Page 40 of Better Than Revenge

“I didn’t invite Jensen to the party, by the way,” he said as we walked. “Someone else must’ve.”

“I figured.”

“But it was good, right? He saw you looking hot.” He winked my way.

“Are you saying I don’t always look hot?” I asked. Two could play at his ultra-confident game.

“Nope.” But that’s all he said. He didn’t elaborate. Safe answer.

“Did you tell Jensen about his stuff, by the way?” I asked.

“His stuff?”

“The stuff I brought to your house that I wanted to burn?”

“I didn’t talk to Jensen at all that night. I wanted to kick him out but got distracted with your revenge plan, and that sounded like a better idea.”

Who else could’ve told Jensen about the bag? Had Theo’s mom overheard me?

We arrived at a large chain-link gate that during the school week was open but was now very much closed, with a chain, a padlock and everything.

He let out a grunt. “Since when do they close the field?”

“Outside of football season? Almost always. We once got locked out of soccer practice.”

“And you didn’t think to say this on our walk over?”

I shrugged. “I thought you had popularity privileges. That you got the janitor to open it up or something.”

“No privileges,” he muttered. Then he looked up at the top of the gate as though assessing its scalability.

“I am way too sore to climb this,” I said before the idea became too firmly planted in his mind.

“Here, step in my hands.” He assumed position, hands clasped, legs braced, shoulder against the fence.

“I am not climbing this, Theo,” I said, unmoving.

“Come on, you won’t hurt me.”

“I will hurtme,” I said.

“I’m beginning to think you’re stubborn,” he said, dropping his hands to his sides.

“Maybe you’re the stubborn one. Follow me.” I walked along the fence line as he trailed behind.

“Do you know a secret way onto the field?”

“I might.” If it hadn’t been fixed since last year.

The football field and the soccer field were one and the same at our small beach-town school. And last year, the entire girls’ soccer team had ended up here at midnight. It had been the day before Deja’s birthday; someone started a group chat that we should all meet at midfield at midnight because she was turning sixteen, and apparently this was the way to show how special that was. When we couldn’t get in, we found an opening on the far side of the field where the school fence shared a wall with the adjoining walking trail and neighborhood. We’d all squeezed through it and played a game of soccer in the dark.

I must’ve been wrapped up in the memory, because I didn’t hear the voices until Theo grabbed me around the waist and pulled me behind the janitor’s shed. The voices were on the far side of thefence, moving along the walking trail. Theo’s arm was still around my waist, both our backs pushed against the building, listening intently. It sounded like a group of kids.

He clearly came to the same realization, because he said, “See, I’m a vault with your secret.”

“Such a vault,” I agreed. Our breaths were heavy with the panic of the moment. I knew this because my right shoulder was tucked into his left.

His fingers tightened on my waist before he dropped his arm, retrieving it from behind me. “I think we’re safe now.”