Hateful by Eden Beck

Chapter Nineteen

There’ssomething strangely nostalgic about practice with The Brotherhood again.

But unlike the last time I spent this much time with all three of them, the practices actually go pretty well.

Grabbing the baton isn’t as easy as it looks. I have to start running before Heath even gets to me with it, but we master our handoff pretty easily. I have more and more issues with Beck.

I shoot around the curve for what feels like the hundredth time this afternoon; the stadium lights have come on, letting us know that the sun is almost completely set. We’ve moved outside to the actual track now that the weather has warmed up enough. Ahead of me, I see Beck’s tall form start to jog as I get closer, his left hand reaching back, fingers outstretched.

I push myself to sprint a little faster, stretching my arm out, slapping the baton into his palm. His fingers wrap around it, gripping it tight before he launches himself forward with the momentum he’s gathered, and—drops it. The baton hits the ground with an unceremonious thump.

“Beck!” I yell in frustration, the first time I’ve spoken in an hour. I’ve just been letting the boys tell me what to do. This is their competition, after all, and the last thing I’m going to do is get myself in trouble with them over something I frankly don’t give a shit about.

Well, outside of my own innate competitiveness thanks to the four brothers I grew up with.

Beck, meanwhile, doesn’t seem keen to take responsibility for anything. Not with me here.

“It’s your fault!” he yells back as soon as he’s able to whirl around to face me.

But I’m not having it. “I put it directly into your hand,” I snap. “You can’t blame this one on me.”

He grits his teeth as he snatches the baton up off the ground with a hiss before stomping off to clear his head.

“If this handoff doesn’t get done, we’re toast,” Jasper moans after a second. This isn’t the first time this has played out the same way.

Heath sighs and runs his hands through his hair, which is damp from sweat. “Let’s call it a night. We can pick this up on Thursday.”

“The race is Saturday,” Beck snaps angrily, whirling back once more to face all three of us this time. “And we don’t have practice tomorrow because of my remedial exam.”

Remedial exam?

My ears prick up at the sound of it. Beck’s smart. He’s the last person I expected to be doing make-up exams. Usually The Brotherhood just has to bat an eyelash in the professor’s direction and suddenly they don’t need to retake the test at all.

“That’s why I said Thursday, not tomorrow,” Heath replies, quirking one eyebrow. “We’re all exhausted. It’s not gonna do us any good to practice as worn-out as we are now.”

He has a point. My legs feel a little jelly-like as I reach down and rub my calves.

“We’ll just have to focus extra hard on Thursday.”

Beck scowls. He throws the baton onto the ground so hard it makes a sharp crack. Jasper rushes over to snatch it up, but Beck’s already turned his back and is storming off toward the locker rooms.

I go stand next to Heath and watch Jasper pick up the baton and inspect it. Thankfully, it’s not the one we’ll actually be using during the race, otherwise we’d already be out by half a dozen of them.

I take a deep breath, enjoying—just for a moment—the absence left behind in Beck’s wake.

“Since there’s no practice, I’m going to run tomorrow after class,” I say, glancing across the track towards the forest. It’s been a while now since I was allowed to disappear beneath those branches. I find myself itching to feel the rough trails beneath my feet, to smell the pine and damp earth.

Running the track is nice and all, but it’s not the same.

Especially when my trail running is as much about solitude as it is the actual running. Heath gives me a sideways look, which I return with raised eyebrows.

Well, almost solitude.

“Your usual time?”

I nod, and he mirrors me.

“Fine then,” he says. “Meet you at the bend.”

Ahead of us, Jasper straightens up with the baton in hand. He holds it up to the light and squints at it for a second before announcing that it’s not broken after all.

Not that it really matters. These boys could afford to buy an entire stadium full of batons if they wanted.

Beside me, Heath just grins even wider and nudges me playfully with his elbow before heading off to the locker room. It’s a motion that Jasper doesn’t miss. He scowls at Heath’s back for a second before following after him a few paces behind.

I walk straight back to my dorm to shower, grateful that for once Beck isn’t here to hassle me into following after them. I don’t want to deal with any locker room situations, especially not alone with The Brotherhood. Not one member of faculty has come out to supervise our practices. I’d be defenseless in there with them.

I let myself into the hallway that leads back into the school from the track. I’m hyper-aware that the next hallway over is the school records room, where I’m supposed to get those records for the headmistress.

