Page 9 of Inked Heart
I rub the back of my neck.For a second I consider brushing it off.Pretending everything’s fine.But something about the quiet honesty in Laine’s expression makes the words slip out before I can stop them.
“Quinn was there.”
Laine’s eyebrows lift slightly.“With Emette?”
“Yeah.”
He nods slowly like that confirms something he already suspected.“And?”
“And nothing.”
“Damien.”
I sigh.“He was being an asshole.”
Laine huffs a quiet laugh.“Breaking news.”
“I mean it,” I say, irritation creeping into my voice.“He was criticizing her the whole time.Her hair.Her friends.The shop.”
Laine’s expression darkens slightly.“He say something about us?”
“Not directly.”
“But the implication was there.”
Silence settles between us for a moment before Laine pushes away from the doorframe and walks further into the room.
“You remember sophomore year?”he asks suddenly.
My stomach tightens.Of course I do.
“Which part?”I say dryly.
“The locker room.”
Ah.That part.My jaw clenches.Funny how memories work.Some moments fade into nothing while others stay sharp as broken glass no matter how many years pass.
Sophomore year, Franklinton High.I was sixteen and awkward.The kind of kid teachers loved and everyone else ignored.Or worse.
My brain drags me back there whether I want it to or not.The smell of sweat and cheap deodorant in the locker room.Metal lockers slamming shut.Laughter echoing off tile walls.
I remember kneeling on the floor trying to gather the books that had just been knocked from my hands.My algebra textbook.A notebook.A pencil rolling away across the tile.
And above me ...laughter.
“Watch where you’re going, Grey.”Emette Black.Quarterback and golden boy.King of the damn school.
I didn’t even look up.I just kept picking up my books.That was the trick back then.Don’t react.Don’t engage.Maybe they’ll get bored.
Except Emette never got bored.
A sneaker slammed down on my notebook, pinning it to the floor.“Hey,” he said.
I froze.Slowly ...reluctantly ...I lifted my gaze.He stood there with three of his teammates behind him.All of them smiling.The kind of smiles that promised nothing good.
“Say excuse me,” he said.
My throat felt tight.“I didn’t bump into you.”
