Somethin' About That Boy

by Vale, Lani Lynn

  I didn’t take days off. Days off meant that Symphony could get the better of me, and that wasn’t ever going to happen as long as I had control of it.

  “Tell me the real reason you talked me into this,” Blue ordered.

  I grinned at her.

  “Titus. Sweatpants,” I told her. “Only, my reason is a bit taller, and a bit pissier today.”

  Pissy being too mild of a word.

  Banner’s attitude today had been quite funny.

  And it all centered around the new student that tried around every turn to get me to talk to him.

  “You know why he’s pissy,” Blue said as she sat down onto the bleachers to tie her shoe.

  “You know?” I asked.

  She gestured at Team Sweatpants and then tilted her head in the opposite direction, where the coach was talking to the new guy. Vance.

  “That’s why,” Blue said. “And Titus didn’t even have to confirm it for me. I saw the two of them pass in the hallway today. I thought for sure Banner was going to punch his lights out.”

  My brows rose. “It’s that bad?”

  She moved to her other shoe and untied it before retying it. “It’s that bad. Titus confirmed that they didn’t get along, but I’d already heard the whole story from my family.”

  I grimaced.

  “What’s this about you talking to Titus?” I asked, trying to get my mind off of Banner.

  She rolled her eyes. “He told me to watch out for you. Apparently, this guy is a big enough douche that Banner worried about it over lunch. He knows how close we are, so I struggled through the conversation.”

  I snickered.

  Blue really did like Titus. The only problem was, Blue got a bit tongue-tied when she spoke to him.

  I watched as she started to untie her other shoe, and growled. “Enough stalling, Spurlock.”

  Blue snickered and stood up, staring at the bleachers with dismay.

  “How are we doing this?” she asked. “Run five sets, then a lap?”

  I grinned. “I was thinking run a set of cross-country bleachers, run a lap, then repeat until we get to two miles.”

  She grimaced.

  “That sounds truly awful,” she admitted.

  It did.

  But, saying that, I wasn’t sure that it was enough based solely on the fact that I could see Symphony on the track and she was soaked in sweat.

  “I really don’t want her to beat me,” I told Blue honestly. Like, I don’t care if I come in dead second to last. As long as she’s behind me, I’ll be happy.

  Blue snorted.

  “Abilene would have come in dead last,” Blue said.

  That was true.

  But Abilene had had a very good reason as to why she always came in last.

  First, she was pregnant and then she’d just had a baby.

  Not that we ever talked about it. Because talking about it would make it real for us, and we couldn’t handle real yet.

  Abilene had needed not real. And not real meant that we ignored it at all costs. She hadn’t handled her situation well. Slone had definitely been the better parent. And he was still doing a great job being a father to little Briley.

  Abilene had tried to do the things that she did before, but she just couldn’t step right back into her pre-baby life and expect to make it. Then the choice was taken away from her when she was murdered. It was still so hard to talk about even now.

  “That doesn’t count,” I felt it prudent to point out.

  Blue snorted and stood up, right when Titus made his way over to the fence and hopped over.

  Followed by about fifty other boys.

  My boy being the one that was in the lead.

  I licked my lips and tried not to drool.

  “Might want to go if you’re going,” Titus said, his eyes only for Blue.

  Blue ignored him and adjusted her short shorts, accidentally on purpose exposing her back to Titus as she did.

  I would’ve laughed had he not been enthralled with it.

  “You should just take it off now,” I pointed out to Blue.

  Blue rolled her eyes. “I’ll toss it near our bags so someone doesn’t steal it like last time.”

  Someone being Symphony. And Symphony didn’t steal it as much as throw it away.

  And once it was covered in nacho cheese that’d been in the trashcan all over a plate, Blue hadn’t wanted it back.

  “Hey, Ma,” Slone said as he hopped over the fence. He bent down and gave his baby a kiss on her mouth, causing her to giggle.

  Speaking of things Abilene hadn’t liked to think about, one of those things was currently sitting in the bleachers with Slone’s mother, Martina. Martina had Slone’s child—and you better not mistake mentioning that it was Abilene’s child as well—in her arms as she watched Slone practice.

  Martina and Slone had a low conversation, so I gestured to Blue that we needed to go.

  I tried not to spend too much time talking with Slone about his baby’s mother, because then I would start to question why Abilene had done what she’d done when she was alive.

  And it was really hard to be supportive the more I saw Slone and the baby interact.

  “Ready?” I asked, watching as Banner finally made his way over the fence.

  “Ready,” Blue confirmed.

  I shoved my headphones in and started off, loving the burn that overtook my body as I did.

  I was on my fourth set of bleachers when I felt the pounding beside me.

  I moved over so that I was running up the seats instead of the stairs and kept trucking, unsurprised when Banner was the first person to pass me.

  He was stronger and faster than anyone on the team. Even the running backs.

  Titus wasn’t far behind, followed by Slone and the rest of the sweatpants gang.

  But my eyes had only been for one perfectly formed ass, and that was Banner’s.

  Vance, however, stopped to keep pace with me, and I narrowed my eyes and tried to ignore him.

