too easy. Sitting amongst the pile of cheerleader paraphernalia are the boyfriends, dutifully playing watchdogs, as if the greatest threat on this field isn't the toxic blend of arrogance and aggression coming from the football players. And who's the most ridiculous of them all? Naturally, it's Sebastian.

But unlike the rest of the guys, who are pretending to be interested in football or keeping the other guys away from their girls, Sebastian couldn't look more uninterested if he tried. He's practically lounging, completely oblivious to the chaos around him, totally absorbed in a book. A book , of all things. Because, of course, in the middle of all the testosterone and cheerleader energy, Sebastian is the one guy cool enough to sit back and casually read like he's in a coffee shop, not on the bleachers of a Saturday morning football practice.

I stare for a second longer than I should, and for a brief, fleeting moment, I think to myself, why is that so hot? A guy with a book? Ugh, Zaria, get it together. There's nothing attractive about him being able to completely ignore the world around him while looking all broody and mysterious. Nope. Not hot at all.

I shake my head, forcing myself to focus on the task at hand.

"Okay," I whisper to Derek, "we need to get Kyla's phone."

Derek glances toward Sebastian, who's practically sitting on top of the bags. "Yeah, that's gonna be a lot harder with her vampire boyfriend parked right there."

I smirk. "I'll get it."

Derek looks skeptical but shrugs. "Your funeral."

With a deep breath, I creep forward, making sure to stay hidden under the bleachers as I approach Sebastian from below. "Sebastian," I whisper.

Without looking up from his book, he responds instantly. "You want her phone?"

I blink, taken aback. "How did you know?"

Sebastian's lips quirk into a small smirk, though he still doesn't take his eyes off the page. "Lucky for you, all the shifters are out on the field. I'm the only vampire on the bleachers today. Anyone else with sensitive hearing would've caught your whole plan."

I groan, but I can't argue with him. "Are you gonna help or not?"

Without hesitation, he reaches into Kyla's bag, pulls out her phone, and passes it through the bleacher slats to me. "Be quick."

I grab the phone and rush back to Hank, who's waiting with his laptop open. He plugs the phone in and taps a few keys, his fingers moving fast over the keyboard. After a moment, he unplugs the phone and hands it back to me.

"Got it. Now hand it back before anyone notices," Hank mutters.

I hurry back to Sebastian, holding the phone up through the bleachers. As he takes it, our fingers brush for just a second, and I feel a strange jolt—like a spark of static. It throws me off for a moment, but I quickly shove the feeling down, chalking it up to adrenaline.

Sebastian slides the phone back into Kyla's bag, still not taking his eyes off his book. "Good luck, Z."

I nod, even though he can't see me, and retreat back under the bleachers. Hank stands up, slinging his laptop bag over his shoulder.

"Let's move to the cafeteria," he suggests. "Too many prying eyes here."

We find a booth at the café, and of course, Derek slides in right beside me. Lately, he's been a little… touchier than usual. I don't know why, but he's definitely a bit closer than necessary, like he's using me for body heat or something. Maybe it's a "being a good friend" thing, or maybe it's something else. Either way, I'm not sure I want to figure it out right now.

Hank, on the other hand, has no time for subtlety. He pulls out this second phone—close enough to Kyla's, but not quite the real deal—and plugs it into his laptop. His fingers fly across the keyboard in a blur, tapping away like this is just another day hacking into someone's life. Which, knowing Hank, it probably is.

After a few moments, he unplugs the phone and hands it to me like it's no big deal. "There. It's basically a clone of Kyla's phone. Whatever her phone does, this one will, too. But anything you do? She'll never know. You're completely off her radar."

I grin, holding the phone like it's a golden ticket. "Hank, you're a genius."

"Yeah, yeah, I know." He stands up, slinging his laptop bag over his shoulder. "I'm outta here. Plausible deniability, Z. I was never here." With that, he's gone, leaving me and Derek in the booth. And I mean really in the booth, because Derek's still practically glued to my side.

"So," he asks, leaning in, "what's the plan, exactly?"

I shrug, trying to act casual, even though my brain is already ten steps ahead. "Not much. Just a few… accidental texts to the wrong people. I figure Kyla will stick her foot in her own mouth, so I don't need to make anything up. Just gotta wait for her to slip."

Derek's brow lifts, and he looks genuinely impressed. "That's... actually really smart. You're not spreading rumors, just making sure the truth lands in the right hands."

I feel a flutter in my chest—what is that? Oh, right. It's someone complimenting my brain for once. "Thanks," I mumble, feeling my face heat up just a little. I shift, making it clear I'm ready to get out of the booth. "I've still got a lot to write if I don't want to end up repeating this year. So…"

But Derek doesn't move. He just sits there, staring at me like I'm some kind of puzzle he's trying to figure out. "Wait a minute," he says softly, his voice quieter than usual. "Just… wait."

I blink, completely thrown off by his tone. "Uh… okay? What's up?"

"I just… wanted to look at you for a second."

What? My brain screeches to a halt. This is Derek. Derek , the guy who throws insults at me like confetti, the guy I've known forever. And now he's... looking at me? I feel a flush crawl up my neck, and, naturally, my defense mechanism kicks in. "Well, congrats, you've seen me. Satisfied?"

He doesn't even flinch at the jab. Instead, he just smiles, and that throws me even more. I open my mouth to say something else, but then I remember what's been bothering me since last night. Sam. I need to tell him.

"Can I ask you something?" I say, my voice a little more serious than before.

Derek's expression shifts, concern flickering in his eyes. "Of course. What's up?"

"Did you… know about Sam? About her… other boyfriends?"

