A year later, Tris finally found out what really had happened—Marcello had never told her. Her only sentence to me for a week was, “You betrayed me.”
While we all celebrated the switching of schools, she mourned silently and denied it to each of us.
Let’s be honest here, those two most definitely need the distance, or Kiki’s pregnant at eighteen won’t be the biggest upset on the Steel playing field.
“BTW, Truth, Reeves does like you,” Tris states.
“No.” I laugh.
“Let us all remember that, amongst us, I am the relationship expert,” Tris states as if it’s gospel and looks at Kiki. “Three years, Kiki, three.”
“It would also answer the question as to why he is being all protective of you,” Brisa says, eyes sparkling as she interjects her theory. “Maybe your initial attraction to him wasn’t a crush, T. Maybe it was a second chance romance in the making.”
“Whatever,” Kiki snaps. “He’s a dick. He hit on me and …” She snaps her mouth shut, and we all start laughing, including Kiki. She shrugs. “Gotta admit, he’s no Brand.”
“Possibly a more refined version though, huh?” Brisa asks sweetly.
Kiki nearly trips as she glares at her. “Are you kidding me? Brand was born fine. There was no need to ‘re’ anything about my man.”
Brisa laughs. “I’m just saying, sometimes all a person needs is a ‘re’ brand to change things up a bit.”
“Rebrand this.” Kiki flips her off, and we all start laughing even harder.
I will admit, to only myself of course, that when he put Gabrielle in her place, I expected it to be a part of some sadistic plan, and although it’s only been half a day, I can’t help but wonder if he does actually like me. Or is he trying to set me up for some horrific fall?
The door opens and in walks a beast of a boy, wearing crisp white Nike tennis shoes with a gray swoosh, dark gray sweatpants, a white Nike hoodie with a matching gray swoosh, hood up of course, airpods in his ears, scrolling through his phone and giving zero shits about his surroundings.
Christ, why does he have to be that hot? And why does every article of clothing I’ve seen him in—and let’s be honest, not seen him in—look like it’s a new layer of skin, and he has that gives a damn less attitude that all women find extremely sexy?
He is legitimately walking into a fitness center, with a total of eight people in it, and it happens to be the lion’s den of Steel crew, and he’s unaware.
He nods at his screen, and his full lips quip up with what seems to be amusement, which has thus far been like spotting a sabertooth tiger which, from an eighth-grade report I did, I distinctly remember it being on the top ten list of extinct animals. Also, of the somewhat extinct—no, scratch that—newly discovered subject is a pooling heat between the slight quivering of my thighs.
Oh, hell no! I scold my nether regions with an emphasis on the hell and the no.
“Is that Shades?” Kiki whispers from behind me.
I turn and see her looking in the mirror.
“That’s Tobias Easton,” Brisa sneers.
Barbells drop in the distance, causing Tobias to look up. His eyes meet mine in the mirror and annoyance floods his far too handsome for a douchebag face.
“So, Shades is Tobias Easton, huh?” Kiki says, turning off her machine and turning around.
Fingers pinched together, he taps them on his forehead before rubbing them down his face.
I see Justice strip off the gloves he’s been wearing to beat on the bag and walk toward us.
Fuck, I think as I try to get to Justice first, only managing to trip over my own freaking lunch pail and get righted real quick by none other than the head horseman.
“Get your hands off my sister!” Justice booms.
Tobias shakes his head as he lets go of my hips and huffs, “Right, my bad.” He steps over my lunch pail that’s strapped around my booted foot, and heads to the treadmill farthest from us.
“You good, T?” Justice asks, squatting down and pulling the strap off my boot.
“Yeah, of course.”
“Is he gonna just act like we aren’t here?” my cousin Max says loud enough so that everyone hears him.
“Chill, Max.” Patrick chuckles as he musses up his hair. “Save it for Saturday.”
“Why don’t we just do it now?” Amias asks, wiping his hair with a towel.
“You’ll be there for support. There’s only two involved in the fight,” Justice states sternly.
“But if they all jump in, we—”
“No one’s gonna jump in,” Tobias says as he increases the speed, cutting Max off.
Amias glares at his back. “That’s too bad.”
As soon as Brisa and Tris are out of Kiki’s vehicle, I ask, “Do you really think Tobias is Shades?”
“I rarely forget a face,” she says, hitting the gas.
“Doesn’t make sense. Saturday night, it seemed like he hated Frank.”
Kiki laughs. “How is that different from the day I got the rings? He was pissed at him, remember?”
“Jesus, that’s true, isn’t it?”
She nods. “Have you looked him up at all?”
“Meaning …?”
“Oh, come on! You borderline stalked Harrison Reeves, yet you haven’t him?”
“First, stalked is a really harsh word. Second”—I throw myself back in my seat—“his IG is private.”
She laughs. “I can help investigate on Thursday after school.”
“Brand leaves Thursday morning, right?” I ask.
She nods. “Come stay with me for the weekend.”
“You should ask Tris to stay with you on Saturday night,” I suggest.
“I love my little bundle of Brand in my belly, but it sucks I can’t be there.”
“Tris could use a little Kiki time.”
“I could use a little Tris time, too, I suppose.”
Wednesday
Same soft cast boot, different day … or something like that.
The horsemen, minus Easton, seem to be around every corner, and not one person has uttered an ugly word at me all day. It’s been perfect, actually.
I am the first of my crew, at the fitness center, having snuck out of my last class in hopes of avoiding the parade of horsemen, but I’m not alone.
Today, Tobias is in black Nike tennis shoes, white Nike track pants with a black swoosh on his narrow hip. His shoulders act as a clothes hanger to a black Nike hoodie with a white swoosh. His hood is down today, and he has a backward white ball cap on. For the first time—well, except for that time I saw him stepping out of his shower, and that one time in the ring—his head is held high and his Persian blue eyes are intense, so damn intense.
Thankfully, I didn’t fall today.
Guilt riddles me at the way I get so hot for the boy that Justice will be fighting on Saturday. Thankfully, no one can see it, and even more gratefully, Justice seems actually excited about the fight and is taking my advice on footwork, as well as working with the knowledge that Patrick, Brisa, and I have from watching Tobias fight. All those things help ease the guilt I have about that, too.