Chapter 11: The World Is Watching
12
When Lucas played basketball again, I bought his favorite water from the corner gas station—Fiji, the one that cost more than my lunch.
He looked so handsome on the court, overflowing with energy. Halfway through, he spotted me, and his play turned fierce. He led his team to a big win.
His friends cheered, high-fiving him as he strutted off. Sweat dripped down his face, but he looked happier than I’d seen him in weeks.
Girls lined the bleachers, snapping selfies, their voices echoing off the cinderblock walls. When Lucas came over, they all tried to give him water. But he kept a cold face and walked straight to me.
I felt every eye in the gym on me, whispers and stares burning into my skin. I clutched the bottle, wishing I could disappear.
I wasn’t used to being watched, but I had to listen to Lucas. After leaving my house, he’d sent me $30,000. I was scared if he got angry, he’d want it back.
I tried to look casual, though my hands shook. This was the price of playing along—I just hoped I could handle it.
I took a deep breath, forced a shy smile.
“Lucas, here’s your water.”
My voice was soft. I held out the bottle, hoping he’d take it and end the staring.
Lucas stopped, but didn’t take it. The gym went quiet. The girls started whispering. I lowered my head, cheeks burning. My arm dropped.
But then Lucas spoke: “My hand hurts. Feed me.”
The whispers hit me like a wave—jealous, sharp. I caught a girl’s glare, her mouth twisted in a sneer.
I froze, then blushed. A wave of gasps. I even heard a girl cry, “Why her? What do I lack compared to her?”
The jealousy was thick. But I kept my head high, determined not to let them see me falter.
Lucas spoke again: “Deaf?”
His tone was sharp, but I knew he was just showing off. I unscrewed the cap, careful not to spill, and held the bottle to his lips.
He drank a few sips, then said quietly, “Come to my place tonight.”
His breath was cool against my hand. I nodded, barely meeting his eyes.
I nodded frantically. But my heart was overgrown with weeds. Is this a new bet? Or something else? Didn’t Lucas not want anyone to know about us?
I chewed my bottom lip, trying not to let the doubt show. I didn’t know what game we were playing anymore—or who was really winning.
I was uneasy all afternoon. When I went out for air, I saw Lucas and his friends heading to the rooftop.
I followed at a distance, curiosity too strong. The sun set, painting the sky orange and pink. I wondered if tonight would change anything.
“Lucas, are you planning to go public with Natalie?”
The words drifted back to me. I pressed myself against the cold cinderblock, heart pounding. Was I about to become more than his secret—or lose him for good?