“My brothers.” Even Chris had told me never to insert myself into the middle of a fight unless I thought it was absolutely necessary. And I learned the hard way that getting between two of my brothers fighting usually ended in both of them being mad at meand just fighting again later, anyway.
I glance between Mark and Tommy. Both are being given a stern talking to from the coach, and from the way Mark walks off toward the changing room and Tommy leaves through the emergency exit, I’m certain they’ve both been booted from the tournament, if not the club.
“I’llgo make sure Tommy’s in one piece,” Bethany says, springing up. She trots down the stairs and makes her way to the emergency exit. I watch her go and then my gaze slips to the doorway Mark went through.
“Are you going to check on Mark?” I ask Sebastian.
He snorts. “I’m sure he’d much ratheryoufollow after him.”
I only sit for a few seconds, hesitating, then I spring up and follow after Mark.
Chapter Thirteen
Mark is changed when I find him. You couldn’t have guessed he was in a fight moments ago, his shirt all clean-lines, crisp corners, and his hair perfectly tousled. I feel strange approaching Mark first and not waiting for him to find me.
He turns, spotting me in the doorway. His expression brightens.
“Are you still up for a drink? Or do you need to go home and lick your wounds?”
“What wounds?” Mark asks innocently. “I didn’t notice anything worthy of a bruise.”
His statement is unconvincing, given his still-healing black eye. He walks toward me, and I wait for him to get closer before speaking. “Are you sure?” I ask. “I know you like your bruising cream.”
Mark rolls his eyes. “As much as I like my ice packs, yes. Come on, before Tommy spots us leaving and tries to impound you.”
We walk, Mark falling into step on my left. Once we’re outside the building and out into the twilight of late evening, he places his hand against my back. “Are you cold?”
“I’m good. Should we take the bus?”
“How about we drive to yours? And we can call a taxi from there,” Mark suggests. “Did you have somewhere in mind?”
Most of the venues I’ve been out to in the past were places suited to large groups of people since my nightlife used to be after-club drinking sessions and hang-outs. I’m sure there’s going to be one tonight after the volleyball finishes up, so that strikes every one of those bars from the list instantly. I don’t want anyone we know stumbling upon us and end up getting too shy to actually talk to Mark. I’ve made it this far; I want it to go well.
“I actually can’t drink too much tonight,” I begin, glancing away from Mark. I don’t want to admit it, given that I invited him out for a drink, but I don’t think Mark will get mad at me for it. “So, I thought we could go somewhere outside of the night district. There’s a pub off the main shop street that is doing a trivia quiz, which could be fun?” I suggest it as a question. If Mark hates the idea, I can put up with a busier spot.
Relief crosses Mark’s expression, and he nods. “That sounds good.”
I frown as we get into the car. “What is it?”
“Hm?”
“You made a face.”
“Did I?” Mark’s smile is self-conscious. “I was worried you were going to say Yeats or Vale. It gets so hectic in there, I’d be worried about someone knocking into you.”
“World’s a busy place. It’s going to happen plenty more times, whether I avoid crowds or not.” I don’t mention that I was thinking the same thing or that I’m touched that he’s put some thought into our night out together, too. It wasn’t just something he agreed to and then forgot about.
“I know. But if I ever see someone kick your crutches out from under you again because they can’t use their eyes, then I’m making sure they’ll never make the mistake again,” Mark says, issuing his threat very casually.
“That was an accident.”
“Yeah, which is why I didn’t say anything. If I’d realisedthenhow much pain that thoughtless—” Mark stops abruptly with a hard exhale. “Anyway. Trivia night sounds perfect.”
???
Trivia night is far from perfect. It’s so bad that I wonder how I’m doing well at college, and I wonder why I ever thought Mark was smart. Between the two of us, the only topic we get more than half the questions correct is the sports section.
“I didn’t realise my general knowledge was so bad,” I admit, sipping alcohol-free beer. I’m tucked into a cushioned alcove with Mark, who, throughout the night, has gotten closer and closer. I think one of his hobbies is feeling up my thigh and turning me on. He keeps rubbing with his thumb and squeezing at random moments.
