Page 48 of Hateful
I’m not the only one struggling with classes, even if most of my problems are thanks to Jasper and his friends. I feel a pang of guilt at dragging Rafael into my drama once again, but he doesn’t even seem to notice.
“See you at dinner?”
“Yeah. See ya, Neville,” I add as he comes within earshot. Neville waves in answer, then falls in beside Rafael.
I head through the sea of students toward my next class, stomach pulsing uncomfortably. And now to see Heath again, and this time outside of our professor’s watchful eye.
Or Jasper’s jealous one.
* * *
Heath looksup in mild surprise when I round the trail bend to meet him. “You’re getting faster,” he says.
“Good.”
I grin at him as he joins me, and we head off into the trees, our feet pounding down the half-melted snow.
I don’t bring a watch or my phone with me out on these runs, so I haven’t exactly been timing them, but I think Heath is right. It seems like it’s been taking less and less time to get to the break tree. Today I sit down next to Heath. He smiles at me as I do, bumping me with his elbow.
“You beat me here,” he says with a laugh.
“It’s not a race.”
But I feel a little smug anyway.
He leans back on his hands, tilting his head back to soak in the afternoon sun. “But would you beinterestedin a race?”
“Right now?”
“Right now, or … next month, at the next competition event.”
I feel my glare turn sharp as I look at him. “What are you talking about?”
He holds up his hands defensively. “Look—they haven’t announced it to the whole school yet, but the next event is a relay race. And we need four people—”
I stop him right there.
“No,” I say firmly.
“—but we’ve only got three—”
“No.”
“—and you’ve been training this whole time. Please, Alex! You wouldn’t even have to do much.”
I take a step back from him and cross my arms across my chest, waiting until he’s forced to look directly at me before I speak again. “Are you kidding me? I’d have to practice with you. All three of you … you know that?”
He shrugs. “Yeah, but—”
“And you’ve seen the way Beck has been lately,” I say.
“But he won’t—”
I cannot roll my eyes hard enough. “No. No way, no how. Get one of the lacrosse guys to do it. Isn’t there a track and field team? Getthemto do it.” I stand up, brushing dirty snow from my pants, and move to step away.
But Heath doesn’t just let me go.
He grabs my wrist, his grip too firm for me to yank immediately free. “Alex,” he says softly.