I can’t see myself actually doing it now, not with the way things have been quickly changing for the better with The Brotherhood … but I also know she can get me expelled. I wrap my arms around myself as I creep down the hallway, trying not to think about it—but definitely thinking about it anyway.

“Alex! Wait up!”

My stomach clenches and I freeze out of habit. I hear a door shut, and as I look over my shoulder, Jasper comes jogging down the hall.

I turn and keep walking.

“Alex, please,” he says, but I don’t look back.

I don’t want to talk to him. He comes up beside me anyway, his dirty running clothes slung over his shoulder. He still smells slightly of sweat, and his hair is damp, meaning he didn’t shower in the locker room. Did he skip out on it so he could catch up to me?

“Alex, there’s something I have to—”

“I’m not talking to you,” I say, keeping my eyes trained forward as I quicken my pace. I’ve refused to speak to him since our last real conversation. There’s no point, not when I have nothing to say to him until he’s ready to admit the truth.

“But you just did.”

I shoot him a glare and the smile on his face dies and falls away.

“Sorry,” he mumbles. “It’s just that—I need to tell you—”

“Piss off, Jasper,” I snap, jerking toward the dorm wing.

“It’s important!”

I roll my eyes.

“Just—what are you wearing on Saturday? To the race?” he asks.

Are you kidding me?This is what was so important he had to track me down?

For some reason, this infuriates me more than anything he could have possibly said. I stop in my tracks for a second. Of course what Jasper is worried about is how he and his team are going to look in front of everyone else.

Here I was thinking he might actually have something heartfelt to say for once. I should have known better.

I glance around the empty hallways. What have I been practicing for if not something like this? I don’t want to talk to Jasper, so I take off running instead, climbing easily into a full sprint. Jasper shouts from behind me, but I already know he’s slower than I am.

I pull easily away from him and take the stairs two at a time up to my dorm.

Rafael looks up in surprise when I burst in. He and Neville sit cross-legged on the floor, each of them holding a handful of cards.

“Hey there, Alex,” Neville says brightly, if not a little confusedly.

Rafael, meanwhile, looks at me carefully. “How’d practice go?”

I pull off my hoodie and throw it into my hamper without saying anything. The motion seems to get the message across just as well.

Neville glances at Rafael, then back at me. “Maybe I should get going …”

“No, Neville, you’re fine,” I say with a sigh. He only seems to have one friend, and that’s Rafael. I’m not about to send him packing just because he doesn’t know I don’t have a dong. “Just be careful. Rafael cheats at cards.”

“Hey!” Rafael says indignantly as I pass by them. That, at least, makes me crack a smile.

* * *

When I roundthe bend on my run the next day, I immediately recognize there’s something strange about Heath. He’s just … leaning against a tree, arms folded, a frown creasing his brow as he stares down at his feet.

But it’s less about his posture, I realize as I draw close. It’s the expression on his face.

It’s pensive … and not necessarily in a good way.

“Hey,” I call as I jog closer.

He jumps, startled, and looks at me like he wasn’t expecting me—which is weird, since we literally talked about this yesterday.

“Why the long face?” I joke, even as I have to stifle the slight crack in my voice. Is there something wrong?

“Long face?” he repeats quickly. “What long face? My face isn’t long. I’m fine. Shall we go?” And then he starts off at a brisk jog down the trail before giving me the chance to reply.

No smiling. No flirting. Something is definitely wrong.

I go after him, staying a few paces back. What is it that’s bothering him? Is it something he doesn’t want to tell me? Something he’s embarrassed about? He’s uncharacteristically silent with no quips or jokes as we make our way to the break tree.

It’s been a long times since these runs stopped being silent. Now the quiet feels unnerving.

“Heath,” I say seriously as we slow to a stop beneath our usual tree, my eyes cutting over to him out of my peripherals.

“Hm?” He hovers near his usual spot without sitting like he usually does.

“What’s going on?”

“Nothing. Why do you ask?” He scuffs his toe on the ground in front of him. His weight shifts back and forth, and I do my best not to focus on his thighs in the silky running shorts he’s wearing again. Those shorts should not be worn by teenage boys.

Just saying. They’re distracting to say the least.

I eye Heath a little more closely, not trying to hide it this time. “You’re acting weird.”

