Page 42 of Between Love and War
He grins. “Why are you shocked?”
“You’re just… not very lawyerly.”
“Lawyerly?”
“I don’t know. Serious. Professional.”
Richard gasps, clutching his chest. “Wow. Defamed in the middle of Magnolia Market. I’m hurt, Lee.”
“You’re proving my point,” I deadpan.
“At least I’m not getting caught at midnight playing basketball with the sweetest girl in town.” He scoffs.
I freeze mid-step. “What?”
Richard smirks, all too pleased with himself. “You think the teenagers on the balcony kept that quiet? Half the town knows.”
I groan. “It’s just a playful evening.”
“This isn’t a press conference, you can be honest with me,” he says. “You like her?”
“I don’t.” And it’s true.
“Hey, Kate!” he says, turning behind me. I immediately look. My mistake.
“Thought so.” He smiles.
We pass the stall where Kate bought the fruits last time I saw her. I stop to get some bananas as the man behind the stall looks at me like I’m some criminal. “Are you courting our Katherine?” he asks as he hands me the paper bag.
“What? No.” I take it and pay him.
“So are you just playing her?” he replies.
“I’m not—” I sigh. “I was playing basketball with her. That’s it, sir.” I don’t stay to collect my change, and go straight to the next stall where Richard’s laughing his way to Freida selling tea.
“Geez,” I say. “Everyone’s meddling.”
“With what? Yourrelationship?” He laughs.
“Why are you so hell-bent on roasting me?” I ask. “Are you the one who likes her?”
“What? No, no. Not Kate.” His voice is quick, almost defensive, and then his expression shifts into something unreadable. A flicker of something I can’t name. Sadness? Embarrassment? Whatever it is, it passes before I can call him out. He grabs the paper bag of tea and nods toward the exit. “Come on.”
From a distance I see Bon and Haley walking toward us. Bon’s skipping while holding two fruit shakes in one hand and a paper plate of kwek-kwek in the other. Haley’s trailing behind her, shouting something about her spilling sauce.
It’s distracting enough that I miss the uneven patch of street right in front of me. My sneaker catches on the edge of loose concrete, and instinctively I sidestep straight into the edge of a metal stall post.
“Ow, shit—” I hiss, jerking my hand back. Blood beads instantly where the rusty corner caught me.
“Oh my gosh!” Bon’s voice cuts through the noise. She and Haley rush over, fruit shakes forgotten. “You’re bleeding!”
“It’s fine,” I start, but Bon’s already gasping like I’ve been stabbed.
“It’s not fine. Ryan! We need Ryan!” she shouts. Freida also panics and calls for help.
“Everyone, it’s just a scratch,” I protest, but no one is listening.
Haley cranes her neck to look, wincing dramatically. “Ew. That’s deep. You might need stitches. Or, like… a tetanus shot. Do you have your anti-tetanus? Do basketball players even get those?”
