Chapter 5 Maddison
MADDISON
The alarm system starts to malfunction halfway through class.
The most annoying noise ever floods the air.
It reminds me of the noise a caffeine-juiced-up banshee would make, and I suspect the person who picked out the system was an older man who was hard of hearing since no one with sound eardrums would choose to endure this madness.
The professor instructs everyone to make their way out of the emergency exit, located by the row Noah and I are sitting in. So, we collect our things, and I head out first, making my way up the final step and pushing out the door.
Sunlight and a cool breeze spills across me as I start shuffling down the stairs, waddling like a penguin thanks to my aching muscles.
“Why are you walking like that?” Noah mumbles as the stairway rattles with my weight.
“River made me do hill climbs today,” I state as I trail my fingers down the railing.
“Right. He’s training you. I heard about that,” he mumbles grumpily.
When I cast a glance over my shoulder, he has a cranky look on his face, like he’s pissed off at everything, including the fact that he has to breathe.
“Do you ever smile?” I wonder as I jump off the final step and onto the asphalt.
Instead of answering, he rushes by me, his shoulder brushing against mine.
“Well, bye then!” I call out. “And you’re welcome for the numbers.”
He completely disregards me, quickening his pace and making a beeline for the trail that weaves through the trees. On the other side of those, frat and sorority houses line a narrow road. I wonder if he’s heading to one of those. Noah doesn’t seem like he’d belong in a frat, but who the hell knows?
Sighing heavily, I make my way toward the center of the asphalt, then turn around, watching as students and professors pour out of the buildings. The alarm is still screeching like a dumbass banshee that doesn’t realize she’s doing the wrong job. No one’s dying here, bitch, so shut up.
Speaking of bitches, a group of people standing about a handful of feet away are staring at me.
Some are smirking, and others are glaring at me.
One guy in particular, who has dark red hair, winks at me and blows a kiss.
I’m unsure if this is because I’m a north-sider, but they’re lucky I don’t want to get kicked out of school.
If someone did that to be back home, I’d throw down.
But I need to be Proper Maddy or else get expelled.
“Why do you look like you’re about to bitch-smack a panda bear?” Finn moves up beside me, all blond hair and glittering bright blue eyes.
“That bitch is staring at me.” I flip the redhead my middle finger because it’s about all I can do.
Redhead’s smile fades, and he starts to step toward me when he notices Finn.
“Did you just call that guy a bitch?” Finn questions with an arch of his brow.
“Yeah, so?” I quip. “Guys can be bitches, too. I bet you are sometimes.” I toss him a smirk.
“You’re so feisty,” he retorts, mirroring my smirk. “Seriously, though, you want me to go talk to that guy? Get him to stop?”
“No. That’d be weird.” Giving the guy a dirty look, I turn my back on him and ignore the problem.
Finn matches my move. We’re facing the sun now, and he squints against the glaring light as he glances at me.
“So, what has my bestie been up to these last couple of days?” he wonders while shielding his eyes from the sunlight with his hand.
“I haven’t seen you since I brought you back to school the other day? Got into any more car chases?”
“Disappeared into any library walls?” I retort, eliciting a faint grin from him.
“Again with the feistiness.” He faces me, his gaze straying behind us then to me. “I think this might take a bit. You want to go sit out front and order some food?”
“I wouldn’t mind going and sitting down.” I reach down to massage my thigh. “My legs are killing me.”
His gaze drops to where I’m rubbing. “Why? What’s up?”
“Your brother is what’s up.” I grimace. “He kicked my ass today with hill climbs.”
“Ah, hill climbs. I remember those days.”
“You were on cross country?”
“Yep, freshman year. Totally hated it, hence the reason I was only on it for a year.”
“Then you switched to football?” I wonder as we wander across the rest of the asphalt and toward the grass.
He nods, sweeping his fingers through his blond locks. I swear to God, a few women passing by swoon at the move.
“I like football better,” he admits as he slows to stop underneath the shelter of a massive willow tree.
Branches canopy above and block out the sunlight, offering a bit of a wall against the cool breeze.
I drop my bag onto the grass then take a seat beside it. “How come you like it? I’m just curious.”
He sits down in front of me, stretches his legs out, then rests back on his hands. “I like that it’s a team effort. I like that it makes sense to me. I like that I’m good at it.”
I stretch one of my legs to the side, wincing from the pain. “I feel that way about running.”
He eyes me as I slant to the side. “What got you into running?”
