Page 90 of Running With Lions

“Epic,” Willie says, standing carefully.

“A classic!” Hunter swoops in out of nowhere to help Willie.

Sebastian starts down the bleachers. His feet slow when his eyes find Emir, waiting: tightly-wound frame, shoulders hunched, hands shoved in the pockets of his shorts. The pinch of his mouth pulls his cheeks inward. His chin is lowered defiantly, but their eyes still meet.

“What’s wrong?”

“Don’t do that again,” Emir says, voice scratchy, angry. “I don’t need anyone saving me.”

“I didn’t—”

Emir cuts Sebastian off. “I’ve dealt with this for years, okay? Who cares if people don’t like me or want to be around me?”

Sebastian’s not expecting this. He still doesn’t know what to expect with him. Will it be a scowling Emir or maybe a laughs-at-all-of-Sebastian’s-stupid-jokes Emir?

“I’m not here to make friends,” Emir says gruffly; the edges of his mouth are tight. Obviously, Sebastian’s done nothing but piss Emir off since day one. “I’m here for my dad, that’s it. If you’re guilty over what happened a long time ago, don’t drag me into it. We stopped being friends, and Isurvived.”

Trying to lower his anger to a simmer, Sebastian flexes his fingers.

“Don’t be a hero.”

And that’s what makes his blood boil. This isn’t all his fault. Doesn’t Emir get that? It’s Sebastian’sjobto play peacemaker. He’s been doing this since way before Emir decided to try out. It hasn’t changed.Sebastian hasn’t changed.

“Fine.” An ache throbs from Sebastian’s temples to his eye sockets. “Do whatever,mate, ’cause I just—I don’t know what the hell I was doing. It’s not like I’m your—” Sebastian can’t man up enough to say the word he’s supposed to.

Emir lifts his chin. “Yeah, you’renot.”

Clouds swarm overhead, hiding some of the sunlight. This is the part where Sebastian’s supposed to tell Emir he expects them to still be friends when camp’s over and school starts. That he hopes they’ll be a lot more, too. That this isn’t a summer fling, a casual hookup, and that he’s tired of Emir being blasé, so unreadable that Sebastian’s confused and desperate. But he’s so exhausted, he can’t figure out where to start.

Emir’s hand sweeps over his face into his hair. When it drops away, his face is blank. He walks away without a word.

25

The days are still humidand warm, but the sky turns plush pink, then deep blue-gray sooner. Sunsets bring a comfortable chill, a sure sign of an early autumn. Camp’s over but for the bonfire tonight. Sebastian’s managed to survive the past few days solely on routine, something he’s good at. Tomorrow afternoon, they’ll pile in Mason’s car to go back to Bloomington.

Then it’s school and a lengthy countdown to graduation.

Sebastian’s been avoiding anxiety-driven thoughts about life after high school. He takes in the low sun, orange like the top of a Dum-Dum lollipop, and appreciates the steady warmth.

Classic Oakville. Next summer, who knows where he’ll be, how nice the weather will be, if he’ll ever feel like this again.

Sebastian wants to get wasted, not on cheap beer, but on the buzz of summer. Maybe he can get so blitzed he won’t have to wake up tomorrow hungover by reality.

The pitch is green and prickly under Sebastian’s hands. “What a world,” he says softly. Earthy scents and dank heat fill his nose. Damp with sweat, his shirt sticks to his chest. He’s bumming away the hours until dinner.

Practice today was long and grueling, but it didn’t suck. The team was in sync. Sebastian thanks Grey for that.

He pulls his knees close to his chest. Absently, his fingers run a short length across the inside of his forearm. He’ll have a nasty bruise tomorrow after blocking an attack from Robbie, but, whatever. It was worth it. In fact, the whole day was sweet.

“I thought you played with balls in your spare time? You suck!”

Willie says, breathlessly, “Whatever, Riley. I get no complaints about the way Ihandleballs, thank you.”

Mason and Willie are having their annual keepie-uppies challenge. The contest is an excuse for Mason to show off and for Willie to prove himself. He’s been saving whatever strength he has left in his knee for this day. Sebastian always wipes the green with both of them, but today he doesn’t have it in him. Instead, he observes fondly.

He would’ve never made it on the team without them. He wouldn’t have made it throughhigh schoolwithout them. Maybe if he and Emirhad stayed friends…

Sebastian groans. He’s gone three days—three whole days—avoiding Emir. It’s easiest during meals, since Emir never sat with them anyway, but the solo morning jogs, evenings spent in his own bed, and especially practices are all tedious and draining.

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