I ask.
“Don’t worry about it,” he says. But this is a smartphone, which means it needs an actual plan. And data. And the truth is, I could swallow my pride enough to ask for help like this, if I knew it was safe.
But it isn’t.
I look at the phone in my hand.
And then I give it back.
“I can’t,” I say. Tears now threaten everything. I suck in a deep breath and steel myself.
“What?”
“I can’t take this, Liam.” A tear spills over, and then another. Dammit.
“Leighton, it could—” I hear the ghost of the sentence even though he doesn’t finish.
Save your life.
And he’s right, it could.
Or it could get us killed.
“He’s weird about phones. And police. If he found this, Liam . . .”
“So hide it really well.”
“There’s nowhere that’s safe, Liam. I—I appreciate the offer.”
“You really aren’t gonna take it?”
I don’t answer, but I make myself meet his gaze. And I know that, tears and all, he sees my resolve.
He shoves the cell phone into his backpack.
“I’m late for practice,” he says, and walks around me.
“Liam—”
“I get it. I do. I’m not upset with you, it’s just—”
It’s a lot. It’s a lot to ask him to know and not do anything.
“I’ll see ya after.” He’s gone through the doors to the gymnasium and turning right into the guys’ locker room.
That went well.
In the gym I sit at the end of the bleachers. I pull out our lit textbook and work through review questions.
For most of Liam’s practice, I study. There is some constant white noise coming from the closed weight room—the clanging of weights and the easy, low talk of the players. I finish my homework too soon, and pass the last half hour trying—and still failing—to write the Auburn scholarship essay. It’s frustrating. I’ve never really struggled to find the words before, but this one essay is defeating me.
I pack up my backpack and climb off the bleachers. I trade my bag for a basketball sitting in a bin on the side of the court and start to shoot at the net. I miss nine of ten shots, but it feels good to move my body when my mind gets stuck, so I think about Auburn and I throw the basketball, again and again. Then the doors to the weight room burst open, and a group of guys emerges. I walk all the way across the court before I realize it isn’t the football team, but wrestling.
I make eye contact with Brody as he comes out. I turn away, but not soon enough.
“Hey, did you guys hear that the ice queen is finally dating someone? I guess she isn’t as frigid as we thought after all.”
A few chuckles. Mostly not. I guess even Brody’s own teammates think he’s a jerk.
“Or maybe she just doesn’t like white guys,” Brody says.
“Shut the hell up, Brody.” I turn back as I say it, and realize he’s followed me across the court.
“Maybe when you’re done with Liam, you can give me another shot? Now that you’re a little thawed out by McNamara.” Brody reaches out, probably just to make some stupid comment about my skin not being ice cold, but I step backward.
I throw the basketball as I move, and it hits Brody in the center of his face.
Really hard.
A waterfall of blood starts to pour out of his nose.
And that’s when the football team comes out of the locker rooms.
“What the fuck, Leighton?” Brody yells.
The football coach joins us, shouting for someone to get some paper towels for the blood.
“What the hell is going on here?” Coach Tenley asks.
“That bitch broke my nose!”
“Hey, hey!” Coach holds up his hand. “Language.”
The sight of Brody being scolded for cursing in front of a teacher while bleeding profusely might actually be worth the trouble I’m in.
Liam is at my side. “Leighton?”
“He was . . . he was being a jerk. He was going to touch me.”
“Did he touch you?” Coach asks.
I shake my head no.
“Did you think he was going to hurt you?” he asks.
Again, no.
I just reacted.
“Detention tomorrow,” he says to me, then turns back to Brody. “Go get cleaned up. Your nose isn’t broken.”
Coach walks away, shaking his head as he goes.
Liam picks up the forgotten basketball and gives Brody a cold look.
“Leave Leighton alone. Enough is enough.”
“I can’t believe you’re defending her. She’s totally unstable.”
“Or maybe you just shouldn’t touch girls if they didn’t say you could.”
“Whatever, man.” Brody spits blood on the floor. “Enjoy fucking an ice queen.”
Liam lifts the basketball