CHAPTER 34
November 24. Morning. Ten years ago.
The school days passed as they always did. Gray, windy, and almost identical.
Rick had already grown accustomed to the local bustle, the endless conversations in the hallways, the smell of chalk and cafeteria food, but not to this damn cold. It seemed to get colder with every passing day.
After the most tedious lesson imaginable, he stepped into the hallway and instinctively shivered, adjusting the backpack on his shoulder.
Outwardly, everything was as usual. People hurried through the halls, locker doors slammed, someone laughed by the window.
But Rick himself felt completely different after yesterday.
He had barely slept that night.
The moment he closed his eyes, he remembered Aaron’s hands, his voice, his face far too close, and the moment when there had been almost no space left between their bodies. Just thinking about it made everything twist in the pit of his stomach.
At what point had he stopped understanding what he was thinking or what he was doing?
He felt hot even now.
Rick shoved his hands deeper into his pockets.
He wanted desperately to see Aaron. He wanted to ask where he had disappeared to after practice yesterday. He wanted to simply talk. And at the same time, he had absolutely no idea how he was supposed to look him in the eye now.
He opened his locker — more out of habit than because he was actually looking for something — and automatically reached for his camera. The metal body was cold against his fingers.
He was just about to hang it around his neck when someone's hand landed on his locker door and slammed it shut right in front of him.
Rick looked up questioningly.
A sturdy blond guy stood in front of him, with short, slightly messy hair, sharp cheekbones, and a heavy gaze.
"Got a problem, Wood?"
Green eyes lazily traveled over his face.
"I don't have a problem."
"Then what the hell are you bothering me for?"
Zack shrugged lazily.
"Just wanted to talk."
"Looks a lot like a conversation."
Wood smirked, leaning his shoulder against the neighboring locker.
"I'll admit, you put on a pretty good show yesterday afternoon."
Rick frowned.
"And?"
"And nothing. You were just kind of jumpy yesterday evening. Though after a game like that, you should've been in a great mood."
"Maybe because you kept getting in my way?"
"Not only because of that."
Rick said nothing. He adjusted the backpack on his shoulder and instinctively rested a hand on the strap.
Zack studied his face for several seconds, as though he had been waiting for precisely that silence.
"You look at him like that often?"
Rick froze.
"Who?"
"Don't play dumb, Parker."
"I don't know what you're talking about."
Wood gave a quiet laugh.
"For someone who doesn't understand anything, you nearly choked yesterday when Lake came running over to you. I thought you were never going to let go of him."
Rick looked at him from beneath his brows.
"What is it, Parker? Hard to hear?"
"You're talking complete bullshit," Rick muttered.
"Really?" Zack tilted his head slightly. "Then why are you getting so pissed off?"
Rick clenched his teeth harder.
Wood pushed away from the locker and stepped closer.
"You actually think he likes you?"
Something inside Rick slowly began to boil.
"Shut up."
Zack smirked, clearly pleased with his reaction.
"Girls and guys are always chasing after him. Wouldn't surprise me if he's making out with someone right now, too."
His fingers tightened around the backpack strap, but a faint smirk appeared on his lips.
"Jealous?"
Zack fell silent for a second.
"Me? Jealous?" He lazily raised an eyebrow. "That's funny. It's just that you seem to have gotten way too much into your own head. Like Lake is seriously into you."
Rick slowly exhaled through his nose. His jaw tightened even more.
Zack noticed and continued:
"Though even if he is into you, that doesn't mean anything. There's nothing special about you."
He stepped toward Rick, brazenly closing the distance.
"Guys like him don't get involved with guys like you." Zack paused briefly, then delivered the final blow. "At most, he'd jerk off and forget about you."
"You don't know a fucking thing. Not about me, and not about him."
Zack smirked again.
"When it turns out I was right, don't come crying to me afterward. I don't need whiners on my team."
He shrugged.
"By the way, how's your side?" he drawled, letting his gaze drift downward. "Because I feel like I didn't hit you hard enough."
Rick stepped forward sharply. A nasty smile appeared on his lips.
"Careful I don't hit you right back," he hissed.
