“Looks like Kelley is handling it.”
On the field, Brock and Kelley are in each other’s faces, and though I can’t hear what’s being said, I can tell from the tense set of his shoulders that Kelley is furious. When Brock gives Kelley yet another forceful shove, I’m off the bleachers and marching toward the middle of the field.
“Oh, shit!” Jesse claps his hands once and scrambles up behind me. “You sure fucked up now, man!”
“Shut up, J,” I hear Bailey say to him. He then starts humming Eye of the Tiger but promptly stops with an ooof. I’m betting Bailey elbowed him in the stomach. If I wasn’t prepping a speech in my head, I’d laugh.
I stomp up to where the guys are facing off, plant my feet, and cross my arms.
“Brock. I see you’ve met my friend, Kelley. Kelley, this is Brock.”
Brock turns his snarling face toward me, and a smarmy grin takes it over. The look turns my stomach and I resist the urge to snarl back.
“Hey, Ivy. How you been, baby?” He licks his lips, and it’s gross, but I maintain my poker face. I can practically feel Kelley’s anger emanating off of him, and I send a silent plea to whatever gods and goddesses are watching that he lets me handle this myself.
“I’m good, Brock. I’d ask you the same, but I don’t particularly care.” Jesse and Bailey stifle laughter behind me.
“Don’t be like that, babe. I know you regret the other night.” He takes a step toward me, but I hold my ground. I won’t be intimidated. I’m a fierce mountain lion of greatness, and he is an idiot man-child of sexually transmitted infections. “I would have showed you a real nice time.”
“No thank you, Brock. I like not having chlamydia.” I raise my voice and hear laughter coming from the teams. I almost forgot we had an audience on the field, and this makes Brock visibly angry.
“Whatever. I was slumming with you.”
I plant my hands on my hips and raise an eyebrow.
“Please,” I scoff. “Literally no one cares what you have to say, Brock. You’re full of crap and your ego is bruised so you’re lashing out. I know an insecure boy when I see one.”
He’s spitting mad, now.
“I wouldn’t touch your fat ass if you begged me.”
“I’m grateful for that. If you have sex the way you play soccer it would be a total waste of my time.”
“Oh yes she said it.” Jesse laughs out loud behind me. “You best walk off before she makes you cry.”
“Shut the fuck up,” Brock shouts at Jesse, which just makes Jesse laugh harder.
“Just go home, Brock, before you make a bigger fool of yourself,” I tell him with a sigh. “Nobody likes a sore loser.”
Kelley steps next to me then and throws his arm over my shoulder.
“Bye, Brock,” Kelley says with a death glare.
“This isn’t over,” Brock points his finger in Kelley’s face.
“Yes, it most definitely is,” I shake my head. “And make an appointment with campus health. Wouldn’t want your diseased dick to fall off.”
I turn and walk away with Kelley’s arm still slung over my shoulder and Jesse and Bailey trailing behind, still laughing.
“Ivy Jean Rivenbark,” Kelley says with a grin, “did I just hear you say dick?”
“Hush.” Kelley barks out a laugh and tightens his arm around me.
I press myself into Kelley’s side and pretend to ignore the heat coming from his bare skin. The way he smells of sweat, grass, and the nighttime air of early fall is a combination that I love, and I shiver. I flick my eyes to where the group of girls from earlier was standing and see that two of them are watching us leave, eyes fixed on Kelley, so I slide my arm around his waist, hook my thumb in the band of his shorts, and send the girls a small smile.
I know that I don’t have a claim on Kelley. I cannot, because that would suggest we are more than just friends, and we aren’t. We can’t be. But, well, that doesn’t mean I can’t seek comfort in our platonic affections while we’re both single. That’s all I’m doing. Friendly hugs and smiles. If those girls see it and get the wrong idea...well, that’s not my fault...
“Hey, V,” Jesse’s voice is suddenly serious, “I’m sorry I didn’t vet that douche better.”