“Well, I’ve been doing it for most of my life.
You go to the store late at night? You gotta be able to run in case someone is trying to take or hurt you.
You steal something to survive? Again, you gotta be able to run.
Your father screws some dude over? Again, with the skill of running.
” I bite down on my tongue at the horrified look on his face.
What the hell am I doing? Overshare much, Mads?
His wide-eyed gaze has me wishing I could time travel to thirty seconds ago and vagina-punch myself before I uttered the words aloud.
“That’s how it is on northside?”
“Maybe not for everyone, but the high majority, yes.” I move to stretch my other leg. “Some people are just poor and don’t get into corruption to survive. But a lot of them do.”
He chews on his bottom lip. “Did you? I mean, is that why you were in jail?”
“No, that happened because I was trying to defend myself from these guys who jumped me, and when the cops busted us, I got the blame.” As he continues to gape at me, I add, “It’s just how things work there.
Cops arrest whoever they want without getting the facts.
And I get it—things can get chaotic with how much crime there is.
But I’m totally over getting in trouble over dumb shit I’m not even trying to be involved in. ”
He intently studies me. “You must be a strong person. I assumed that about you when I first saw you. You have that take-no-shit-from-anyone attitude. But listening to you talk about your life”—he wavers—“I bet you know how to kick ass.”
“I do, for the most part.”
He smiles, and it’s as warm as the sunlight attempting to erase the coolness of the breeze. “I can show you a way to stretch that’ll help with the pain. Just give me one second.”
“Okay.” I continue to stretch out my legs while he takes out his phone, which I assume is to order his food.
As I wait, I get this strange vibe that I’m being watched.
When I peer around, I don’t spot anyone specifically gawking at me.
That doesn’t mean anyone wasn’t, though.
It’s such a common thing these days, but that mostly happens when I’m with River.
But maybe it’s transferring to Finn. He is River’s twin, after all.
“All right,” Finn announces, dropping his phone and rubbing his hands together. “Let me see one of your legs.”
“You told me you would show me a good stretch, so why do you need my leg?” I attempt to decipher if he’s being serious. “Just do a demonstration.”
“I will, but first, I’ll massage your muscles.”
I blink. “What? Why?”
He cocks a brow. “You’re asking me why I think massaging your muscles will help with your pain?”
“That’s a valid point. But it’s weird.”
“Only if you make it.”
He’s probably right.
“Oh, fine.” I scoot closer to him.
He stretches out his legs so I can move even closer then pats his thigh. “Put your leg right here.”
I still feel so odd as I position my leg where he instructed. We’re sitting face-to-face, with me positioned between his legs, one of my legs on top of his thigh, so we’re thigh-to-thigh. And I have the other stretched out beside his hip.
He massages my calf muscles for a second. “Does this part of your leg hurt worse or less than your thighs?”
“Worse, for sure.” I’m stiff as hell, mostly because I’m out of my comfort zone.
Finn quietly sighs. “Maddy, you have to relax, or this won’t help.”
“Sorry,” I mumble, resting back on my hands. “I’m not used to anyone touching me.”
His gaze lifts to mine. “For reals?”
I shrug. “It’s not like my northside high school had amenities like massages.” Which they do here. I just haven’t used them yet.
His fingers travel toward my knee. “Hasn’t anyone ever given you a massage?”
I shake my head as the wind blows strands of my hair into my face. “Nope. I’ve tried to give them to myself, but this feels way better.”
“So, you never had a boyfriend who offered to give you one?” He says it causally enough that I internally roll my eyes.
I can read the underlying meaning of his question all over his face. “No, and to alleviate your curiosity about my love life, I currently don’t have a boyfriend, nor have I ever.”
He blinks, giving me this dumb sort of look as his fingers freeze. “What?”
“What do you mean, what?” I ask, amused by how surprised he is.
His fingers start moving again. “I mean, how in the hell have you never had a boyfriend?”
“Have you ever had a girlfriend?”
“Well … no, but—”
“Then why is it so impossible for me to have never dated anyone?” I cut him off.
“Fair point.” His fingers travel to the back of my leg. “I hook up, though.”
“Maybe I do, too.” I will my face to remain straight but must not meet the mark.
“Do you?” he inquires, eyeing me.
I could lie, but what the heck do I care?
“You know what? I don’t,” I admit with no shame. “I’ve never had a boyfriend. Never hooked up. Never had sex.”
I bust up laughing as his eyes nearly bulge out of his head.