Page 74 of The Sun
Elias
Monday morning, Brandon came steamrolling through the halls, varsity jacket in place and his gaze honed in on me.
I stopped by the emergency exit to the stairwell with a smile, just waiting.
“What the hell, Black?” That was the most commanding I had ever heard his voice.
I glanced at the textbook in his hand and squared my shoulders. “Might wanna make sure you have both hands free.”
He didn’t drop the book, but he did grab me and pin me to the wall.
Laughing, I bit at my lip to stave off the sudden bout of heat that fired through my muscles. I didn’t like being against the wall, but he had every right to be pissed at me.
“Why would you do that to her?” He dug the heel of his hand into my clavicle.
I didn’t have an answer. At least not one I would admit to Golden Boy. People began to congregate around us, waiting for the inevitable alpha-male showdown prone to high school hallways.
“Let. Go of me,” I said. It wasn’t a plea or a request. It was a warning. I stood a good three inches taller than Brandon, and unlike him, I didn’t grow up in a household were privilege maintained pride. I grew up where you scrapped to settle differences.
Brandon’s brows pinched together, and he took shallow breath after shallow breath. He was scared, but the thing he most likely couldn’t pick up on: I was terrified. If I knocked him out, Sunny would never forgive me—not that I expected much from her in the way of forgiveness, but this would be crossing new lines. It would be the guy she used to love hurting the guy she currently loved.
“McClure.” I raised my chin. “Step back.”
He swallowed, and the seconds ticked by, our eyes locked. “Even if she wasn’t mine,” he said, “she’s too good for you.”
My pulse spun up like a tornado, ripping and shredding every bit of control I had. I grabbed the collar of his jacket and yanked him eye level to me before I threw him on the ground. The wordstoo goodbounced around my skull like a loose cannon. My forearm was over his throat within a millisecond, my knee in his groin, and my nose to his.
“If I didn’t think. . .” I choked on the wordsshe loved you. They were like thorns ripping apart my throat. Some terrible poison threatening a slow death that I had to expel. As much as I wanted to punch him right in the face, I loved her more than I hated him. And I wanted him to know it.
“Elias!” Sunny stood at the end of the hall, shouting my name over and over like I was the villain in all of this.
I shoved Brandon into the floor one good time, then climbed to my feet and backed away step by step. He shot up, rubbing at the red mark on his throat, never breaking our stare down. Sunny sprinted down the hallway. The soles of her shoes skidded over the floor when she grabbed Brandon’s shirt to keep from slipping right past him. Her brow creased. I saw her lips form:Are you okaybefore she cupped his cheeks and checked him over. Watching her love him like that was too much.
Balling my fist, I turned toward the emergency stairwell and shoved it open. The bustle from the hallway went silent when the door banged shut behind me, the stale aroma of cigarettes surrounded me, and my uneven breaths amplified in the enclosed space. I made it down three—maybe four steps before I sat, elbows on my knees and my head hung. Blood pulsed through my ears, adrenaline crackled through my veins like an angry wildfire, and I hated myself.
I started out in ratty clothes with dirty hair. I swore because I didn’t know better, and I stole because my maw told me that’s how we survived. Then the Lower’s took me in, and I realized my parents had been wrong. I didn’t have to take any more beatings or steal, and I understood that some people were just good.
Sunny was damn good, and as far as everyone else was concerned, I wasn’t.
The problem was, I didn’t grow up wanting to be the bad boy. Everyone knows he breaks the good girl’s heart, and I never wanted to hurt her, but here I was. Hurting her. Hurting us.
The lock to the door clicked, the door closed, and then there were one, two, three footfalls.
“What’s your deal?” Her voice didn’t sound near as sweet laced with anger like that.
I rubbed over my arms, debating on whether to answer her.
Sunny took another step, her standing shadow towered over mine on the wall. “You could have hurt him.” Jesus, she sounded sad. Heartbroken. And I felt worthless, but I still managed to roll my eyes because they had both hurt me in ways that don’t heal.
It’s better this way.I shoved to my feet.
When I went to brush past her, she snagged my hand. Her fingers almost threaded through mine, and damn, if such a simple touch didn’t nearly bring me to my knees.
“Answer me,” she whispered. The smell of candy and vanilla wrapped around me like a cocoon when she stepped closer. She took a few shallow breaths then wet her lips. “Why are you so mad at him?”
I couldn’t help myself, I just wanted to touch her, so I brushed my knuckles over her soft cheek. I leaned down so close I could kiss her if I were a little less nice. I felt my brows pull together, my chest went all tight like my ribcage might just explode into shrapnel that would pierce us both. The answer was simple: “Because you used to be mine.”
Her eyes slammed shut, then her chin fell to her chest. “I’m still yours.” It came out so low I almost didn’t hear her.