  But I couldn’t stop the angry burst of a tirade that left my lips when he wouldn’t leave.

  “I guess Banner’s quickness isn’t unusual for y’all’s old school,” I said, leaving the obvious of ‘you’re slow’ for him to come up with on his own.

  Vance narrowed his eyes and shoulder-checked me.

  I nearly went flying all the way down the stairs.

  Would have if there hadn’t been a handicap rail there to keep me from falling.

  I stopped and readjusted myself, my eyes automatically going across the bleachers to see if Banner had seen.

  Luckily, he hadn’t, and when I started back again, the only thing to show for our encounter was a quickly forming bruise that was taking place on the upper part of my arm.

  I didn’t stop for three long laps and only then because I needed to shuck my shirt.

  Blue stopped beside me, her hand going to my arm.

  “What the fuck was that with Vance?” Blue hissed.

  I looked around to see if anybody had heard and was thankful that Banner was nowhere near.

  “I don’t know,” I admitted.

  And I didn’t.

  I was really taking Banner’s warnings to heart.

  “Do you want to keep running?” she asked, looking worriedly from my face to my arm and then back to Vance.

  I shook off my anger and nodded once.

  “Yeah,” I said. “I think I still hate Symphony more than Vance.”

  She made a disgusted face. “You want to know what would happen if those two got together?”

  Horror washed over my face. “Bite your tongue!”

  She snickered and gestured for me to keep going.

  I did, focusing on the burn in my lungs and not the ache in my arm.

  I was on my second to last lap when I’d had enough.

  The ache in my arm had gone from a dull throb to a sharp ache somewhere betwe
en the lap I was on and the one before it.

  And when I looked back at Blue, she was once again caught up in all of the football guys. Meaning that I would be soon, too.

  Ducking out of the way before Banner reached me—because yes, he was still in first place as he took the bleachers two and three at a time—I ducked down low beside the water table and took a seat on the ground.

  Blue would know where to find me, which was why I wasn’t worried about not being seen.

  The huge fuckin’ water jug and table blocked my view, and barely anyone ventured beyond the table because the water was on the front of the table, not the back.

  But Blue knew where I liked to sit.

  This was one of the only spots on the field that was shaded and I was currently dying. The heat of the sun was so strong that I felt like I could literally feel it burning into my skin.

  Blue rounded the table and plopped down beside me, two cups of water in her hand.

  “I stole these,” she said. “Straight out of your boyfriend’s hand.”

  “He’s not my boyfriend.” I smiled as I took a sip. “You didn’t want to keep going?”

  She snorted. “I didn’t want to do it in the first place.”

  “Touché,” I snickered.

  The boys started to gather around the table and soon I heard the unmistakable sound of the fucker’s voice who’d nearly pushed me down the bleachers earlier.

  “Hey, Banner,” Vance called. “Who’s the Chinese chick?”

  Banner didn’t answer.

  But it was okay.

  Somebody else did for him.

  “You mean the one that you almost knocked down the bleachers when you shoulder-checked her?” someone called out.

  I froze, looking at Blue with wide eyes.

  “What the fuck is he talking about?” Banner’s cold, dark voice asked.

  Vance laughed. “He’s not talking about anything.”

  “Bullshit,” another voice called out. “I was looking back at you because I could hear you two yelling. You hit her so hard that she fell into that guardrail. If that guardrail wasn’t there, she would’ve tumbled all the way down the bleachers with how fuckin’ hard you hit her.”

  I winced, looking at Blue as if she could help what was about to happen.

  I knew it was going to happen, too.

  Blue and I stood up in slow motion, my arm protesting the movement, and looked over the water table to see Banner chest to chest with Vance.

  “Stay. Away. From her,” Banner growled, bumping Vance with his chest.

  Vance laughed, pulling his arms up as if in a placating gesture.

  But Banner wouldn’t be placated.

  “I don’t know who she is, man.” Vance tried to laugh it off as if he didn’t do anything. “It was an accident.”

  “Accident my ass.”

  That was Titus.

  He’d been too close to Banner to see what happened, but he could guess just like I assumed the rest of them were doing.

  “Boys!” the coach called. “Out on the field!”

  Banner’s jaw locked tight, and he looked like he’d rather throat punch Vance than do anything that the coach asked of him.

  Vance backed away, grinning at Banner as he did, until he was too far away to get a punch in.

  Then he said, “She’s feisty.”

  Banner took a step in his direction, but I was there to stop him from taking another step.

  My hand on his wrist felt like I was gripping a steel bar.

  The veins that were protruding from his skin had me curious, and God, but he had a big wrist. I couldn’t even get my fingers all the way around it.

  “Banner,” I said softly, tugging him before he could take a step toward Vance.

  Vance saw the way Banner held back for me, and his eyes narrowed.

  “Vance, if you’re trying out today, let’s get it done,” Coach called out, making Vance’s eyes narrow.

  He finally came to a decision, though, because seconds later he was turning and running to where he was told to be.

  “I fucking hate him,” Banner snarled under his breath.

  He turned to me, his eyes intense.

  “Are you okay?” he asked, voice low and pissed.

  I opened my mouth to immediately reply that I was, but before I could answer he moved to my side—the side with the quickly forming bruise along my arm—and hissed.

