That wiggle in my stomach turns into a knot.
I’m being ridiculous. Saint wouldn’t hurt Liam.
Right?
4
“Saint!” I snap, racing down the hallway to catch up to him.
To my surprise, he stops and looks back at me. He’s alone, and since there’s a green Adidas bag slung over his shoulder, he’s no doubt heading to track practice. Which is a relief because I’d feel weird asking him my question with Gabe floating around like the buff, ginger second coming of Gretchen Wieners.
“What?” he growls, pulling out one of his earbuds, as I come to a halt in front of him.
I focus down to the earbud in his palm for a moment, where I can hear “Don’t Fear the Reaper” blasting from it, before glancing up at him imploringly.
“I have a question for you, and I want you to be completely honest with me.”
He gives me an amused little smile. “You can ask your question, and I’ll answer however I see fit.” He waves his hand for me to continue, and I can barely stop myself from rolling my eyes. Why does he have to be so difficult all the time?
“Where’s Liam?” I demand.
“What are you talking about?”
I purse my lips. “This is the second day in a row he hasn’t been in any of our classes. I’m getting worried. Is he sick or something?”
To my utter frustration, he just sloughs off a lame shrug. “Why do you care so much?”
“Are you serious?” I hiss. “Why wouldn’t I care? Liam’s my friend.”
“Really?” He snorts. “Lord Friendzone is your … friend. I would never have guessed it.”
“Is that why he’s missing?” It’s a bold question, but I have a better chance of getting a straight answer from him if I’m direct.
His eyes shoot daggers at me, and he steps closer, cocking his blond head as he sizes me up. “What exactly are you accusing me of, Mallory?”
“I’m not sure. Am I accusing you of something?”
He chuckles, but it’s dark and there’s no humor whatsoever in the sound.
“Tread carefully, little masochist,” he murmurs. “You don’t want to say things you’ll come to regret now, do you?”
I ball my hands into fists by my side, my nails digging painfully into my flesh. “I don’t regret shit except meeting you, asshole. If you know where he is, just tell me. No need to make it difficult.”
“But you said we were done, remember?” Leaning down, he chucks me under the chin and grins. “So why the fuck would I give you anything?”
Putting his earbud back in, he turns from me and walks away, and I just gawk at his wide back in disbelief. The blatant way he ignored my questions is both infuriating and troubling. Why won’t he just tell me if there’s nothing wrong with Liam? His refusal to talk just makes my worries increase, as well as my suspicions.
For a moment, I consider chasing after him and demanding he talk to me, but I know that’d be a wasted effort. Still, I can’t let this go, especially after Liam helped with Jon Eric’s body.
There’s one other person who might be able to tell me what’s going on.
I hurry in the direction Saint left, though I’m careful not to walk too quickly so I don’t accidentally catch up to him. Once I’m out of the academic building, I make my way to the rec center. Once I’m inside, I know exactly where I need to go.
The room that the boxing team practices in has multiple sparring rings, as well as a maze of large and small bags hanging from iron beams along the ceiling. Grunts and groans already ring throughout the space as I make my way inside. Every ring is occupied, and maybe less than half the bags as the rest of the team members wait their turns to spar.
I spot Gabe in the center ring, dancing around his opponent with his gloved hands up and bright green eyes gleaming. His footwork is impressive, but I knew that already from all the times we worked out together. He might not have a lot of bulk, but he’s fast, and couple that with some solid endurance, and you’ve got yourself a hell of a fighter.
Reaching the ring, I wait for him to finish, not interrupting the match. It’s over soon enough, though. Gabe manages to tire out his opponent and knock him down with a well-timed one-two combo. The poor guy can’t even crawl to his knees.
“You’ll get there, Thompson,” Gabe says after he removes his mouth guard and goes to help the exhausted kid up. “It takes time to build up stamina, but you’ll be there next year.”
This is a side of Gabe I’ve never really seen before. The team player. He’s honestly supportive and seems patient.
Weird.
He glances my way and meets my eye. His brows shoot up and an excited smile plays about his lips.
“Holy shit, Ellis!” he shouts, rushing over to me. “Did you change your mind finally? You want in on this action? I mean, season’s ended, but we’re still doing club events. I figured you’d come knocking on our door eventually after what happened with the swim team.”
I flinch at the unfortunate reminder of one of my most painful experiences so far at Angelview, but I don’t make a fuss about it. Gabe’s not great with social cues, I’ve found.
“Nope, sorry,” I say instead with a shake of my head. “Still not joining, just had a question for you.”
His expression drops with disappointment, and he sags against the ring’s ropes.
“Ahhhh, damn,” he murmurs. “Fine. What’s up?”
“Do you know where Liam is?”
He blinks at me, looking a little taken aback. “Ummm, no. Can’t say that I do.”
He looks genuinely perplexed, which makes me think he’s telling the truth, and not just covering for Saint.
Carving a hand through my dark hair, I let out a frustrated sigh. “All right. Thanks anyway.”
“Was that it?”
Nodding, I shrug and start backing away. “Yeah. Just worried about him, I guess.”
“You shouldn’t worry about Liam,” he calls after me. “He’ll turn up eventually. He always does.”
I’m not so certain, but I thank Gabe anyway. He doesn’t have any other information for me, so there’s not point sticking around. As he turns back to talk with his teammates, I slowly make my way back out of the practice room, my stomach twisting with growing anxiety.
“Mallory? You okay?”
I look up from the book I’ve been staring blankly at for the past few minutes and meet Loni’s concerned brown eyes. We’re studying together in the library, which is quiet and apparently abandoned for the most part.
“Yeah … I’m fine,” I reply, though there’s a notable lack of conviction in my tone that I hear myself. “Why?”
She scrunches her nose. “You just seem … distracted lately. Upset, actually. I’m worried about you.”
Shit, I thought I was doing a better job hiding my worries and fears.
Forcing a smile, I shake my head. “It’s nothing, I promise.”
She doesn’t look convinced, and I think it’s an indication of how good of a friend she is. In truth, it’s far from nothing. I can’t stop thinking about Liam and if he’s okay. Or Jenn. And if I try to turn my thoughts from them, I immediately picture Jon Eric’s body floating in the pool, and I don’t know what’s worse.