Wood merely shook his head and laughed with satisfaction.
"Well, look at that. That's the real Wolverine spirit. Don't get yourself worked up, hero."
He put a hand on Rick's shoulder in an exaggeratedly friendly, almost mocking gesture.
"I am the captain, after all. I have the team to think about."
Rick jerked his shoulder, angrily shaking off his hand. For several seconds, he stared straight into his eyes, feeling a sticky irritation somewhere beneath his ribs.
His fists slowly clenched and relaxed.
Lucky he had managed to get himself under control.
A little more, and he really would have said or done something he'd regret later.
He turned and walked away.
He didn't need any more problems.
He just needed to cool off.
And eat something while he was at it.
The cafeteria greeted him with its usual noise and stuffiness. The air smelled of stewed cabbage and cheap coffee.
Laughter, the clatter of trays, the rustle of wrappers — it all blended into one continuous hum. Banners and decorations for the autumn ball had already been hung overhead.
Rick grabbed some kind of pasta that looked like macaroni with meat and a salad. He sat a little off to the side, his back to the window. He poked at his food with his fork, but his appetite never came.
Wood's words were still ringing in his head.
Rick instinctively looked up and quickly scanned the cafeteria. For a moment, he thought he caught a glimpse of gray-blue eyes somewhere in the crowd. He looked more closely — but he was mistaken.
Some familiar faces sat at the corner table.
Mark was listlessly picking at his food. Misty was animatedly telling John something, glancing at him from time to time. He pretended to be absorbed in his phone.
Rick noticed the bluish swelling across the bridge of his nose and gave the faintest smirk. It felt as though Halloween had been a hundred years ago. So much had happened since then.
Misty suddenly caught his eye. For a moment they simply looked at each other—her gaze direct, slightly lazy, almost challenging.
Rick looked away first, but a second later he looked back and met that same faint smile. Her lips gleamed from the lollipop, and the sweet, fruity smell of strawberry, nauseatingly familiar, seemed suddenly to be right beside him again.
Something inside him stirred unpleasantly. Embarrassment, irritation, and some strange excitement all tangled together.
Rick pretended to examine his camera, but almost immediately heard a chair scrape and instinctively looked up.
Misty was already walking toward him. Her heels clicked against the tile, and there was that same self-assured movement in her stride that always made Rick's blood pressure rise.
"Hey there. Why are you sitting all by yourself? Bored?" she drawled, tilting her head slightly.
"Hey," he replied. "Nothing much… I have a free period. Just waiting for the next one."
"Got it."
She smiled at the corner of her mouth, biting down on the lollipop.
"Does your side still hurt?"
Rick hesitated for a moment.
"I'm fine."
Misty leaned toward him slightly.
"I saw you play."
There was genuine admiration in her voice, but Rick only shrugged.
"I don't want to talk about it."
"Okay. Don't want to come sit with us?"
Misty rested a hand on the table and nodded toward their group.
Rick looked up. John was already staring intently in their direction.
Rick grimaced slightly.
That was the last thing he needed right now.
King abruptly pushed his chair back and clenched his fists, intending to walk over to them, but Mark immediately stood and grabbed him by the forearm.
He said something quickly. They exchanged glances, after which King pulled his arm free and reluctantly sat back down.
Rick turned his attention to Misty again.
She merely smirked, clearly pleased with the effect she'd had.
"I don't think so…" Rick lifted the corner of his mouth slightly. "I've had enough adventures for one day."
"Scared?"
Misty carefully sat down beside him.
"It's been a few weeks since then," she replied lazily, tracing a finger along the edge of the tray. "I think he's gotten over it."
Her fingers stopped.
"Let's talk about something more pleasant," she suggested.
Rick leaned back in his chair and folded his arms across his chest.
"Like what?"
"Are you going to the ball tonight?"
Before he could answer, her hand lightly touched his knee—clearly not by accident.
Rick froze.
Not long ago, he probably would have been embarrassed. Or tried to make a joke. Or at least felt that pleasant flutter of excitement her attention had always stirred in him. Now, he simply didn't know what to do with it.
His heart still beat faster. But for some reason, the reason felt completely different.
