Page 28 of Every Hidden Truth

“Gross metaphor,” Ben said.

Harris stood, a look of determination on his face. “Okay. Yeah, I can do that.”

“There you go!” I said.

“Go get her, man.” Jordan thumped him on the back.

Harris nodded. “Okay.”

He straightened his clothes, touching his collar like he was going to tighten a tie that wasn’t there. With one last panicked look at the three of us, he rushed after the two girls.

“She is gonna eat him alive,” Jordan said.

“Yeah,” I agreed. “It’s gonna be awesome.

9

Faggot Alert

For the rest ofthe week, Ben and I were the talk of the school gossip chain. I was used to it, and Ben didn’t seem to care. He ignored the stupid giggles and hushed whispers, proudly walking with me in the hallways hand-in-hand. He kissed me at my locker and after class and never hesitated to circle the back of my chair with his arm during lunch.

Whether because Ben was nicer than I was or more of a physical threat, he didn’t receive the treatment I had feared. Girls fawned over him more than ever—which annoyed me to no end—and Thompson and his posse kept their insults at a minimum when Ben was present.

Of course, when I was alone, I was still fair game.

Thankfully, Ben had allies on his swim team. Ronnie, Julian, and a few others openly defended him against the individuals who made a fuss, and the majority of the others simply didn’t care.

I was glad. Even if it meant that I shouldered most of the rude comments, I would remain the target. Ben was too good for this place, and I refused to allow anyone to hurt him if I could help it.

Every day after school, Ben walked me to the parking lot to drop me at my truck before going to practice. This had become our routine ever since the play ended.

Our elbows brushed as we strode down the gym hallway. We passed the pool room and voices echoed from within. I could see a few stray basketball players through the open gym doors, standing on the court with the coach as they awaited the rest of the team.

The majority of the people in the hall were athletes on their way to their respective practices, but a couple stragglers like me scurried along to the parking lot.

When we rounded the corner and I caught sight of the bathroom where Eric had cornered me two months ago, I subconsciously took Ben’s hand. He didn’t comment, but he squeezed my hand in silent support. Like he knew exactly why I’d sought comfort. Sometimes, I felt like he knew my thoughts better than I did.

Unfortunately, the bathroom wasn’t the only sight to send ice trickling through my veins. Ben stiffened beside me in the same moment that my heart jumped into my throat as we watched a group of four guys making a ruckus outside the wrestlers’ practice room. Two guys built like boulders guffawed as a shorter, rat-faced blond made an obscene, sexual motion with his body. And, lounging against the wall, watching with a smirk, stood Eric Boyt.

His dark hair was recently trimmed, and his biceps rippled as he scrubbed the crew cut. Broad and thick, it was no wonder why he was one of our school’s top wrestlers. I shivered as I remembered the feel of his massive body trapping me against the hard wall.

“Just keep walking.” Ben rubbed the back of my hand with his thumb. “Don’t stop.”

I summoned all my sub-par acting skills and set my expression into one of neutral boredom. I’d use the apathy as a shield to protect me from what was most likely going to be a rather unpleasant encounter. Even if we ignored them, there was little chance they’d let us by unscathed. I didn’t care what they said or did to me, but Eric’s hatred for Ben scared me.

He had threatened Ben, and, instead of submitting to him, I’d punched him in the balls. Not exactly the right course of action when I wanted to protect Ben. Not that Ben needed protecting; he was pretty badass without my help.

The closer we got, the more rigid Ben became, and it was my turn to squish his fingers in comfort and assurance. His blue eyes frosted, alert and wary, and he set his jaw as Eric rumbled something to his friends. It sounded suspiciously like, “I bet she was asking for it,” and my stomach soured.

One of the boulders spotted us first, and he nudged his doppelganger. Were they brothers? They didn’t exactly look alike, but their matching complexion and body type seemed too coincidental.

“Faggot alert,” Ratatouille snickered, and Thing One and Two crossed their bulging arms over their chests in a show of intimidation.

“Wow, real original.” I feigned amazement as Ben openly glared. “Hope you didn’t spend too much time coming up with that. I know how hard it is for you to think, and I would hate for all that effort to go to waste.”

Ratatouille screwed up his face in confusion at my words, confirming my point, and a small dry laugh escaped my throat. I held my head high and my shoulders straight as I portrayed false bravado, and Ben shot me a chiding look. He quickened hispace as we made to pass the group, my fingers aching from our desperate grip.

Of course, it wasn’t going to be that simple. Thing One and Two blocked our escape as Ratatouille giggled like a kid in the candy store, eyes gleaming. Eric didn’t move a muscle. He observed the confrontation, his dark stare coating my skin like oil.

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