Last week, I lost it. Watching Damien talk to Tasha had flipped a switch in me. He knew exactly what he was doing, and I wasn't about to let him hurt her. Tasha—Pinky—was mine. Not in the romantic sense, but as my friend. And I'd protect her no matter what.
I sat on the bench in the locker room next to Kyle, ruffling my sweaty hair as my chest heaved.
"Damn, man, you went off on Damien today," Kyle laughed, shaking his head.
"Just making him better," I joked, leaning down to grab my shoes.
"Uh-huh." Kyle's tone was loaded with something unsaid.
I narrowed my eyes. "What?"
"Nothing," he replied, but his expression betrayed him.
I sighed, finishing up and heading out of the locker room. Just as I stepped outside, I spotted Damien with his group of friends near the parking lot. "I'll catch you tomorrow," I told Kyle over my shoulder before jogging ahead to catch up with Damien.
His friends dispersed, leaving him alone by his car. He turned, noticing me, and smirked. "What, Emmett? Didn't get enough of me at practice?"
"This isn't about football," I said, ignoring his sarcasm.
"Oh, so it's about T," Damien said with a sly grin.
"Don't call her that," I snapped. "You don't get to call her that. And you don't get to be around her, either. Stay away from her."
Damien tilted his head back and laughed dryly. "Why? Are you banging her or something?"
I grabbed the front of his shirt, yanking him closer. "Shut the fuck up," I growled.
He pushed me off, creating space between us. "Seriously, why do you care so much? If you're not banging her, what's it to you?" Damien asked, smoothing out his jacket.
"I'm her friend, and I'm not letting you hurt her. Stay. The fuck. Away. From Tasha," I repeated, my voice low and firm.
Damien smirked, holding his hands up in mock surrender. "Fine, Captain. I'll back off."
I watched him walk to his car, my fists clenched tightly. As soon as he drove off, I groaned, running a hand through my hair. "Fuck," I muttered under my breath.
The next day at lunch, I noticed Damien sitting far away from Tasha, which filled me with relief. But Kyle was acting weird—quiet and distracted, not even bothering to tease Milton. Something was definitely up.
Later that day, I invited him over to my house. When he walked in, he was already complaining.
"Your sister tried to murder me," Kyle announced, slamming the door behind him.
I laughed, leaning back on my bed. "She thinks you're annoying. She's not wrong."
"Hilarious," Kyle muttered, flopping into my desk chair.
"What's wrong with you?" I asked, noticing the tension in his shoulders.
"Nothing," he said quickly. Too quickly.
I gave him a look, and he finally sighed, throwing his hands up. "Fine. I need your help. I've been putting something off because I wasn't sure...but now, I feel like we've got chemistry."
"Who?" I asked, genuinely curious.
Kyle grinned, rubbing the back of his neck. "Milton."
"Milton?" I repeated, eyebrows shooting up.
"Yeah, grouchy, always-hostile Milton," Kyle said, laughing at my shocked expression.
"Wow. That explains that goofy look you always have around him."
Kyle frowned. "Goofy look?"
"You know, the heart eyes and blush," I teased.
"Shut up. I don't look like that," he said, though his face was a little red. "But I do like him. I just...don't know how to tell him."
"So, you're asking him out?" I smirked.
Kyle leaned forward, grinning mischievously. "Not just that. I've got a plan. That's why I need your help."
Whenever Kyle had a plan, things got chaotic. The last time, his idea ended with my car totaled. I sighed but nodded. "Alright, what's the plan?"
The Next Day
I hid behind the lockers, watching as Tasha and Milton walked toward us. When they got close, Kyle's cue came, and our friends jumped out with banners. Kyle stepped forward, flowers in hand, while I stood behind him for support.
Tasha beamed, clearly enjoying the moment, but Milton looked stunned, his eyes wide.
"I like you, Milton," Kyle said confidently, stepping closer.
"Really?" Milton crossed his arms, skepticism written all over his face.
Kyle nodded. "I do. I was hoping you'd go to prom with me." He pulled the flowers from behind his back, holding them out.
The hallway fell silent, all eyes on them. I'd never seen Kyle look so vulnerable. It couldn't be me.
Milton hesitated, then grabbed the flowers, sniffing them softly. "Sure," he whispered, a faint smile appearing.
Kyle grinned from ear to ear. He scooped Milton up, twirling him in the air like they were in a rom-com.
"Put me down!" Milton shouted, smacking Kyle's shoulder.
Kyle laughed, gently setting him down. Milton grabbed Tasha's hand and hurried off toward the library. But before they disappeared, Tasha turned back, mouthing, "See you later."
Kyle stood beside me, still grinning like an idiot. "He said yes, man!"
I nodded, smiling despite myself.
"So...should we ride together? Since I've got my date and you've got Giana?" Kyle asked, his happiness radiating off him.
"Yeah," I said, though my smile faltered at the mention of Giana.
"We're gonna have the best night ever," Kyle said, practically bouncing.
"Yeah," I whispered, following him. But a pit formed in my stomach. Giana wasn't who I wanted to go with—not anymore.