Betty
I couldn't breathe properly. Marcus's fingers had just brushed my hair back, and I was drowning in the intensity of his gaze. My heart hammered against my ribs as he stared at me like he was seeing me for the first time.
The detention room door burst open.
"Yo, Marcus! Coach is looking for—" Vel stopped mid-sentence, taking in the scene. Marcus kneeling beside my desk, me with tear-stained cheeks and trembling hands.
A slow, cruel smile spread across Vel's face.
"Well, well, well. What do we have here?" He leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms. "Marcus comforting the school freak. This is rich."
I felt my face burn with fresh humiliation. Of course someone had to witness this moment of weakness.
"Get out, Vel," Marcus said, his voice deadly quiet.
But Vel was enjoying himself too much to stop. "Seriously, dude? This is what you're doing instead of practice? Playing therapist to Brace Face?"
Something snapped in Marcus. He shot to his feet and before I could blink, his fist connected with Vel's jaw with a sickening crack.
Vel stumbled backward, touching his lip where blood was already starting to flow.
"What the hell, dude?" Vel spat, wiping the blood with the back of his hand.
"I said get out," Marcus growled.
"What about practice?"
"It's cancelled today."
Vel's eyes darted between Marcus and me, understanding dawning on his face. "Because of Brace Face?!" He laughed, but there was no humor in it. "Man, you've really lost it."
"GET OUT!" Marcus roared.
Vel raised his hands in mock surrender and backed toward the door. "Fine. But you're gonna regret this, Marcus. Coach isn't gonna be happy." He shot me one last disgusted look before disappearing down the hallway.
The silence that followed felt deafening. My breathing was coming in short, panicked gasps. The confrontation, the violence, Marcus defending me—it was too much. My chest felt tight, like I couldn't get enough air.
Marcus was back at my side instantly.
"Betty, hey. Look at me." His voice was gentle again, completely different from the rage I'd just witnessed. "You're hyperventilating."
I tried to speak but only managed a strangled sob. Everything felt like it was spinning.
"Close your eyes," Marcus said softly. "Count to ten with me, okay? We're gonna do it backwards."
I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to focus on his voice instead of the panic clawing at my chest.
"Ten," Marcus said, and I could feel him moving closer.
"Ten," I whispered, my voice shaky.
"Nine."
"Nine." My breathing started to slow slightly.
"Eight."
"Eight." I could smell his cologne now, warm and intoxicating.
"Seven."
"Seven." His voice was so close, so soothing.
"Six."
"Six." I felt safer somehow, like nothing could hurt me as long as Marcus was here.
"Five."
"Five." My heartbeat was starting to return to normal, but for entirely different reasons now.
"Four."
"Four." I could feel the warmth radiating from his body.
"Three."
"Three." His breath was warm against my face.
"Two."
"Two." I was almost afraid to open my eyes, afraid of what I might see—or what I might feel.
"One."
My eyes fluttered open, and Marcus was right there. So close that I could see every detail of his face, the slight stubble along his jaw, the dark fringe of his eyelashes, the way his lips were slightly parted.
We stayed frozen like that, breathing the same air, our faces inches apart. I could feel the pull between us, magnetic and dangerous. Marcus's eyes dropped to my lips, then back to my eyes.
He was going to kiss me. I could see it in the way he looked at me, could feel it in the electric tension crackling between us.
But all I could think about was Stacey in my room, Marcus kissing her, choosing her over me. The humiliation in the classroom. The way everyone had laughed.
Could I trust him? Could I trust this moment?
Just as Marcus started to lean in, I panicked.
I bolted from my chair, knocking it over in my haste to get away. Marcus reached for me, but I was already backing toward the door.
"Betty, wait—"
"I can't," I gasped, shaking my head. "I can't do this."
"Betty, please. Just listen to me—"
But I was already running, fleeing the detention room like my life depended on it. Behind me, I heard Marcus call my name, but I didn't stop.
I ran until I reached the girls' bathroom at the end of the hall, slamming the door behind me and leaning against it. My heart was pounding again, but this time it wasn't from panic.
It was from the memory of how close we'd been. How much I'd wanted him to kiss me, even knowing it might destroy me completely.
The taste of almost was worse than never at all.