Page 3 of Racing Hearts

There’s a party every night.

“Sure thing, man.” I high-five the jock named Liam as I pass. He’s in my history class, and despite the way he looks, he’s a big marshmallow inside, and when I randomly told him I was bi, he simply nodded.

“I get it. Chicks are hot, but there are some hot guys too.”

We’ve been friends ever since, and even though I’m not affiliated with sports, I seem to be invited to all the football parties, which Lally and my other friends love since I bring them along so we can openly ogle all the muscle and hot chicks who hang all over the football players.

“He’s so pretty,” Lally murmurs as we pass.

“Eh.” I shrug.

“Not your type.” She smirks. “You like them brooding and damaged.”

“Do not,” I mutter as we navigate through the busy halls.

“There was the starving artist Michelangelo. Oh, and then the nerd with daddy issues named Cynthia?—”

“Okay.” I cover her lips as she grins, licking my palm until I shoot her a look and let her go. “At least I don’t exclusively date closeted girls, or not exclusively since you don’t date.”

She winks. “They are fun to play with.”

Another thing Lally and I bonded over was that our parents didn’t approve of our sexual orientations. Unlike mine, Lally’s folks actually had her sent to a camp to try and “fix her,” as if it were an addiction or a habit she could kick and not how she was born.

Fucking idiots.

“I don’t know. I think it’s a shame you two don’t have the same type. You could share them.” Tommy, another of our friends, pops up before us with a bright grin, paint smudged across his face.

“Ew.” Lally smacks him. “Bad male. Down, dog.”

He chuckles as he steps back. Wearing oversized overalls and a small beanie and carrying his ever-present notebook, he’s an art major cliché, but he’s also a good guy. “Just kidding, maybe, but Evvie, man, stop collecting all the art dick.”

I raise my eyebrows. “I’ve barely dated since I’ve been here.”

He points in my face. “That doesn’t matter. They are all too busy drooling over your model-looking ass to notice. It’s hella annoying,” he grumbles. “I swear, if you weren’t so pretty, we wouldn’t be friends.”

“But then who would you draw and play COD with?” I taunt as I wrap my arm around him and steer him toward our class.

“Still, not fair,” he grouches. “It’s always, ‘Oh, Tommy, you’re roommates with Evan Shaw, right? Can you introduce us?’ Boy, girl, teacher, it doesn’t matter.”

Lally and I stop, our heads swinging his way. “Teacher?” I blurt.

His eyes narrow again. “Not yet, but you never know, and digital arts hottie is mine.”

“Mr. Ford?” I exclaim. “Dude, he’s a total asshole, and that’s coming from me.”

“But he’s so pretty.” Tommy sighs wistfully. “Right, better go or Mr. Ford will have my ass, and not in a fun way. Tonight?”

“Tonight.” I nod as we watch him grab his board and run out the door, hitting it as soon as he’s outside and running straight into Mr. Ford, whose coffee goes all over them both. “That boy is hopeless.”

“So are you, now that you mention it.” Lally takes my hand, tugging me inside the auditorium. “Seriously, Ev, what’s up with you? You haven’t been on a date in ages.”

I shrug as I sit, pulling out my notebook, but I can feel her impenetrable gaze on the side of my face, so I sigh as the rows start to fill up. “I’m just bored, you know? None of them excite me. I don’t want to be worshiped. I want to be loved, flawed and dirty.”

“See, you like walking red flags. That, my man, is a problem.” She sighs.

“Then we are problem children together.” I chuckle, nudging her side as she slings her leg over her chair.

“Together.” Lally winks as she turns to face the front. “At least you might get some dick tonight.”

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