Hateful by Eden Beck
Chapter Twenty-Three
I’ve never had verygood upper-body strength—even now, with all this running, my legs are where my muscles are. I’ve never won an arm-wrestling match.
My arms are basically useless.
And now, out in the middle of the woods with someone too weak to walk, I’m the only one who can drag them to safety.
“Sorry,” I mumble to Heath as I wrap his bloody arms around my shoulders. I drape him across my back and try to lift with my legs, wearing him like a sort of cape or a really heavy backpack.
His feet find the ground. He tries to help me, tries to waddle along and propel himself of his own volition. I appreciate the effort, but it’s like adding flailing limbs to an already near-lifeless ragdoll.
“Alex,” he mutters, making me pause. He sounds more coherent than he did a minute ago. For one terrifying minute I thought I’d lost him already. His feet move a little faster, trying their best to help even thought his body is basically limp.
“Hey,” I say over my shoulder through gritted teeth, trying to keep the panic out of my voice. Sweat drips from my forehead. “You doing okay?”
“Hurts,” he grunts again.
“I know.” I bite at my lower lip and try not to look at the bleeding wound on his upper thigh. I tried to tie it off with the string from my hoodie, but it’s already soaked through.
If only I was stronger.
I stumble over a root and almost lose my grip. He groans in pain as I readjust my hold on him.
“I’m trying to help you.”
“I know.” His voice is soft, but not fading. I take that as a good sign. I have to take that as a good sign. His arms tighten around my shoulders and I feel his legs start to take up more of his own weight.
I move a little faster.
After a while, Heath regains consciousness and strength enough to limp beside me some on his own, though with his arm still thrown over my shoulder and mine tight around his waist, supporting him.
I know he shouldn’t be putting any weight on his leg, but I can’t support him fully on my own. Not if we’re going to get back to the school before he’s lost an irreversible amount of blood.
We near the first bend where he usually splits off from me. He can’t walk on his own. I bring him with me toward the school’s courtyard, and thankfully, he doesn’t protest.
“Do you want to split up?” I ask him as we limp laboriously toward the courtyard, knowing full well he’d just collapse onto the ground if I let go of him.
But he’s stubborn, just like the rest of them.
I have to at least give him the choice.
But he’s not stubborn today. Heath shakes his head, frowning in concentration. I know he was bitten pretty bad on the leg, but he might’ve gotten slashed or bitten elsewhere in the flurry of attacks as well. All I know is I’m pretty sure there’s a gash on his head that’s leaking blood onto my arm.
The sight of him, the rush of adrenaline and fear—they contrast nicely against what’s turned out to be a lovely spring day. The sun shines, pleasantly warm, on the courtyard below. People are outside lounging on benches and enjoying the weather.
They do not, however, enjoy the sight of two bloody boys limping up the main path.
But that is the very least of my concerns.
“Get the nurse!” I scream at someone as soon as we’re within earshot, and he hops off his bench and runs off, others following. Someone rushes over to take up Heath’s other arm and another boy comes to take the arm I have, but Heath tightens his grip on me, refusing to let me go. I nod grimly and appreciatively at the boy but keep my hold.
I won’t let go of Heath until he’s ready.
I like to think he’d do the same for me, but to be honest … I’m no longer sure.
Nurse Weber appears at the main entranceway just as we get there. She gasps, pales, and then recovers, her lips pursing into a thin line. I see her turn and bark out instructions to the nearest student.
“I can leave you with the nurse,” I tell Heath in hushed tones, glancing between the nurse hurrying towards us and the boy holding him on his other side. “The Brotherhood’s image should still be intact.”
Despite how hurt Heath is, I can hear the bitterness in my own tone as we climb the steps.
“Alex,” Heath gasps, obviously still in pain. We’ve reached the top of the steps. The boy on his other side ducks out from under Heath’s arm, and to my surprise, Heath swings himself around to face me, grabbing my face in his hands. “You saved my life. Brotherhood be damned.”
And with that, he pulls me close and kisses me fiercely on the lips.
And just like that, I know how the last member of The Brotherhood tastes on my tongue.
My stomach flutters and clenches. He hasn’t given me enough time to adjust my grip on him, so one of my arms is still wrapped around him.
I pull him to me, too. Maybe he still doesn’t know I’m a girl, but I can at least enjoy this one moment.
Even if, even now, I know I’d be a fool to think it could last.
Nurse Weber’s hands grab at Heath’s shoulders and she wrenches him away from me. Heath protests and reaches for me, almost clawing at my face to keep me with him. Another professor has brought a gurney, and the nurse wastes no time pushing Heath down onto it.
She shoots a glance towards me, saying, “You must have lost a lot of blood. A lot of blood.”
Heath just keeps shaking his head and reaches towards me again, his eyes struggling to focus as he reaches towards me. “Alex …”
“Alex can’t come with you,” Weber says through tight lips, glancing at me once more. “You need to get to the infirmary as quickly as possible.”
“It was wolves,” I tell Weber quickly, and she nods grimly before pushing Heath away. My cheeks should be burning from the kiss—the very public kiss—but there are too many other emotions running through me at the moment for that.
I stumble sub-consciously a few steps inside the school until I spot Jasper and Beck standing frozen by the entrance, gaping as a bloody Heath is wheeled past them.
No sooner has he disappeared down the hall than their eyes snap back to me.
I look down at my hands, stained from Heath’s blood. It’s on my clothes, too. I wonder briefly if it’s in my hair. I glance back up and realize that, even apart from Jasper and Beck, there are people here. A lot of people.
Grown people. Adults. People who look like parents to the rich kids who attend this school. And all around us, what looks like the entire school is here, along with our own dean and Headmistress Robin.
What’s … what’s going on?
I don’t remember there being another event planned for today.
I put my hands quickly down by my sides and glance over myself again. I must look a wreck, blood and all. Do they think I attacked Heath? Do they think this is my fault? Well, it sort of is my fault, isn’t it?
But it seems that this isn’t the only reason everyone seems to be staring at me like some sort of foreign creature.
And I realize it the moment I lift my eyes and meet those of Dean Withers.
I see something there … something dark. Something complicated.
I know what’s coming next, but there’s no energy left in me now that the rush of adrenaline has faded for me to fight it.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” the dean says, walking up to me and placing a hand on my shoulder. His expression is strained. The smile stretching across his face looks forced. “Meet our first female student, Alexis Trevellian.”
It really is all over now.