Chapter 5 Confronted

The old gym is a cold box of shadows. I sit on the hard wooden floor. The wood is cold against my legs. I wait. I listen to the wind hit the high windows. Thump. Thump. It sounds like a heartbeat. My medical bag is next to me. The metal zipper glitters in the dim light. I look at the heavy back door. I do not think he will come.

Why would the King come to see a thief?

Ten minutes pass. I count the heartbeats in my neck. Twenty minutes pass. The air gets colder. I pull my knees to my chest. I think about going home. I think about my brother, Leo. He is at the garage right now. He is covered in oil. He is tired. I am doing this for him. I am doing this for our future.

Finally, the back door opens. Creeeeeak.

A long shadow falls across the floor. Jaxson Thorne walks in. He does not look like the Golden Boy now. He does not have his perfect smile. He looks angry. He walks fast. His heavy boots make a loud clack, clack, clack on the wood. He stops three feet away from me. He does not sit down. He stands tall. He looks down at me.

"Why did you do it?" he asks. His voice is like a sharp piece of ice.

I stand up slowly. My legs feel stiff. I am much shorter than him. I have to tilt my head back to see his eyes. "I didn't steal anything, Jaxson."

"Then how did you have the charm?" He steps closer. He is very close now. I can smell his jacket. It smells like the cold wind and expensive soap. "Chloe said it was in her locker. She said the lock was broken. And then I see it in your hand. Right there in the hall."

"She lied," I say. My voice is small. It sounds weak in the big room.

"Why would she lie?" Jaxson asks. He shakes his head. He looks disappointed. "She was crying, Maya. She was hurt. I felt bad for her. I sat at your table today. I protected you. I told Miller you were my friend. And then you steal from my... From her?"

He stops. He does not say 'my girlfriend.' He just says 'her.'

I want to tell him the truth. I want to yell it. I want to say: She was here! She was in the balcony! She was watching us! But I remember my scholarship. I remember the principal. If I tell Jaxson, he will get loud. He will get angry. Someone will hear us. If the secret gets out, he is finished. If he is finished, I am alone. Chloe will destroy me.

"I found it on the floor," I say. It is a half-lie. My heart feels heavy.

"Where?" his voice is a growl.

"In the hallway. Near the gym."

Jaxson laughs. It is a mean sound. It has no joy in it. "You are a bad liar, Vance. You are a very bad liar. Your eyes move when you lie. Did you know that?"

He turns around. He starts to walk away. He is going to leave. If he walks out that door, the deal is over. My protection is gone. The bullies will come back tomorrow. They will be meaner than before.

"Your wrist!" I yell.

He stops. He does not turn around. His back is broad. His shoulders are tight.

"It is still swollen," I say. I walk toward him. My footsteps are quiet. "You can't play on Friday. You know that. Not like this. You can't even hold your stick. You need the treatment. You need me to fix it."

Jaxson stays still for a long time. I see his chest move as he takes a deep breath. He is fighting with himself. He hates me right now. He thinks I am a thief. But he loves hockey more than he hates me. He needs to win. He needs the scouts to see him.

He turns around. He looks at his right hand. He moves his fingers slowly. He winces. The pain is clear on his face. He looks at the wooden bench. Then he looks at me.

"Sit down," I say. I try to sound like a doctor. I try to sound like I am in charge.

He walks to the bench. He sits down with a heavy sigh. He slams his hand down on the wood. Thud. "Do it," he says. "But do not talk to me. We are not friends. This is a job. We are nothing."

I sit next to him. The bench is old and hard. I open my bag. I take out the small bottle of oil. I take his hand in mine. His skin is very hot. It feels like a fever. My hands are very cold. When I touch him, he flinches. He tries to pull his hand away. I hold on tight. I do not let go.

"Hold still, Jaxson," I say.

I put a drop of oil on his wrist. It smells like eucalyptus and mint. I begin to rub the oil into his skin. I move my thumbs in small, deep circles. I focus on the bone. I focus on the place where it hurts the most. I do not look at his face. I do not want to see the anger in his blue eyes.

The gym is silent. It is so quiet I can hear a bird on the roof. I can hear Jaxson’s breathing. it is heavy. It is uneven. He is in pain.

"You're pressing too hard," he grunts. His left hand is a fist.

"I have to," I say. I keep my voice calm. "The fluid is stuck. I have to move it. If I don't, it will stay swollen. You will need surgery. You will miss the whole season."

He makes a small sound of pain. He reaches out with his left hand. He doesn't think about it. He grabs the fabric of my hoodie. He pulls me a little closer.

I keep working. My fingers are getting tired. The oil makes his skin slippery. I can feel his pulse. Thump, thump, thump. It is very fast. He is nervous. Or maybe he is just angry.

"Why are you still helping me?" he asks. His voice is different now. It is not cold anymore. It is quiet. It is almost a whisper. "If I think you are a thief... if the whole school is talking about you... why do you care about my wrist?"

I stop moving my hands. I look up. He is looking at me. We are very close. I can see the gold spots in his blue eyes. I can see a small scar near his eyebrow.

"Because I know what it feels like to lose everything," I say. I think about Leo. I think about our small, quiet house. "My brother lost his dream. He had nothing left. I don't want to see that happen to you. Even if you are a jerk."

Jaxson looks surprised. He lets go of my hoodie. He looks down at his hand. The purple color is a little lighter now. The skin looks less tight.

"I'm not a thief, Jaxson," I say again. I look him in the eyes. "I promise you."

He doesn't say he believes me. He doesn't say sorry. He just stands up. He pulls his sleeve down to hide the wrist. He looks at the door. Then he looks up at the balcony. He looks at the dark spot where the noise came from yesterday.

"I saw someone today," he says.

My heart stops. My breath catches. "Who?"

"I don't know," Jaxson says. He frowns. "But they were following you after school. I saw a shadow in a dark coat. They stayed behind the trees. I thought it was just a fan. But they were watching you, Vance."

He looks at me. His eyes are worried for a split second. Then the ice comes back. "Be careful. If someone is following you, they might find this place."

He walks to the door. He stops and looks back at me. "I will see you tomorrow. At lunch. I keep my deals. I will sit at your table."

He leaves. The door shuts. Click.

I am alone in the dark gym. My hands still smell like the sharp oil. I am happy he is still coming to lunch. The deal is safe. But I am scared. Someone is following me. Someone has a video. Someone is playing a very dangerous game.

And now, I think Jaxson is starting to see the shadows too.