Rick looked directly into her eyes for several seconds, trying to understand exactly what she expected from him.
"Um… I hadn't thought about it," he admitted.
"You should," Misty said, narrowing her eyes slightly. "It'll be fun. I'm going too."
She paused briefly.
"We could hang out."
The last words came out almost in a whisper.
Misty fell silent and watched him expectantly, slowly licking the lollipop.
Rick said nothing for several seconds. Now he understood exactly what she meant.
"Well… okay," he finally breathed.
Misty smiled with satisfaction and leaned back in her chair, clicking the lollipop against her teeth.
Rick instinctively scanned the cafeteria. Aaron was still nowhere to be seen, and for some reason that made the unpleasant ache inside him even sharper.
And at that exact moment, two trays came crashing down beside them.
"Hey!" Steve said brightly, dropping into the seat across from them. "What's with all the mystery? Spill!"
"Yeah," Tom chimed in, biting into an apple with a crisp crunch. "We want to know what's going on, too."
The playful glint in Misty's eyes immediately disappeared.
Rick let out a barely perceptible breath of relief, without even understanding why.
"Where were you two going?" Misty asked irritably, rolling her eyes. "Rick and I were talking."
"Talking?" Tom raised an eyebrow, shifting his gaze from her to Rick. "And here I thought you were teasing John again. Look how puffed-up he is."
Rick instinctively glanced over.
John was sitting at his table, completely tense. Mark was saying something to him, but he didn't seem to be listening at all. He looked as though he were about to explode.
The corner of Rick's mouth twitched upward.
Misty shot Tom a look that would have made anyone with even a little sense shut up by now.
But Tom only smirked and winked at Rick.
"Not cool, using Rick as bait in your little games with John. Don't you think? He's one of us."
"Both of you, shut up," Misty hissed through her teeth.
"We're just warning him," Tom continued calmly, giving Rick a brief look. "Better be careful with Misty."
"Why?" Rick asked.
"Because she's beautiful," Steve said with a snort. "And she knows it. That's dangerous."
"Exactly," Tom nodded. "Besides, John is interested in her."
Misty rolled her eyes.
"Are you seriously discussing me like I'm not even here?"
"We're just looking out for Rick," Tom replied evenly.
"Male solidarity and all that," Steve added, winking at him.
Rick couldn't help smiling.
He looked at Misty. She really was beautiful. Rick could see that, but nothing more.
For some reason, that thought made him frown.
"Forget it, guys," he muttered lazily, returning his attention to his tray. "I can take care of myself."
"All right," Tom smirked. "But we're always around."
"Okay," Rick replied.
Suddenly Misty laughed. The whole situation seemed absurdly funny to her.
Tom and Steve couldn't help laughing too.
"By the way, I wanted to ask you guys…" Steve began lightly.
Behind them, a chair suddenly scraped loudly across the tile. Rick turned and saw John getting to his feet.
His stomach tightened unpleasantly.
Rick didn't wait for him to approach. He quickly hung the camera around his neck, grabbed his backpack, and stood.
"All right, guys. I should probably go."
"Rick?" Misty jerked to her feet after him. There was none of her earlier playfulness left in her voice. "I just…"
"It's okay," he interrupted gently, offering a small smile. "Everything's fine."
Before she could finish, Rick had already moved away from the table.
The familiar cafeteria noise rose behind him again — the clatter of utensils, voices, and laughter. He stepped into the hallway, shoved his hands into his pockets, and pulled up his hood. Cold air seeped through the gaps around the windows, cutting through his hoodie.
Rick continued down the hallway, staring at the floor.
What was that, anyway?He couldn't answer himself.
Misty. Her touch. Her voice. The fact that he'd just agreed to spend the evening with her.
He was supposed to feel different somehow. But he couldn't explain exactly how.
Everything in his head had become a complete mess.
The bell rang through the school, and crowds of teenagers began streaming into their classrooms.
"Hey, wait!"
Rick turned around.
Steve was already catching up with him down the hallway.
"Why did you leave so suddenly?" he asked, giving him a pat on the shoulder.
