Letting out a slow breath, I keep a smile on my face.
One of the guys taps Max's shoulder, getting his attention, and points over at me. Max looks back at me with a frown on his face. Giving him a little wave, he stands with his hand on his hip and the ball tucked against his ribs.
Lifting his shoulders, he shakes his head no as he raises his brows, basically asking me what I want without any words.
Giving him a head nod to come over next me, I mouth, “Can I talk to you for a minute?”
Shaking his head no, he turns back to his game. They start to play again, but I'm not leaving without making sure he knows I really do appreciate what he did.
“Max!” I call out, waving him over. “Just for a second! Give me one second!”
“No!” he shouts back without looking, bouncing the ball, and running toward the basket.
“Hey, Max, what's wrong, your girlfriend won't leave?”
“She ain't my girlfriend, dickhead.” He looks at me with anger in his eyes, then throws the ball hard to the other guy. “Your shot, Glenn.”
Glenn smirks as he bites his lip. “Not your girlfriend? So, does that mean she's fair game? Because I'll gladly tap it if you won't.”
“Dude, shut the fuck up and play ball. You couldn't pay a hooker to fuck you.”
“We'll see. I bet she knows how to play ball pretty well.” Glenn chuckles as he flicks his tongue against the inside of his cheek, motioning a blowjob.
Fucking pervert.
Max's eyes lower, his brows dropping down hard as he's about to lunge forward.
Glenn goes to throw the ball back at Max, but I jump in, and snag it. Dribbling it down the court, I take a shot from the free throw line, and sink it.
Both guys stare at me, jaws dropping wide.
“Can I now have a minute of your time, Max?”
The other guys all belt out a loud, “Ohhh!” Covering their mouths and laughing like he just got called to the principal’s office.
Embarrassment floods his expression, his lips thin as paper. I think I just pissed him off even more. With long strides, he's at my side in two steps, and snags my wrist. Dragging me around the side of the school, he pushes me against the wall.
His mouth is folded down at the corners, his eyes hard as his nostrils flare. “You need to cut this shit out, understand me?” Holding his finger up, he points it in my face. “Stop acting like you have any right to talk to me, because you don't.”
“I just wanted to thank you for this morning, that's all. I owe you that much.”
“You owe me that much?” Scoffing, he rolls his eyes as he shakes his head. “Do you have any fucking clue what you owe me? A fucking thank you doesn't do shit. Your apology means nothing to me, and I don't fucking want it. You're a god damn fucking rat, an entitled princess, who thinks she can waltz into someone's life and fuck it all up. You think you're above me but guess what—” he says between clenched teeth. “You're not.”
Veering my stare, I furrow my brows. He has no right to cast judgment on me. He doesn't know shit about me. For him to even suggest that I think I'm better than anyone, is bullshit.
I didn't put him in that position that night, he did it to himself. I only walked up on it. For him to hate me because I did the right thing, it shows me how small he really is inside. I can't make him see what he doesn't want to, but I can make sure he knows who I am.
“You don't know me. You have no idea what I think. I did the right thing, period. You did that shit to yourself, don't make me out to be the asshole. I didn't come to fight with you, I came to thank you. If you see that as some type of threat, that's on you.”
Attempting to take a step away from the brick building behind me, Max boxes me in by slamming his hands against the wall on either side of my head. I can smell his cologne. It's strong, lathered on thick, and smells incredible.
My nose lifts, drawn to the subtle notes of sandalwood and mint. I'm leaning in, I can feel my body react as I inhale more of him. Max glares at me, his eyes piercing, holding me in place. I'm torn. I want to move and get away from him, but my body wants to stay and get closer.
Max smirks, biting his bottom lip as his eyes drift knowingly around my face. “I know exactly the type of person you are. People like you lack what it takes to survive. You can't do shit without mommy and daddy holding your hand. You walk on the steps placed before you, while people like me have to struggle to get one foot ahead of the other, but we do it on our own. No fucking handouts. You're so used to shit being handed to you on a silver platter, born with a silver fucking spoon in your mouth, that you just can't see it. You think you did the right thing? You think you had the right to stick your nose in where it didn't belong? But, you didn't. Do you have any idea what you did to me?” he asks, his head tipping to the side. He doesn't wait for me to answer, he keeps speaking. “You destroyed everything; you ruined my fucking life. Do you really not see that? And you think I give a shit about a thank you from you? How naive are you?”
Right then, I can see the pain in his eyes. The hurt. The sadness. It's there for a single breath until he blinks it all away, forcing it back under the surface.
Any fear I feel melts away as I question everything I did that night. I never took the time to see it from his point of view. I never thought about what my words would mean for him.
Did I really ruin his life?
It was never my intention to screw up his life. I just answered the questions honestly. That's what anyone else would have done, right?
“You mean nothing to me, do you understand that? You're the fucking mouse and I'm the big bad cat, and I'm going to make you—”
“Max!” Amy yells as she grabs his shoulder and pulls him out of my face. “Back the fuck up off her!” Getting between us, Amy blocks him from me. “What the hell is wrong with you? Can't get pleasure from torturing guys anymore, so you moved on to women?”
“This doesn't involve you, Amy, mind your own business.”
“It involves me now, Ramon. Go pick on someone else, not this poor girl.” Shoving his shoulders, Amy grabs my forearm and pulls me back toward the field. “Come on, Prairie. I told you he was a dick.” She gives him one last angry look over her shoulder, then softens her eyes as we walk back to the track. Her voice is more tender and comforting as she says, “I'm sorry, I shouldn't have encouraged you. Max is damaged, Prairie, he's no good. My advice to you is just steer clear of him. You said your piece, and he'll either accept it or he won't, but don't let him get to you.”
“Yeah, that's probably a good idea.” Nodding in agreement, I cross my arms over my chest as we climb up the hill.
It isn't his reaction that's bothering me. I'm upset over his words. He's blaming me for everything. I'm a martyr for his hate, the one he can point to when he needs to feel better.
But is he right? Did I destroy his life?
It's hard to think that my statement was the deciding factor in anything. I don't want to be the reason his life is miserable.
How could I be the cause? Could that really be the truth?
I'll have to talk to my uncle to see if I can get some more answers. I need to know who this boy is, and why he seems to hate everything around him.