Chapter 3 #2
I find Colten at his locker, his shirt already off, showing off his lean, wiry frame. It’s a deceiving build, the kind that doesn’t look particularly intimidating until it’s holding you down.
His shoulders are still flushed from practice, but the glow is definitely gone.
“Why’d you leave?” I ask impatiently.
Colten keeps digging through his locker like I didn’t speak.
“Hey.”
Nothing.
“Colten.”
Still nothing. My right eye twitches.
He grabs a towel and starts wiping sweat off the back of his neck, clearly set on ignoring me.
This means he’s doing the thing where he decides he’s not talking about something. I’m sure rocket science is easier than figuring out how to make him talk when he gets like this.
Most people would keep pushing, but I’ve known Colten for three years. Not only is it a frustrating and useless endeavor to force him to talk when he doesn’t want to, but I also know it’s not about me. He just needs time.
I sigh, but leave him be.
He’ll talk when, and if, he wants, but not a second before.
I peel off my grass-stained shirt and toss it in my locker. Honestly, I don’t really feel like practicing anymore anyway, not if Colten isn’t out there. It just isn’t as fun without him these days.
But as I change, my brain keeps circling back to the glow.
What caused it? Something must have set it off. It can’t just be random.
First of all, that would be deeply uncool if he can’t control it. Second of all, Colten definitely knows something. He figured something out on the field, even if he won’t tell me for whatever lame reason.
The first time it happened was in the locker rooms, so it’s not the sun or the grass or getting his clothes dirty.
But I was there both times, which makes me suspicious.
We were both in the bathroom when Elias did the spell, after all. Maybe I’m part of it somehow?
I lean back against my locker, thinking about the second flashlight impersonation. We were wrestling, having fun, just normal everyday stuff.
Is it having fun? The first time it happened, we were joking around with the guys. And Colten seemed like he was having fun when we were wrestling.
How could he not? He completely bested me.
He had my arm pinned behind my back, his leg hooked around mine, all while sitting on my waist like he’d just won the Olympic gold medal. Somehow, despite being nearly a foot shorter than me, Colten always destroyed me when it came to wrestling.
It's probably all in his arms.
During our physical therapy sessions, it’s hard not to notice how his biceps flex when he helps me stretch. They’re ridiculously huge. I've spent an embarrassing amount of time resisting the urge to poke one, even though my biceps are pretty big, too.
Anyways, while we were wrestling and he had me on the ground, he was grinning like he does when he’s having fun and forgets to be cool about it. It makes him look younger, even though he's barely twenty to begin with.
Honestly, I actually kind of like it when he wins. Not that I would ever tell him that.
There’s something about being bested by him that makes my stomach do this weird swooping thing. It’s probably adrenaline, since I always want to tackle him back, though sometimes, I kind of want to see how much further he can push me into the dirt.
He easily could’ve done that today. With his legs wrapped around me, his strong hands holding my arms down, and his hair falling out of his ponytail from where his face was right above mine—
“Patrick.” Colten is staring at me, stiff and awkward.
I blink, realizing I zoned out for a moment. “What’s up?”
“You’re…glowing.”
I look down, and—
“Oh!” My hands are glowing! It’s not super bright, but it’s impossible to ignore now that I’m looking at it. I turn my hands over, fascinated. I can’t feel it at all. There’s no tingling or heat, just glowing like a vaguely useful flashlight.
“That’s so cool,” I say, though it starts fading almost immediately, my skin already looking completely normal and boring again. Still, super cool! I have super powers!
“Awesome!” I say, grinning brightly at Colten. “So we both get magic flashlight powers.”
Colten is watching me very carefully, not nearly as excited as I am. “What were you thinking about?”
“Oh.” Right. I was thinking about…Colten.
But instead of saying that, I give him an easy grin and say, “Jessica. You know, the one from the presentation? I was hoping she felt better.”
It’s a lie. I know this is something I probably shouldn’t lie about, but for some reason, I don’t really want to tell him the truth.
Colten goes very still, his face carefully blank. “You were thinking about Jessica,” he repeats.
From years of living beside him, I can tell he’s angry. It’s simmering just under the surface, his shoulders tense and rigid with it. Not just that, but I can tell he’s more angry at himself for being angry.
It’s odd, and I feel weirdly guilty. Should I just tell him the truth?
But before I can say anything else, he slams his locker shut.
“Do you have Elias’ number?” he asks, as he shoves his feet into his tennis shoes without bothering to tie them.
“Uhh, no?” I answer, blinking. “You aren’t planning to kill him, are you?”
I mean it as a joke. Mostly.
Colten’s still wearing his grass-stained shorts. Only his shirt and shoes are clean. He hates wearing his bright yellow soccer shorts off the field.
“I’ll be home later,” he says, grabbing his bag and heading for the door. Notably, he says nothing about Elias’ chances of survival.
“Colten—”
The door swings shut behind him, and I stare at it for a second.
Then I sigh and lean back against the locker. Elias has magic on his side; I’m sure he’ll survive. Probably.
So yeah, maybe that didn’t go great, but whatever. Colten just needs some space, and then I’ll make a joke, and he’ll laugh, and we’ll play soccer together again. It’s fine.
Besides, I have super powers!
The locker room is completely quiet now, the only sound the occasional muffled shout from outside. Which means I finally have a moment to process the fact that I'm apparently also a human flashlight.
I shake out my hands experimentally. No glowing, shining, or even a hint of any other weirdness.
Well, some sort of power, maybe. Is it radiation? Did that Greek guy give us radiation poisoning?
I let out a heavier sigh. Beyond weird and mostly useless super powers, I have my evaluation in less than a week, as Colten has been nagging me about.
Maybe that’s why he’s upset, or at least part of it. Here I am, getting all excited about potential radiation poisoning when the upcoming evaluation will lock in my spot for next season, my last season.
I already lost my sophomore year to an injury; I honestly can’t afford to get distracted now. If I end up in a crappy position, no scout will notice me.
Not to mention, I’m only here because of my scholarship. What if they decide not to fund my senior year? They were already generous enough to fund junior year after the injury. There’s no way my parents can afford my tuition.
As much as I’ve been dragging my feet on practicing… Colten’s right, I need to focus, to lock in.
Rolling my shoulders back, I decide to push aside Colten’s weirdness and all the magical stuff for a bit.
It’s time to focus on my evaluations. It’s my last shot. I’ve spent my entire life working for this moment, supported by so many people who are expecting my success.
If I get distracted now…
What will I have left?