"Sorry," Rick said with an awkward smile. "I just didn't want to run into John again."
"I get it," Miller nodded. "He hasn't really bothered you since that whole thing. I heard his dad gave him hell over the party, too. Makes sense why he hasn't been showing his face much these past couple of weeks."
"Yeah," Rick muttered, lowering his gaze.
Steve added something else and laughed quietly. Rick, not really listening, nodded.
Miller kept talking, while Rick absentmindedly looked up and scanned the hallway.
Two people appeared around the corner, coming from the direction of the lockers.
The first person he noticed was Katie — the bright star-shaped clips in her blond hair, that familiar smile. She was saying something to the person beside her, glancing at him from time to time.
Then Rick's gaze shifted to the person walking beside her.
For a moment, he thought he was simply mistaken.
After everything that had happened yesterday, he'd been catching himself looking for him among the people around him far too often.
But no.
It really was Aaron.
Rick felt something inside him tighten unpleasantly.
Katie walked very close to him, lightly touching his arm. Aaron listened, occasionally answering something, and at one point leaned toward her to make out her words over the noise of the hallway.
Nothing unusual.
At least, from the outside.
But for some reason, Rick suddenly found it difficult to breathe.
Steve was still saying something beside him, but his voice had now faded completely into the background.
Rick instinctively lowered his gaze, but a few seconds later he looked in their direction again.
Katie laughed and took Aaron's hand. He said something quietly in response.
A faint blush appeared on his cheeks, one Rick could make out even from the other end of the hallway.
He looked a little embarrassed.
The ache in Rick's chest deepened.
Wood's words from that morning, which he'd been trying to push out of his mind all this time, suddenly came rushing back.
Wouldn't surprise me if he's making out with someone right now, too.His fingers curled tighter inside his pockets.
What a stupid thing to feel.
Yesterday, he hadn't been able to stop thinking about him all night. This morning, he'd let Wood get under his skin, and then he'd even agreed to spend the evening with Misty, despite not fully understanding why he'd done it.
And now all it took was seeing Aaron beside another girl for something inside him to hurt this badly.
Rick slowly exhaled and looked away.
He didn't want to meet Aaron's eyes.
Not right now.
But Katie had already noticed them. She said something to Aaron and, without waiting for an answer, pulled him along.
"Hey, guys!" she greeted them.
Rick turned toward her, but kept looking somewhere near the floor, doing everything he could not to accidentally meet Aaron's eyes.
Her bright voice cut through the silence inside Rick, and something in him gave an unpleasant little jolt.
Katie's eyes immediately fell on the camera strap around his neck.
"Whoa, is that your camera? Can I see the photos?" Her eyes lit up, and her genuine smile grew even
wider.
Her carefree enthusiasm made Rick feel almost sick for a second.
"Hey… yeah, of course," he answered quietly.
Rick carefully took off the camera.
"I want to see them too," Steve added, leaning forward.
Aaron stepped closer as well. His sneakers stopped just one step away from Rick's Vans. He was suddenly right there — almost brushing Rick's shoulder.
Rick felt his presence with his whole body, as though the air between them had suddenly become too tight.
His heart skipped a beat and seemed to lodge somewhere in his throat.
He swallowed, turned on the camera, opened the gallery, and handed it to Katie. Her slender fingers rested carefully on the body, and the screen came alive beneath her touch.
In the first photograph, thick fog greedily nipped at the treetops.
In the next, a small sleepy squirrel hid among the branches, wrapped in its fluffy coat.
Then came a street after the rain, glowing with wild colors, full of reflections, glints, and the wet shine of headlights.
Then — a grandmother handing an apple to her granddaughter. Warmth softened her face, while patience and love showed in every wrinkle.
In another photograph, a baker with flour-covered hands gently arranged a loaf of bread, still steaming with heat, in the display window.
A man stood beneath the rain with his head tilted back, letting the cold drops fall across his face.
Every photograph breathed with life. Each one had its own story.
"Wow… this is insanely beautiful," Katie breathed, unable to tear her eyes away from the screen.
"Yeah… damn," Steve agreed. "I didn't even know photographs could feel this alive."
