Devil May Care (Boys of Preston Prep 1)

“Coach,” I start, trying to regain some semblance of composure, because I have to. I have to fix this. “I understand where you’re coming from. I do. But is there anything, anything—"

“Bates, I’ve spoken to the headmaster and some of the other faculty, and we all agree. It’s time for this feud to settle down. It’s lasted for months and it’s affecting the quality of life at Preston for students and teachers alike.”

“With all due respect,” Gwendolyn finally speaks up, “Bates isn’t the only problem I have at this school.”

“I’m aware,” he gives her a sympathetic look, before shifting his gaze on me. “As much as I hate to admit it—Hamilton, you have a lot of influence with the student body. They’re looking to you for cues. It’s a power structure I’m not a fan of, but it’s how the culture of this school operates. You have power here.”

It sounds like a compliment. I’m not sure it is.

“Coach...” Doing this in front of Coach James is humiliating enough, but Adams having to see the way I beg him with my eyes is just a cherry on top of this shit cake. “I have less power than you think.”

“You have enough,” he argues. “And I think it’s time you use it for something worthwhile. Nothing changes if you don’t agree to get along and work together. You’re both gifted students and skilled athletes. You can achieve so much more together than divided.” He sighs, shaking his head at the open door, where the team is still milling around the halls. “I know it’s more complicated than that, which is why I’m giving you this chance.

You can blame me for making you work together, if that makes this easier on you. Or you can walk away. It’s up to you.” He grabs his clipboard. “Let me know before practice tomorrow, what you decide.”

He walks out of the room, a heavy silence falling between the two of us. Anger burns under my skin, but hotter than the anger burns the bone-deep shame of failure. It should have been guaranteed. I should have been so good, so proficient, that there was no question. I should have had this shit in the bag. And now my best-case scenario is coming in tied with someone who doesn’t even belong here. This is not what I want. It’s not what my father will want.

But walking away from the position would be worse, wouldn’t it? I need it for my applications. For my pride. Even if I have to share it with a she-witch in the process, it’s still...

It’s still something.

“Look, Adams…” I start, trying to figure out how in the hell I’m supposed to talk her into something I don’t even believe in.

“I ain’t looking at shit.” she replies plainly. “This is going to be a hard pass for me. You can forget it.”

“Let’s talk about this—"

She storms out of the room, leaving me standing there like a fool.

I swallow down a new swell of anger and follow her out. I watch as she ducks into the girls’ locker room and pause for a hot second, dithering only a moment before following her in. A few girls are still in there, all dressed, just gathering their things. They gape at me intruding on their space.

I bark, “Leave.”

They scurry out like mice, leaving the two of us alone.

Gwendolyn breathes out a dark laugh. “Nice show of leadership, already treating people like minions. Heil Bates.”

She gives me a Nazi salute.

I will myself not to lose my shit, instead sweeping a sneering gaze down her body. “Who’s being the childish, entitled toddler now?”

“I can’t believe you seriously want me to do this,” she says, readjusting her towel around her narrow waist. “No, actually, it makes perfect sense. You need to be in control, even if that means sharing it with me. Mostly because you think you can control me, too. But I already have to spend my Saturdays covering for your ass. I have no interest in taking on your half of this assignment, too—all so you can claim on your college applications that you did all the work. And,” she continues haughtily, “don’t even try to pretend this is going to change anything. We both know things will be business as usual, only instead of just making everyone ignore me, you’ll probably get the other swimmers to treat me like dirt, and then your flunkies will have new and interesting opportunities to mock me behind my back—or worse—to my face.”

I shake my head, laughing bitterly. “God, you’re so delusional.”

She rests her hands on her hips. “How am I the delusional one?”

“How am I the control freak?” I gesture to her. “Your entire life is about controlling everyone and everything you meet. Look at you, you couldn’t even let me get in trouble for blowing off detention the other day. God forbid Dean Dewey think you let a situation—let me—get out of hand. Even the twins. You hover over them like a motherfucking hen, as if they can’t find their own damn classroom without your careful guiding hand.” I grin cruelly, fueled and fired up, ready to burn it all down. “And you know what else? Sky. Yeah, I said her name. You probably baby her, too, don’t you? It’s obvious enough you blame yourself for what happened to her, despite not even being there. Because Gwen must be all-knowing and all-powerful. That’s why you were so bent on blaming the Devils. Because if that whole mess had been nothing more than her own decision, that would mean you never had control to begin with.”

I have no time to react. It’s like one second she’s standing there getting redder and redder, and the next, my head is whipping to the side, face stinging. The sound of her palm slapping against my cheek echoes off the tile walls with a hard crack.

My tongue slips out to nurse the spot where my tooth has punctured the skin. The bright, coppery taste of blood fills my mouth, but I don’t flinch. I just look right into her eyes, wide with a mixture of shock and horror, and step closer, until our faces are inches apart.

My heart bangs a dark, enraged rhythm against my ribcage when I whisper, “How does it feel to lose control?”

I expect her to hurt me again, and I wonder what it’s going to be. Maybe a punch this time, maybe even a knee to the groin. I’m ready for it, whatever it is.

The push is only briefly amusing, her two wide palms coming up to my chest and shoving me down onto the bench behind me. Her towel slides off and she’s standing before me in nothing but the thin Lycra of her swimsuit, so understandably, my brain goes kind of fuzzy at the edges.