  “Fuck,” he said. “This is bad.”

  I looked down at my arm, trying to see it from his angle, but couldn’t.

  “It’ll be okay,” I promised.

  And it would.

  “It’ll hurt like a motherfucker when you try to play volleyball tomorrow,” he murmured, running a thumb down the length of my arm in tender sweeps.

  It would.

  What would hurt even worse was when I had to go to the weight room tomorrow.

  But I wouldn’t be mentioning that.

  “I promise, I’m okay,” I repeated.

  He sighed and dropped my arm, his eyes going unfocused as he looked at the bruise. “You need ice.”

  I did.

  “I’m going to right now,” I told him.

  He grumbled something under his breath, and I took that to mean ‘good.’

  “You’ll see tomorrow at school, Banner,” I said, pulling my arm away from him.

  “Hey, Banner!” Vance called. “How about you let your girl go and come play some football.”

  Banner stiffened even more. “I don’t fucking like this.”

  Blue, sensing that Banner was about to lose his shit—again—broke in then.

  “Hey, Slone,” Blue called. “Can I hold your baby?”

  Slone, who’d stayed behind along with five others to make sure things didn’t get out of hand, looked at Blue with a grin. “Yeah.”

  “I’ll hang with the baby,” I said softly. “I won’t go anywhere until we can talk.”

  Banner looked somewhat appeased.

  “I’ll give you a ride home,” he growled.

  He was still pissed.

  Really, really pissed, actually.

  I nodded once. “I can do that.”

  My dad may very well kill me for it afterward, but I could do it.

  He touched me on the cheek with a single finger, then jogged out onto the field.

  Blue came up to me with Slone’s baby. A baby that looked so much like our friend that it hurt.

  “Jesus, I don’t know how she ever gave this up,” I said, curling my finger around the baby’s fist.

  The girl latched onto it with surprising force.

  “Me neither,” Blue whispered. “And the way Slone looks at her like she’s his world? I seriously don’t know what happened to her. I wish I was a ghost whisper that could sneak into the afterlife and ask her what the hell had happened.”

  For the next hour, we played with Slone’s baby.

  And it was only toward the end that I realized that I didn’t actually know her name.

  “Did they ever name her?” I asked curiously. “I mean, obviously she has a name. But did Abilene have a part in it?”

  “No.”

  I blinked, startled, and stared up at Slone who was just all of a sudden standing in front of us.

  Chapter 8

  I’m so broke I can’t even pay attention.

  -Banner to Ford

  Banner

  “Is that kid really Slone’s?” I asked curiously.

  The baby under question was currently sitting at the water station with the trainer now, as well as Blue and Perry. But, earlier, I’d seen the baby sitting on a parent’s lap.

  I was honestly confused on whose baby it was at this point.

  “Slone’s,” Titus confirmed. “He and a friend of ours who died had a baby. Her name was Abilene.”

  “Abilene?” I asked. “Were they a thing?”

  Titus shook his head. “They
are most definitely not a thing. I’m not really even sure what exactly happened there.” He paused. “But yeah. Don’t mention Abilene. Abilene’s murder is just too fresh in his mind, but they were never really together in the first place. And Slone has a thing for Tempy.”

  I nearly rolled my eyes at all the drama.

  Tempy was currently making googly eyes at the baby, and Slone was watching her do it with a small smile on his face.

  “Who’s supposed to be watching this baby right now?” I asked curiously.

  “Martina was the one you saw watching the baby earlier.” Titus took a hefty swallow of Gatorade. “But Martina, Slone’s mom, works nights. She leaves at four in the afternoon to drive an hour to work. She’s an anesthesiologist at the hospital. The trainer chick that is also doubling as our water chick is Tempy’s mom.”

  “And she watches the baby while Slone finishes practice?” I asked.

  Titus nodded. “When Martina is working, yes. Martina and Ms. Brennan are best friends.”

  Sounded like a mess waiting to happen, I thought.

  “Slone doesn’t look too fucked up about having a kid at seventeen,” I said as we walked to the water table.

  “He’s not,” Titus agreed. “He’s a good dad, from what I’ve seen.”

  My eyes went over to Slone, who was talking to Perry and Blue.

  Just as we arrived at the table, we heard Slone say, “Her name is Briley.”

  “Aww,” Blue said. “That’s so sweet. She looks just like you.”

  I agreed.

  The baby was small, but you could definitely see a little Slone mixed into her face.

  The dark brown hair. The nose and the eyes. They were all Slone.

  Which, I guessed, might be a good thing.

  Perry’s eyes immediately came to mine.

  “You done?” she asked.

  I shook my head. “We have sprints. Then we’re done.”

  “Fuck sprints,” Slone muttered.

  Blue covered the baby’s ears. “Slone. You can’t say words like that anymore!”

  We all chuckled at Blue’s words.

  Sadly, for Slone, Blue was probably right.

  At least I would try to control my mouth if I had a baby to listen to it.

  “The coach doesn’t seem too impressed with your not-friend,” Perry said, her eyes across the field where Vance was having a discussion with the coach.

  I grimaced.