14. Hadley #2
Thankfully, a man standing on a small portable stage, calls everyone’s attention through a screeching mic that has everyone wincing.
He explains the route we’re taking, reminding us to look for the giant Knight symbols—Camden’s emblem.
Nolan had neglected to mention the myriad of ridiculous and embarrassing things we have to do at each stop, including howling, crab walking, and singing Camden’s fight song.
He assures us each task will be clearly marked, but my apprehension melts away and I miss part of the speech because Janelle appears, stopping at Nolan’s other side. Jealousy burns in my veins.
“How are we going to run after eating twelve cookies?” Hannah asks as the announcer reminds everyone; they must eat all dozen before continuing the race.
I shake my head, trying to ignore the way Janelle’s leaning closer to Nolan, laughing as she whispers something to him. The moment she steps back, a guy pretends to scare her by touching her back, and once again she screams and clings to Nolan.
It’s painful to watch the guys fawn over her reaction like she’s cute and sexy rather than an attention seeker who’s being so ridiculously over the top.
I turn back to the stage as someone grabs and shakes me. I look over my shoulder, meeting the expected eyes of four players waiting for me to have a similar reaction to the one Janelle and the other cheerleaders have given. They look bored and sorely disappointed when I refuse to even blink.
“Touch her again and you’re going to run bleachers all day Monday,” Nolan warns the guy who tried scaring me.
His teammate raises both hands and takes several steps back into the throngs of their team.
I don’t know how I feel about Nolan’s warning.
I’m inclined to tell Nolan I didn’t need him to speak on my behalf, but another part of me is reveling in the fact he did.
Not only because I feel too many are bystanders to assholes, but because he got a ragey look in his eye, one that promised there’d be a higher price to pay than just running bleachers that has me hyper-aware of him again.
“I’ll be right back,” Nolan says, catching Hudson’s attention as he moves.
“How do this many people run together without causing a bottleneck?” I ask.
“We won’t all run together,” Ethan answers, turning to look at me from where he’s standing beside Hannah, one arm tossed loosely around her shoulders. “They’ll start asking people to line up by how fast they run. Those enrolled in athletics are asked to go first.”
“Palmer will probably win the event. Nolan stands a chance, too,” Ethan continues. “They’re trying to beat the soccer team.”
I recall Nolan telling me about the soccer player in the room next to his, and how he can’t get revenge in the way he wants to.
“Where’s the soccer team?” I ask.
Ethan pops up on his toes. He’s not short, but the crowd has become so dense it’s difficult to see. He points. “That guy with the mohawk is their captain.”
“What are you thinking?” Hannah asks, her look speculative and filled with doubt.
“Can Palmer or Nolan really win? I mean, do they stand a chance?”
Ethan shrugs. “Probably. They’re fucking fast, but with this many people, it will be hard to find a clear route. They can’t exactly push people over, if you know what I mean.”
“The basketball team is here, too, and they’re gunning for the win, as well,” Sam says.
“You have that evil scientist look in your eye,” Nolan says, successfully startling me for the first time after half a dozen attempts from his team. His lips graze the shell of my ear and the scent of bergamot coils around me.
“Funny because you had a ragey look a few minutes ago.”
He doesn’t deny it.
“Is the guy from the soccer team who has the room next to yours here?”
Nolan quirks his brow. “Why?”
“If I were to fall and get hurt and slow down the soccer team, would you and Palmer be able to win?”
His gaze softens as he smiles, making it nearly impossible for me to recall the scowl from earlier, which is nearly regrettable because Nolan’s scowl had me dizzy with desire.
“Forget about the soccer team.”
“But you can beat them.”
Those eyes that tease at being blue and green settle on me, warm and so intentional it reminds me of the way he’d looked at me at the party before he came over and kissed me like I was all he saw.
“I wouldn’t want you to try and slow them down.
I wouldn’t want them to have a single damn excuse when we beat them.
But Palmer’s got this. I’m running with you.
We’re here to help you prepare for your speech on Monday. ”
I shake my head. “But you have a chance to beat him.”
He shrugs. “It’s not that big of a deal.”
“I’m going to run with Hannah. Beat them and get a small dose of revenge.”
Indecision wars in his gaze.
I nod. “Go beat them. I’ll meet you at Camden’s feet.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’ll be mad at you if you don’t win.”
He chuckles.
Someone calls Nolan’s name which has his attention turning to the team. Something passes between them that has Nolan lifting a finger to indicate he’ll be right there. He takes an inhaler out of his pocket and takes a quick pull. “You know the route?”
I nod.
His gaze tracks over my face. “And they told you that you have to rub Camden’s toe to call time, right?”
I nod again.
He nods in return. “Let me see your phone.”
I don’t even bother asking why, relinquishing it to him while trying to recognize this light feeling in my chest that makes breathing easier and harder at the same time.
“I’m putting some of the guys’ numbers in your phone in case you get separated or anything happens.
Pops is going to stay near the back to make sure everyone’s good.
Callum will be pacing the freshmen to make sure they don’t do anything stupid.
” His attention jogs between my phone and his as he continues entering more numbers.
“I’m sending them your number, too.” He straightens, looking at Ethan. “Are you competing?”
Ethan shakes his head. “I appreciate you thinking I could catch you or Palmer.”
Nolan offers a fraction of a smile. “Make sure you keep an eye on them. People do most of the shoving at the beginning.”
Ethan nods. “Colin, Sam, and I will be a wall,” he assures him.
Nolan nods, his gaze skirting to me again as the announcer calls for the athletes to line up.
“Go,” I tell him. “Beat him.”