Page 81 of Make Me Pretty
I look between his balled-up hands. “Well, since it’syouwho came to find me after you fuckinglost,I’d say it’s you.”
“I think it’s finally time I kick—” My head jerks in the same direction as Jordan’s, watching as Abel strides over with his ratty backpack hanging from his shoulder. My eyes narrow as I watch Jordan’s widen.
“Hey.” I snap my fingers in front of him. “Over here.”
“Who are you?” Jordan says, ignoring me entirely.
“Who the fuck areyou?” Abel retorts, one brow arched high. My lips twitch, for the first time grateful for his bratty attitude.
“Woo-hoo.” Jordan chuckles as Abel plops down beside me. His skirt fluffs out, drawing my attention to his thighs. His bare,hairlessthighs with visible, silver scars. My fingers find his skin of their own volition, fingertips tracing a warped smiley face. I swallow at the tingling sensation of soft skin and Abel’s hitch of breath.
“Yo, Baxter, I didn’t know you were a queer.”
The whole world turns on the spot. Brakes screech. A sharp scream. Muscles contract. Fingers flex.
“Excuse me?” My voice sounds far away, echoing with the distance. Purple and blue and brown bleed into a vortex of impossibility.
“You know, afaggot,” he sneers. And for the first time in my life, Iget it.The shame and embarrassment andragethat comes when someone spews their hate. When it’s directed at you. Likeyou’rethe problem.
My throat aches with the urge to tell Abel how sorry I am. Gabe, too. But it won’t make a difference now, so I shove that down, buried in the box I keep locked up tight. Where Luke and disgust and truth reside, to focus on the one thing that’s always made sense to me.
Anger.
I’m on my feet and in Jordan’s face in the next second. We’re so close, our noses bump together, drawing a hiss from my lips as sparks shoot behind my eyes. “Fuck did you just say to me?”
“Isaid,for the third fucking time, you’re afag—” I’m wrenched to the side seconds before a sharp little fist connects with the side of Jordan’s face. He stumbles backward before falling to his ass, hands clutching his jaw.
I stare at him with wide eyes, at the stark, red mark blooming along his cheekbone before I glance to my right, where I find Abel with his hands fisted in front of him, little chest heaving amidst his anger.
His nostrils are flared, cheeks blushed a vivid pink, lips fish hooked into that awful, ugly sneer of his. And I’mso fucking hard.
“Jesus, Abel,” I breathe out, eyes flashing between him and Jordan. “You punched him in the face.”
“He fucking deserved it,” is all he says through clenched teeth. “And it’s not like you were gonna do shit about it.”
“Excuse—”
“You just fucking hit me!” Jordan bellows as he clumsily pushes to his feet. The second he takes a step toward us, I move in front of Abel, blocking him from sight, one arm wound behind me to pin him against my back.
“If I were you, I’d get on the fucking bus and go home, Bates.”
“You’re kidding if you think?—”
“I’ll fucking do it again!” Abel shouts at my back, pushing around my right side. “Come a little closer, bitch.”
Jordan’s jaw drops. “Bitch?—”
“Go.Now.Or I’ll make sure your coach finds out about your hateful comments. That’ll definitely fuck up your chance at scholarships.”
That seems to snap him out of his fit. With a sneer and a bright red face, he flips us off as he walks away.
When the door slams shut behind him, I blow out a breath, fingers already digging through my hair to yank on the strands, finding little comfort in the usual sharp tug.
The gym is quiet in its vacancy, each breath seeming to echo in its emptiness. I focus on the sound, the rolling vibrations as I try to steady my breath, but Abel’s shoes squeak on the floor beside me. His breath punches out faster, disrupting the rhythm.
His body smells of fucking sweat and cherries, and Ican’t take it.
My fingers find his throat, wrapping around the circumference and shoving him back into the bleachers. He falls backward, arms flailing as his back connects with rows of plastic seats. “Hey—” he squeaks, nails scoring the back of my hand as he fights for air.
