He pulls away and his eyes are dark, but the curve of his smirk is amused.
I swallow. “What was that for?”
“To shut you up. It seems to be the only thing that works.” He starts the car and tosses his arm over my seat, presumably to look over his shoulder before backing out. But he winces suddenly, making a pained sound as he pulls it back. “Fuck.”
“Your shoulder?” I realize, mouth pulling into a frown. “That... that doesn’t sound good. Are you working it too hard?”
“Of course I’m not.” But his mouth is set into a thin, grim line as he pulls out of the parking space. “It’s nothing. Just a little tight.”
He peels out of the parking lot, tires squealing. I hold onto my seat like my life depends on it, but really, I just need to do something with my hands. My heart thunders wildly in my chest and I know it’s more about the kiss than the fast driving.
If tonight showed me anything, it’s that Hamilton Bates may know me better than anyone else at this school.
And that’s more terrifying than anything else.
“Holden!” a voice calls across the cafeteria. “Holden McGroin! You down there?”
“Nope,” another voice replies, “but I saw him with Jenny Tayla a few minutes ago.”
A ripple of laughter passes down the tables and I see two of my teammates high five. It’s been like this for two days, ever since the print shop delivered five boxes of shirts to the natatorium and Hamilton and I passed them out to our stunned and delighted teammates.
When there were two left, Hamilton handed one to me and pulled the other over his ripped, muscular upper body. He turned and I saw written across his broad shoulders, “Master Bates.”
I looked down at my own. “Ivana B Cumming. Seriously?” I asked, unable to smother a laugh.
“It was that or Helda Dick.” He shrugged but I knew he thought he was hilarious. The truth is that he kinda is. Who knew?
The most impressive part of it all was that Hamilton didn’t take credit. We’d handed them out together and ultimately, as much as I hated to admit it, he was right. The kids looked at me differently after they realized I had a sense of humor about their bullshit. If it’d been a test, then I passed.
“I still can’t believe you did that,” Tyson says from across the lunch table. “I thought Coach James was going to have a heart attack.”
“Me too,” I laugh, “but he was pretty cool about it.”
He did make Hamilton and I swim an extra 200 for being smart-asses, but all in all, I think he’s just happy to see Hamilton and I working together. He did make it clear we’re not allowed to wear the shirts anywhere but at practice. It’s not the kind of joke other schools or the officials would find amusing.
“Oh, I wanted to ask you something,” Tyson pipes up.
“Yeah?” I scrape the remains of my yogurt out of the container. “What’s up?”
“I have this diving competition on Saturday afternoon. My girlfriend is coming and I kind of wanted you to meet her.”
I realize this must be the girl from the homecoming pictures. “Aw, you want me to meet your girlfriend?”
“She’s been bugging me about introducing her to some kids from school. You’re really my only friend so far.”
I pause, considering. “Is she from Northridge, because—”
“No no no,” he says quickly. “She goes to Holy Innocence. She’s a sweet little Catholic girl.” His grin is wicked.
I point to his chest. “Is that why you wear the cross?”
He touches the charm around his neck. “Kind of. Her mother likes it.”
I gather my trash and stand, deciding, “l guess I can come after I do my detention hours. Other than that, it’s not like I have a huge social calendar to rearrange.”
“Awesome—not about your detention or lack of social life—but because you’re coming,” he says, wrapping his arm around me and giving me a tight squeeze. I start across the cafeteria and look up to see Hamilton watching me, and even though his expression is perfectly blank and aloof, the intensity of his gaze trips me up. Literally. I fumble my yogurt container—which I catch—but the spoon falls, skittering across the floor and echoing loudly around the room. The universe being the cruel mistress that she is, it lands two feet from where Hamilton sits.
“Crap,” I mutter, feeling all the eyes in the room suddenly shifting to me.