He stepped forward, so did I. I wasn't shying away from him gloating his win in my face along with the circle he abandoned. He wasn't physically tough, not enough to carry his constant need to challenge everyone around him. His team did that for him. Their job was creating clear paths to the goal, keeping the contact of the sport away from him.
I didn't challenge anyone. Why would a king fight a knight?
I was so close I could see his skin glistening from the sweat of the game and his eyes almost burning an ember color. There was a red hue circling his pupils, and his fists clenched as the only parts of him capable of anger, while others were dormant.
I wasn't backing down. Every part of me was pissed off and ready to fight at all times.
Nyx shouted from the sidelines, making Caellum break his focus on me.
“Bolton, get to the damn showers already!”
He knew what he was doing when he shouted our way. He never spoke without thinking. He never actually spoke without it meaning something so much deeper.
I watched him fold his arms, standing firm, until I dropped whatever bullshit was between us.
I made sure I pushed my shoulder into his aggressively, letting the padding of my gear take him off guard. I felt satisfied walking away and shouting, “New Girl!” without looking behind me. My lips were pursed tightly together hoping she would just listen for once, without forcing me to overdose on sarcasm.
When she jogged to catch up to my side, I finally let out an exhale.
Of course she needed to be equal. God forbid she trail behind me like everyone else.
This girl was constant trouble, torture, and now Caellum knew that too.
He wasn't going to let this go; he felt the same spark.
I wanted to banish her from my kingdom, but now I was forced to protect her.
She followed me into the tunnel leading to the locker room. I hadn't realized as I threw my helmet against the cement wall, waiting for it to crack, when she yipped in a way that girls do with loud sounds. So easily shaken. I turned around already pulling off my pads.
“This is the guys’ locker room, New Girl… Is that the reputation you want?”
She leaned against the wall, her Doc Martens pressing into the concrete. “I let Billy kiss me in eighth grade when we lived in Georgia. Gwendolyn didn't approve, so she told the whole school I slept with him. In a week, I was the youngest whore that town had seen. So been there, done that.”
I held my jersey and pads in my hand, completely shirtless and comfortable. Life before this was filled with gods—literally, the most perfect race ever created.
This body I was stuck in was nothing in comparison to the beauty I had seen before. I was a sliver of the perfect I once was. I could tell she was accustomed to this form, human, when her eyes trailed down my abs, and her lips parted only slightly, like I was too much to take in before she forced her eyes down.
“Gwendolyn was a jealous bitch.”
She smiled without any cleverness to go with it, and I saw something I hadn't before. I didn't know how to put it into words as I squinted in her direction, trying to place it.
Common ground?
She was as lonely as I was?
I was finally seeing her, Arianna, instead of the new girl I despised. None of that was real. The sarcasm, the clever smiles, the taste for trouble, and pissing people off on purpose was how she protected herself. Now I wanted to know why.
Why did New Girl need to protect herself?
I didn't pry. I was a lot of things, but greedy wasn't one of them. Not today. We were both wounded from our own losses.
I threw my pads in the bin at the door and walked over to my locker. I left it open, letting the door of my locker cover my gaze towards her. Her eyes took it all in, as she pushed her back against the wall closest to the exit.
“Unless you're offering to shower with me, I'd get out of here.”
I watched her tawny complex turn red with my words, and she shifted almost uncomfortably. She gave me all the clues to figuring her out without knowing it. I kicked off my cleats and stood in front of my locker. Facing Arianna, I came to terms with replacing her nickname with her actual name. New girl didn't seem to fit anymore.
I waited to continue to strip until she safely left the room. The locker room was heavy with hot air reacting to our awkwardness at my own sarcasm.
For a brief moment, I debated if she would have stayed if I simply made a move. Instead, I chose to belittle her like I did everyone else.
Arianna
I tried to ask Luna who the guy was at the game before we left the bathroom together. Kate was busy re-applying her gloss, even though she wasn't trying to allure any boys. She had Austin—a drop dead gorgeous and completely nice boyfriend. I saw him even hold her purse before we came into the bathroom.
Who does that?
He was too nice for Kate. Maybe he was anchored down to her humility buried way down deep, under all the pink.
Luna stayed quiet, like she hadn't heard me, and I waited, like she wasn't avoiding answering me, while I tapped my fingers against the counter, impatiently waiting.
Kate let out a labored, yet annoyed sigh, before her hand dropped from primping herself. “Caellum, okay? Jesus. Nosey much?”
I had nothing to adjust in the mirror. I was comfortable in my jeans, a t-shirt, and boots. Comfortable meant not having to stress, and using setting spray took care of the rest.
“And? That's all? Obviously they have beef.”
She didn't even ask who or wait for clarification when she spun around and jumped up more gracefully than I walked to sit on the counter top.
“You know he's gonna kill you for prying into his business, right?”
I looked at her like I was still waiting for more, and now I was insatiable for the answers.
She actually rolled her eyes at me before she spoke, “Bad blood. It's a real Taylor Swift song. He used to go here, was Bolton’s best friend, and now he's not.”
Luna was finally paying attention only to snub Kate for spilling the beans. I didn't see the big deal, but maybe there was more history than my vagabond life was used to.
I dropped it, not asking anymore. I let it mull over in my mind, fermenting and letting it grow on me.
We headed back into the pizzeria on campus. I knew I was in a whole new world of rich when the boarding school had a pizza place on campus and opened for after game celebrations.
No one was actually celebrating; the boys were recovering.
I slid into the corner booth big enough for all of us. I was sandwiched between Luna and Nyx. My eyes were searching for Bolton, but came up empty.
“Wasting your time, sweetheart. He doesn't come here,” Nyx spat out, in a too-exhausted-for-words kind of way. His Australian accent really made even insults sound sweet.
I watched him pull a nip of vodka out from his jacket pocket and pour it into his soda expertly. I was sure no one else even saw him do it. I popped an eyebrow at his actions, wondering too many things to articulate quickly.
He put the empty nip back in his pocket and stirred in the vodka. “New Girl, I can see the judgment.”
I stayed silent, he was just as intense as Bolton, maybe more explosive, and less calculated.
He continued, “It's a Friday night. We lost. Do I really need to make more excuses?”
The two trays of pizza came, and I shifted focus, letting him have his secrets… for now.