Hateful by Eden Beck

Chapter Seventeen

“It’s a relay race!”Neville says giddily, his face flushed with the rush of getting to be the first to announce it.

I rub my aching calves silently while he prattles on about it to Rafael. I’ve known the last event would be a relay race for weeks now. The more I run with Heath, the more I’m persuaded to actually take him up on his offer to run the race with them.

I don’t really know why. Something about running silently while he begs me from a couple paces behind really appeals to me; plus, I’ve noticed Jasper and Beck looking a little jumpy, speaking in low whispers about who’ll run the race with them. They seem scared that they won’t be able to find anyone, completely unaware that Heath has already asked me.

I get a little rush myself at the thought that they haven’t been able to find a suitable replacement. There are plenty of boys here that would do the job better than me.

I just can’t help but wonder if I’m not the only one who’s given them a no for an answer.

Maybe the rule of The Brotherhood is ending, even without Headmistress Robin’s interference.

I glance up as Jasper passes by our table. Neville continues on obliviously, speculating on who The Brotherhood will get to run the race with them. As he walks by, Jasper’s eyes meet mine for a brief second. I look away. I don’t want to think about him right now.

He’s already toyed enough with me. He knows what he has to do to get in my good graces, but as far as I can tell Heath is the only one making any effort to stand up to Beck.

Rafael watches our little exchange without comment, but I can tell by the way his lips twitch that he noticed. I bite into my banana with a shrug.

“What if they don’t find a fourth runner?” Rafael asks, interrupting Neville’s rambling.

He pauses, frowning. “I think they’ll be disqualified. You can’t have one person run two legs of the race.”

I see Jasper’s back stiffen as he walks to his table. He heard. He and Beck must really be worried about finding a fourth runner if it’s got them this worked up.

Maybe my speculation really isn’t too far off. No one wants to run with The Brotherhood.

It sends a shiver of pleasure up my spine.

“Maybe they should hold auditions,” Neville continues.

Rafael just snorts. “Who’s going to want that sort of pressure?”

“There’s a guy in my math class who talked about wanting to do it. Hayden?”

“Hayden!” Rafael barks out a laugh. “He just wants to show off in front of the girls’ school. And it won’t work,” he adds with disdain, pushing his spoon into his yogurt. “The Brotherhood would never consider him. Have you seen how short his legs are? He’s no good as a runner.”

But I am,I think. I’ve been training around the bends in the hiking trails every other day.

Heath even timed me once, though I can’t remember how I did, and I hated it so much when he wasn’t running beside me that I quashed down any ideas he had about doing it again.

I couldn’t stand the feel of his eyes on me, watching me like a hawk. It’s much better when the sound of his feet thudding against the earth is timed with mine. He might stare then too, but at least then I’m too focused on my own breathing, my own footsteps, my own sweat and burning lungs to pay any attention.

Heath and Beck are already at The Brotherhood’s usual lunch table. Jasper sits with them, slumps into his chair so heavily it almost looks like he tripped, and leans forward to put his head on the table. I can’t hear what they’re saying, but Beck shakes his head, and Heath reaches forward and lightly pats Jasper’s shoulder.

It’s an unusually soft gesture between them, and one that Beck doesn’t let go unnoticed. He leans back a bit, and it looks to me like he’s trying not to roll his eyes.

Heath’s eyes slip sideways to find mine. He lets the corner of his mouth twist up into a small smile and I return the expression before he looks away to nod at whatever Beck is saying. I squint my eyes. I’ve always been a terrible lip reader. For all I know, Beck could be talking about corn fields.

Though from the way the corner of his lip curls up, I doubt it’s something so innocuous.

“Hey. Earth to Alex.”

I tear my eyes away from The Brotherhood. Rafael and Neville both stare at me, Rafael with quiet judgment, Neville with bewilderment.

“I was just asking if you think they’ll hold tryouts for the relay race,” Neville says.

“Oh—sorry, Neville. Uh, I don’t. Knowing them, they’ve already got somebody.” I focus on my food tray so he won’t see the blush rising to my cheeks.

“They’ve been looking pretty worried for people who already have a plan,” Rafael points out.