“I’m not,” he quips back, a little too quickly.

I raise my eyebrows at him. He balks a little and turns his head away. He knows he’s acting weird, and I know something’s up. What is it? Why won’t he tell me?

“All right,” I say patiently, shoving my hands into my hoodie pockets. “You want to cut our break short, then?”

“Yeah. Sounds good.” He turns on his heel and takes off again.

I’m caught off guard, but I manage to wrench my hands out of my pockets and follow him for some more awkward, silent running. Normally he’s shooting me looks. Normally he’s behind me. Normally I set the pace.

I go to veer toward the longer route we’ve been taking lately, but Heath sees me out of the corner of his eye and stops. “Where are you going?”

I point down the trail, hesitating only for a moment.

He shakes his head at me. “Let’s just do our old route. We’ve been practicing every day, anyway. Don’t want to tire our legs out.”

I stare at him for a moment. “Okay,” I say slowly. “I could probably use the extra practice, though, so I’ll go this way, and you can cut your run short.”

He shakes his head more fervently this time. “You can’t be by yourself. Wolves, remember?”

“Have you seen one wolf?” I ask exasperatedly. “Besides, I was running this trial for ages before you forced yourself on me.”

He balks a bit at my words, but he doesn’t take the bait.

“No, but I’ve definitely seen tracks,” he replies, sounding a bit more like himself. “And I don’t exactly want you to get attacked out there in the woods.”

“So what happens if we get attacked together, hm?”

“Then I protect you,” he says firmly.

I clamp my mouth shut. I have no idea what to say to that. He beckons me to follow, and wordlessly, I do, my mind still reeling. He’ll protect me? What the hell? Where did this come from?

It’s not like he’s ever made a move to protect me before. Not from Beck, anyway.

We follow our old route, the short one where we do a single loop around the trail and head back. It’s boring and unchallenging, which isn’t helped by the fact that Heath seems to want to stay ahead of me, so I have to hang back. We end up at the first bend in even less time than usual.

“You wanna tell me what’s up?” I ask as we arrive.

“Nothing.”

I stare at him suspiciously for a little while longer. I can’t think of any more ways to ask him what’s going on. I watch him fidget in front of me.

“Why are you lying to me?” I ask finally.

“I’m not lying,” he replies defensively. A sure sign he’s lying.

I roll my eyes. If he’s just going to keep lying like this, then there’s no reason for me to ask him any more questions.

“Okay. Fine then. See you at practice tomorrow.”

I turn and head off the same way I usually do, running directly toward the school and its courtyard. I don’t know what’s gotten into him, but it gives me a pit in my stomach.

* * *

I thoughtI was finished with Jasper, but it seems not.

The head of The Brotherhood tries to get me by myself no less than five times before lunch. I dodge him when I can, but he’s crafty, and he knows my smoking spot. I eventually have to rely on Rafael to stick with me everywhere I go.

“Alex,” he calls after me impatiently when I, yet again, duck into a separate hallway just to avoid him several days later.

I try to push myself into the crowd, but he grabs ahold of my backpack and tugs me toward him. I stumble backward into his chest.

“Let me go, Jasper,” I growl.

“I want to warn you,” he says in a low voice, his breath on my neck. I shiver despite myself. I may be trying to avoid him but he’s still hot.

Too hot. He makes me grow weak in the knees … and even weaker in my resolution to stay away from him.

“Jasper.” I glance up at him, truly meeting his eyes for the first time in weeks. He looks startled, and I feel his grip loosen on my backpack.

But not that weak.

I wrench myself away. “Leave me alone,” I snap, turning to disappear into the crowd. I hear him yell after me, but his voice is lost in the hubbub. I don’t need his help, or his warnings, whatever they are.

Why is everyone acting so weird? The only person who’s doing exactly what I expect of them is Beck.

When I walk into my next class, he nonchalantly trips me, then yells at me for being too clumsy and “jeopardizing our chances at winning the relay race”. Later, at the dining hall, he slaps my food out of my hands and sends it sprawling in messy chunks on the floor.

“Beck,” Heath says with an edge in his voice, narrowly dodging the spoon from my mashed potatoes. “Chill.”

Beck glowers at him and moves away from me. Practice is sure going to be fun tonight.

At least there’s one sure thing I can count on.