Page 38 of The Hate We Breathe
My gaze lifts to meet Nolan’s, who looks more annoyed than worried. “Why’d you try to keep that from me?” I ask.
“We were going to tell you if he came back with more information,” Nolan says on a sigh before marching forward. He yanks Gio away from me, G’s arms loosening and releasing before he can jerk me off my own feet from the harsh movement. “But we can’t talk about it now, regardless. We’re late.”
Gio groans low and long. “Coach is already gonna be pissed because Lex isn’t here,” he whines.
“Suck it up,” Nolan orders, taking Gio by the back of his neck and pushing him forward. I stare at their backs as they start walking. It takes the two of them about ten feet before they realize I’m not following. Nolan releases Gio as they look back. “You coming?” he asks.
“Don’t try to keep shit like that from me again,” I say in lieu of an answer.
Nolan turns fully to face me. “We wouldn’t have kept it a secret forever,” he tells me. “We just wanted to wait until we had more information—a reason for why he went there.”
I shake my head. “I don’t care, Nolan. Never again. That’s not how our relationship works.”
Cool brown eyes circled by a ring of crimson stare back at me. He nods once, but that’s all it takes. It’s the only consolation I require. As soon as it’s given, I move forward, hurrying to catch up with them as we make our way over to the sports building and then eventually to the football field.
Just as Gio had said, when they finally reach the field after changing into their practice uniforms, their coach is pissed. Despite the early hour, he’s whistling and yelling across the field as the guys join their teammates to run drills. Why they have to practice like this when there’s only one game left of the season, I’ll never understand.
It’s while I’m standing there, watching the guys get all hot and sweaty with the exertion of their exercise, that someone approaches.
“Bet you’re happy to be back with them, huh?”
The bleachers shriek as a body drops down next to me. I glance sideways. Roquel’s face is pale and there’s dark circles beneath her eyes. They don’t hide the red rim there, though. Something’s obviously wrong with her, but the bite in her tone makes my muscles bunch and my eyes narrow.
“Excuse me?” My tone is edged steel, a quiet warning.
Next to me, Roquel freezes. I wait. For a beat, she looks like she’s about to snap back. Then, she deflates. Her shoulders sag, and she exhales a long breath.
“Sorry,” she murmurs a second later. “That came out wrong.” Definitely, but if she’s apologizing I’m not going to say it. “It’s just been… a week.” She passes me a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes.
It’s then that I notice more than her wan face. Her clothes, leggings and an oversized Scorpions sweatshirt, hang loose on her frame. Even if it’s getting closer to winter, I’ve always seen her dressed to show as much skin as possible. She’s confident that way, or so I’ve always assumed. Now, though, she looks like she’s burrowing into herself.
Roquel never looks fragile. But right now? She looks more than that. She looks breakable. And that unsettles me more than the bite in her voice.
The tension in my spine eases, and I lean in. “Is everything okay?”
She doesn’t answer. Not for a long moment. I wait, hoping she’ll say something. She’s been a pretty decent friend to me during some of the roughest months of my life. She was the only one Morpheus would allow over and she came. We aren’t besties, but we aren’t strangers either. It occurs to me that I’ve never actually asked her about her background. She’s given clues and talked about meaningless stuff, but nothing of substance. Is it something about her parents? Or… surely, it’s not her aunt Ma-Ri? She’d been fine when I saw her at The Dionysus Lounge the day Lex and Gio had forced me to go there.
Roquel’s gaze remains fixed on the field, but it’s unfocused, as if she’s staring through the players, through the noise, through the world. Silence stretches, taut and uncomfortable. Finally, she speaks. “I appreciate it, but I don’t think I’m ready to talk about it.”
“Did…” I argue with myself on pushing her, but maybe if I know the circumstances of why she looks this way, I can help. “Did you lose someone?”
She laughs, but the sound is sharp and caustic. “Yeah, you could say that,” she says. When she looks at me again, it’s with a watery smile. “I guess you could say it was a breakup.” Sheshrugs and gestures down to herself. “Heartbreak makes me look pathetic, doesn’t it?”
“No,” I tell her honestly. “You’re still beautiful.”
“Yeah…” It’s clear by her tone that she doesn’t believe it. “It just sucks that it’s happening right before winter formal.” She snorts, the sound derisive. “Not that he would’ve taken me.No.” She shakes her head. “What would people think? A guy like him with someone like me.”
“Someone like you?” I frown. “Is this that football player you were with?” I ask. “Did he say something to you?”
Roquel stiffens. “No, it’s— I really don’t want to talk about it.” She repeats the words, but with more finality than before. Then, too suddenly, she snaps her head toward me, plastering on a grin so bright it burns false. Almost like she’s trying to erase the last several minutes of conversation with a grin and cheery attitude.
“Anyway!” Her voice climbs into that bubbly lilt I know too well. “Let’s try this again—are you glad to be around your guys again? I bet you missed them.”
The whiplash leaves me blinking, but if anyone can understand not wanting to be vulnerable, it’s me. So, I let it go.
“I’m back where I want to be,” I say, shifting my gaze back to the field. Nolan and Gio move with an easy kind of violence, bodies colliding, muscles straining as they slam into person-shaped weights, pushing them across the field. Sweat sticks to their skin and training uniform, making the fabric cling to the outlines of their bodies.
The sight grounds me, and at the same time, sets me on fire. Despite my annoyance over our earlier conversation, the fact is—I still want them. In every way. At every turn. It’s damn distracting.