I expect shock, maybe confusion. Instead, he just nods, like it's old news. "Yeah. I've known for a while."

I blink. "Wait, what? I only found out last night. How long have you known?"

He sighs, leaning back against the booth, his hands resting in his lap like this is just another conversation about the weather. "Months. That's why I stopped trying."

I frown, still trying to piece this together. "That's not what she told me. Sam said she started seeing other guys because you stopped trying."

He lets out a humorless laugh, shaking his head. "It's not that simple. I tried for a while, but… it's hard to keep pretending you care when you're not in love with them. And when you know they're sleeping around, it gets even harder to..."

I arch an eyebrow, feeling my sarcasm flare up. "Hard to what?"

Derek rubs the back of his neck, looking sheepish for the first time. "Hard to stay hard , you know? And let me tell you, it's not fun being accused of erectile dysfunction by a witch." I burst out laughing, the sound filling the booth before I can stop myself. Derek joins in, and for a moment, it's like all the awkwardness disappears in a cloud of ridiculousness. "I don't, by the way," he adds between laughs, trying to defend himself. "I just didn't find her personality attractive anymore."

I'm still giggling, tears stinging my eyes. "Personality? Since when do guys need to find a girl's personality attractive to get it up?"

He shrugs, a grin plastered across his face. "Guess it's a big thing for me."

I wipe away a tear, still shaking my head. "Well, good for you, Derek. I didn't realize you had standards ."

The laughter dies down, but the mood between us is lighter now. For a second, I forget about Kyla, about my grimoire, about everything. It's just easy—surprisingly easy—with Derek, and maybe that's what I needed all along. Derek is still grinning from our shared laughter, but then something changes in his expression—like he's bracing himself for something big. I can practically see the wheels turning in his head. He runs a hand through his hair, looking almost nervous. Which is strange because Derek doesn't get nervous.

"Z, I need to… I need to tell you something," he says, his voice dropping a little, suddenly serious.

I raise an eyebrow. "Uh-oh. This sounds ominous. What did you do? Break another bone pretending to fumble during basketball?"

He chuckles, but it's brief. His eyes meet mine, and there's something in them that makes me stop joking. "No, it's nothing like that. It's just… I've been thinking. And it's better that I'm honest with you."

My stomach does a little flip. I have no idea what's coming, but the look on his face tells me it's going to be heavy. I nod slowly. "Okay… honesty is good. I like honesty."

He rubs the back of his neck, struggling to find the words. "I know you've got your no-dating-until-after-graduation thing, and honestly, I respect the hell out of that. I really do. I admire your focus and restraint."

"Uh-huh," I murmur, my brain already starting to jump to conclusions, though I can't piece them together just yet.

"But the truth is…" He takes a deep breath. "I've loved you for a while now, Zaria. And every day it gets harder. Not seeing you, not telling you."

My brain does a full stop. Like, full system malfunction. Loved me?

"Derek… what?" I stammer, completely thrown off balance. "Maybe you just think it's love, but it's—maybe it's just a crush. It'll pass."

He shakes his head, looking a little sheepish, but his eyes are earnest. "No. I know it's not just a crush. It's… my wolf."

"Your wolf?" I ask, suddenly even more confused. "What about your wolf?"

Derek hesitates for a second, but then he leans in, his voice softer, more serious than I've ever heard him. "Whenever I'm near you, my wolf… he just wants to reach out and mark you. And I'm telling you all this, but I don't expect anything from you, Z. I just… I want to be around you. If that's okay."

My heart skips a beat, and then another. Mark me? It takes a moment for it to sink in, but when it does, I'm hit with the realization—if his wolf wants to mark me, then that means... I'm his mate.

I stare at him, my mind racing. He's known this, and he's kept it to himself this whole time. How long has he been feeling like this? And why didn't he say anything sooner?

There's a moment of silence, where I can see the uncertainty in his eyes, and before I can think about it too hard, I lean in and wrap him in a tight, sideways hug. My arms loop around his neck, pulling him close.

I take a deep breath, my heart pounding in my chest as I look at Derek. There's something so raw, so vulnerable in his expression that it makes my own defenses crumble. I can't hide behind sarcasm right now. He deserves more than that. He deserves… everything.

"You deserve someone to love you," I whisper, my voice steady, though my heart feels like it's racing. "Someone who can be there for you, fully. And I want to be that person. I really do. But you don't deserve someone whose mind is split in a million directions, with half of it focused on revenge against Kyla." I feel this overwhelming urge to make him understand. "I want to give you what you deserve, Derek. But right now… I'm not fully here. I need to get this whole thing with Kyla out of the way first. Then, when that's done, I can be with you. Completely. No distractions, no divided attention. You don't have to wait until after graduation, but just… let me deal with this first. And then, we'll go on a date, or whatever it is fiends like us do these days."

I pull back slightly, hoping for a smile, some kind of reaction that tells me he's okay with waiting. But what happens next takes me completely by surprise.

In one swift motion, Derek grabs the back of my neck, pulling me into a kiss so deep and so full of emotion that it sends a shock through my entire body. It's not the kind of kiss you forget—there's something raw, something real in the way our lips meet, and for a moment, everything else falls away. The world, Kyla, the mess that is my life—none of it matters.

It's just me and Derek.

When he finally pulls back, I'm left breathless, my heart hammering in my chest, my mind spinning. I've never felt anything like that before. It's like every nerve in my body has been lit on fire, and for a split second, I forget how to speak.

He looks at me with that same intensity, his voice low and sure. "I'll wait however long you want, Z. I'll be here."

And just like that, everything shifts. It's not just Derek, not just the banter and the teasing. There's something deeper between us now, something I can't ignore. Something I don't want to ignore.