Page 42 of Redemption
He’s wearing a smirk, and I’m afraid my heart will fall right out of my chest when his lips tilt up a little higher, and he winks.
Since the day he stole my first kiss, Hayes and I have been playing a dangerous game.
Can it really be considered stealing when you willingly handed it to him, though?
I don’t know.
All I know is that I would give him my whole world if he would just ask.
Unfortunately for me, though, he does not. He’s content to keep that kiss a secret and send me heated looks when he knows Langston’s not watching, and I outwardly flirt, making it hard for him to ignore me.
I mean, I get it—he’s my brother’s best friend, but at the same time, man up—you know?
Making a show, I blow him a kiss, and Langston glares at me, shaking his head.
He’s told me a million times to leave Hayes alone because I’m being a nuisance, but he doesn’t know about that kiss.
As the boys return to their practice, I run my fingers along my lips where I swear, sometimes, I can still feel Hayes’s lips scorched onto mine.
One day, I’m going to walk right up to Hayes and kiss him in front of everyone because here’s the thing: I might put on this mask so that everyone thinks I’m wild and free and unable to be tamed, but really, I’m just a scared girl trying to figure out who I am. So the idea of walking up to Hayes and kissing him only for him to reject me scares me because he’s the only person that’s ever really seen the real me. He doesn’t judge me for wanting to be different from the daughter my parents wanted or the mistakes I continuously make in my search for the girl I am. Instead, he listens when I talk and laughs at my mistakes so I can, too.
My attention must have strayed for too long because before I know it, the final whistle is blowing, signaling the end of practice.
Gathering my backpack, I sling it across my shoulder and take the bleacher steps two at a time. This has become my routine. I wait around at practice, making sure that Langston is okay, and then I pray I get the chance to talk to Hayes before his fan girl club shows up and surrounds him. I’m like a dog with a bone, hoping that Hayes throws me a little scrap of attention.
Gosh, I’m pathetic.
Maybe I should go on a date?
I mean, I’m seventeen, and I’ve yet to go on an actual date. I know some of that is because Langston is an overprotective jerk. He acts like I don’t know that he threatened the entire football team my Freshman year, but I’m not that dumb. Besides, the football boys are not the only guys in the school. If I tried, I could find someone else, but the problem is I don’t want to.
Sighing, I lean against the metal building outside the locker room and wait for my daily interaction with a boy who will never really allow himself to see me as more than his best friend’s little sister.
Langston is the first one out of the locker room, and he gives me a strange look when he sees me standing there.
“Are you waiting for me?” he asks.
“No, but I see our conversation went in one ear and out the other. Should have seen that one coming.”
He shifts his bag higher on his shoulder and avoids my gaze. “Can we not do this? I made my decision. Get off my back about it.”
I dig my fingers into one of the screws on the metal, letting its edges dig into my skin to ground me. “That’d be easier if I thought it was your decision.”
A flash of hurt bolts across his face, but I ignore it. I can’t remember one time I’ve ever actually been mad at my brother,but right now, anger boils under my skin. I can’t understand what hold my parents have over him. Sure, everyone wants to please their parents, including me, but not to my own detriment.
“I’m not having this conversation again. The decision has been made, so drop it. But speaking of decisions—stop making bad ones when it comes to Hayes. Leave him alone. He doesn’t see you that way, and you’re embarrassing yourself.”
My head whips back as if he slapped me.
In that moment, it’s my father’s son standing in front of me, not my brother. He picked his words carefully, ones that he knew would sting. Although, I should be used to it. Mom tells me all the time how embarrassing I am. Yet, those words coming out of Langston’s mouth cut deeper than any knife could have. Swallowing hard, I let my mask fall over my face—the one I’ve perfected. It says that I couldn’t care less what others think about me, but under it, I worry I’ll bleed out from the wound Langston just delivered.
Standing tall, I square my shoulders and face off with my big brother—the boy I’ve looked up to my entire life. “Message received, L. In more ways than one.”
He huffs and shoves his hands through his hair, still not meeting my gaze.
“I didn’t mean it like that. I—” he starts, but I put my hand up, stopping him.
“I’ve heard what I need to, and I’m sorry you find me so embarrassing.”