Neville nods. I don’t say anything until the lunch bell rings, but I do keep trading little glances with Heath, hoping Rafael won’t notice.

But he does. He gives me a knowing look as we rise to leave the dining hall.

* * *

Heath grinsat me as I round the bend. “Will you say yes today?”

I smile back. It’s an empty question, because we both know I’ve already agreed deep down.

He asks me every day anyway, and just like always, I shrug and say, “I’m thinking about it.”

But I’m not thinking about it. I don’t think I really have a choice at this point.

Even if I disagree, he, Jasper, or Beck is going to find a way to force me to do it. I know it.

I just like pretending I still hold on to some semblance of control.

“Come on,” Heath sighs, falling in to run beside me like usual. “You’d be great for the third leg of the race! Jasper’s doing the first, I’m doing the second, and Beck’s doing the last one.”

I feel my stomach grow a little cold. I take a small wrong step and stumble a bit, but I keep going.

“Beck’s doing the fourth leg?”

Heath nods. “He may not look it, but he’s the fastest of us. We figure the girls will be front-loading their team—the fastest runners first, with the slowest on the third and fourth legs. So we thought we’d back-load ours. Put our fastest last.”

“But you want me to be in the third leg?”

“Yeah. You’ve gotten really fast. I’d say you’re faster than Jasper is.”

I’m not sure how to process this information, so I stay silent, not even acknowledging that Heath just admitted that I’m faster than him.

But I still can’t outrun Beck, apparently.

I slow my pace as we get to the break tree. Heath comes to a stop with me and promptly sits down on an exposed, gnarled root protruding from the ground.

“Snow’s really melted, huh?” he says conversationally.

“And the days are getting longer.” I lean against the trunk. It’s springtime already. I could even wear shorts if I wanted to. Not that I do.

I still can’t believe how quickly this semester has been flying by. Without Olive trying to get me killed and The Brotherhood’s antics reduced to just Beck, this year is going to be over before I know it.

Heath perks up beside me. “Yeah, they are! We have a lot more daylight to work with now. Wanna run for even longer, then?”

I grin. “I don’t see why not.”

So we do. We take off around our usual trail, then take an unfamiliar turn and go even further into the woods. The trees are closer together here. Late afternoon sunlight slices down through the treetops, pockmarking the ground with little spots of light between leaf-shaped shadows. There’s a dip in the trail here, and we both leap over it, laughing wildly. Heath grabs my hand and points to another.

This one we launch over together.

By the time we find where the trail loops back on itself to take us toward the school, we’re panting and sweaty, laughing at each other, pointing out all the dirt on each other’s shoes.

“Makes you miss the snow, doesn’t it?” Heath asks fondly as he smacks the side of his foot against a tree trunk.

“I don’t mind getting a little dirty,” I reply absently, kicking my own foot against a tree trunk.

“Oh?” Heath’s eyes sparkle at me.

I blush and turn my eyes away.

There’s a long moment of silence where a question seems to hang in the air, something left unsaid—but then Heath shouts “Race ya back!” and goes running down the trail at full tilt.

“No fair!” I race after him, laughing, my feet pelting the ground. He’s got a good head start, but I manage to catch up fairly quickly while he’s trying to round a corner. He’s right—I’ve gotten good at throwing myself around curves without losing any momentum. I overtake him, push past, and run straight off without him, leaving him in my dust.

He laughs and I hear him speed up behind me, but I stay ahead of him the whole way back to the first bend.

“I win!” I yell triumphantly, pushing my fists into the air.

He stops, panting, and smiles at me, his eyes lingering on my face and neck, slipping down my chest and stomach. I suddenly feel very exposed. I lower my arms and fold them around myself.

“This is where we split, huh?” I ask.

“I guess,” he replies, sounding a little reluctant. “We’ll know when our first practice is tomorrow. I’ll write you a note.”

“Okay.” I feel mildly self-conscious under his gaze. What is he looking for? Why doesn’t he just want to go ahead and split up like we usually do? Does he want to make a move?

Heath takes a step toward me, then hesitates, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “Well. See you around, then.” He turns and heads off in the direction he always goes after our runs.

“See you.” I turn and go my own way. My heart pounds, and I’m pretty sure it’s got nothing to do with how much I’ve been running.