Chapter Twenty-Six
Gemma
Lacrosse was probably the most entertaining thing I had ever watched. The way each player chased after a ball with unyielding determination on their faces, kicking up mud and grass with their heavy strides down from one end of the field to the other. The strength in their arms as they used their stick for protection and what seemed to be a sort of weapon, beckoning the ball to a certain side of the field.
It was fascinating. The whole experience. From sitting on the bleachers in my favorite black jeans and borrowed St. Mary’s lacrosse shirt from Sloane, with two of my new friends on each side of me, to the sounds of other people clapping and cheering in the background and whistles being blown that the game was coming to an end. It was all so…normal. The smallest seed of happiness planted itself inside of me, and it was hard to fight its sprout as Sloane and Mercedes dragged me toward the chain-link fence separating the field from the bleachers.
“What are we doing?” I asked as their expressions were set on the field toward the left side. I followed their gazes and watched as a bunch of guys whipped off their helmets and wiped away the sweat dotting their foreheads.
Mercedes sighed wistfully as she rested her chin under her hand. She leaned against the wet fence without looking at me. “Checking out Washington High players.”
“Oh,” I answered, looking at each and every one.
Sloane snorted out a laugh. “Pretty sure Gemma isn’t interested in Washington’s players, Mer.”
I sucked in my bottom lip, shrugging. “They’re okay, I guess.” Then my gaze wandered over to St. Mary’s side of the field, and I immediately started comparing the two teams.
Aside from both teams wearing jerseys, albeit different colors, and being damp from sweat and the short spurt of rain we’d gotten halfway through the game, they were nothing alike. It seemed our guys were taller, stronger, and broader. Wide shoulders, chins held high. Each and every last one of them—even the few that I didn’t recognize—looked determined and resolute. Determined to do what? I wasn’t sure, as they?
?d already won the game.
My heart flipped when I saw Isaiah standing toward the end of their bench, talking with Cade, Brantley, and Shiner. He ran a hand through the sweaty ends of his dark hair, shaking it out slowly. Then, I ceased to exist altogether when he snaked a hand up underneath his jersey, showing off a stomach lined with hard muscles. His head tipped backward as if he were massaging a shoulder muscle or something, and then he slowly twisted his neck, making his well-defined Adam’s apple bob up and down.
My throat closed. My legs prickled with heat. He was… He was really, really attractive. I felt a slight crack in my chest as I continued to stare. Isaiah was so beautiful that it was scary to look at him. In the few months at Wellington Prep, I’d hardly noticed any of the guys because I was too busy taking in everything else that was so new to me. I was in overdrive. But here? Away from my home and that town? I noticed everything, and the tingling in my core did not go undetected.
“Gemma!” Sloane’s tone was loud but playful as I snapped my attention to her. I shoved a thick piece of brown hair behind my ear, feeling the heat sear my skin. A gust of cool, moist air wafted around us, but it didn’t cool me down in the slightest.
“What?” I asked.
She and Mercedes both laughed but quickly stopped as wet footprints began to approach. We all turned our attention to a group of guys who began to walk up the muddy field, still in their hunter-green uniforms with smirks gracing their faces.
“Hey.” One of them nodded to us as he seemed to lead the pack. “Did you babes enjoy the game?”
“We sure did,” someone said from behind us. “You boys played a good game.”
The leader of the pack, with his damp blond hair, looked over our heads, and his eyes lit up.
“Thank you, beautiful.” The interest in his voice was totally obvious, even to me. Sloane, Mercedes, and I all turned around to see who he was talking to.
“Figures,” Sloane mumbled, turning her back to Callie. “She’s already fucked everyone at this school, so she has to start scouting newcomers.”
I whispered back to Sloane, even though she had no issues verbally insulting Callie. “What’s the point if they just up and leave after the game, though?”
Mercedes answered for her. “She’s just looking for a quickie, probably. Callie has no self-worth. She uses guys and sex to make herself feel better.” She paused before pulling herself out of my space. “I’m not judging...that’s just what it seems like, anyway.”
And before we knew it, the fair-skinned, blue-eyed Washington High player was jumping over the fence, and he and Callie were sneaking off behind the bleachers. The unwanted feeling of curiosity tickled the back of my brain as I turned back around. I wondered for a fleeting moment what it would be like to be her. To be a girl who wasn’t afraid of what it felt like to be with a guy like that. I wasn’t even sure what it felt like to kiss someone…well, not really. Not a guy I wanted to kiss, at least. Not a guy who made my skin tingle with something enticing…like Isaiah.
Sloane and Mercedes moved down to the group of guys that were still standing near the fence, and I followed reluctantly, curious to see them in action. My mouth was glued shut as Sloane took a piece of her hair and wrapped it around her finger, laughing at something one of the players whispered in her ear, and Mercedes blushed as a shy smile found her lips. I felt the jealous snake curl around my neck. I wanted to do what they were doing: garnering the attention of guys, flirting, all of it. I wanted that. I wanted to be comfortable enough with myself to do what they were doing. Would I? Could I?
My heart raced as I watched as one of the boys who had dark-brown hair and a scruffy jaw began to approach me. I started to panic, looking at Sloane and Mercedes for assistance, but then someone cleared their throat. Isaiah. I bristled at the excitement that came with seeing him so close. When did he walk up here?
“What are you doing, Graves?” He cocked an eyebrow as the sentence effortlessly flew from his mouth but dropped it when he moved his attention over to me. “Hey, Gemma. Did you enjoy the game?”
Mercedes and Sloane stopped talking mid-flirt and stared a hole in the side of my head. Cade looked at Isaiah suspiciously, and I was suddenly aware of everyone’s eyes on me. Again.
Isaiah’s eyes were soft and inviting, but I saw the same look in them as I had earlier when he’d asked me to come to the game. It was as if he was conflicted about something. The blue color was warm, like an ocean in the middle of summer, but cold too. Glacial. The words were unspoken, but they were lingering in the air with our silent exchange. Trust me. My feet shuffled along the sidewalk, and I inched closer to the fence separating us. He was still sporting his jersey, although the white fabric was dotted with specks of grass stains and mud. His lip tipped upward, his eyes exuding the smallest flicker of approval before he glanced at the Washington High player. Then, he quickly whipped his attention to the bleachers behind my shoulder and narrowed his eyes.
Confusion filled me as something passed over Isaiah’s face. Cade moved closer, and his gaze followed Isaiah’s, eyes hardening at the last second. Just as I began to turn around to see what they were glaring at, Isaiah rested his elbows on the metal rod between us. His mouth twitched as he leaned his head beside mine, pushing my thick hair, which was now wavy from the moisture in the air, off my shoulder. I squeaked out a surprised sound as my heart thudded to the ground when Isaiah’s hand crept into the back pocket of my black skinnies. My entire body hummed as a jolt ran down my leg and back up to my heart. I liked it when he touched me.