Tanner lunges at Mateo, but Mat steps to the side. Tanner looks like a semi-truck that lost control of its brakes, and he skids on the pavement.

When he does stop, he turns slowly and licks his lips. “Oooh, this is gonna be fun. You’re as good as they say, huh?” he asks.

“Better,” Mateo replies, and he crouches in a stance. My heart leaps into my throat. Tanner has at least fifty pounds on him, not to mention three more years of experience.

“We’ll see about that.” Tanner rushes Mateo again. He locks his fingers around Mat’s neck and pulls him close. Mat’s feet dig into the parking lot ground for stability. Tanner moves in for a throw, but Mat blocks it, his forearm knocking Tanner’s hip away. Tanner laughs, moves in to attempt the throw again, but no—it’s a fake-out. Tanner spins to the front, kicks his right leg in between Mateo’s feet and sweeps him. Mat falls hard, and I gasp. There are no wrestling mats out here to protect his back or his head. Mateo grits his teeth, and when Tanner lands on top of him, Mat rolls quickly, flipping Tanner over.

Mateo’s on top! Even though Tanner has fifty pounds on him, Mat flips him over. Mat locks his arms around Tanner’s neck, embracing him tightly for a pin, but Tanner’s too strong. He breaks free and shoves Mat off him. Mateo flies about three feet in the air. 

Mat lands on his feet, but now a few of the other varsity guys grab him, locking arms behind his back.

I run toward him. “No!” I yell, and Logan kicks me in my stomach. Falling forward, I throw out my arms, and I scratch my hands and knees on the concrete.

Logan pulls my hair, and I scream. “Which side’s your bad one?” he asks.

Being that I’ve just gotten out of the doctor’s office, I pray that he’ll hit me anywhere but there. I don’t answer, but I place my hands over my right side. 

“Good to know,” he says and spits at me. 

Mateo yells, and I climb onto one knee. Tanner slugs him in the stomach with an uppercut and then hits him in the side of the face with a hook.

“Asshole!” I yell.

That gets his attention. 

“You mean the senior captain of the wrestling team can’t handle a freshman one-on-one?” I ask, spittle flying out of my mouth. 

He laughs and struts over to me. My arms tremble, but at least he leaves Mateo alone. “Oh, I can handle him, but this is more fun. You should have kept your mouth shut, homo.” Tanner pulls me up. “Hey, Logan. Wanna practice that throw I showed you?”

“Hell, yeah,” Logan answers through giggles. He grabs me and swings me around. His stance is wide, each foot outside my own. It’s a throw I don’t know, and I flip over his hips. I land hard on my back. Mateo roars, breaking free from the varsity wrestlers holding him.

He slugs Logan in the face. 

Then Mat faces Tanner, and they lock arms again. Tanner throws a knee into Mat’s stomach, flips him over his shoulder, and lands on top of him. 

Tanner elbows him in the face. “This is your warning, assholes. Our team has standards, and you’re living well below them.” He spits at Mat. “Even if I, uh, understood your choices or whatever—” His face twitches like he’s trying to think of the words he wants to say. “You are a distraction to the team’s goals. We win. We don’t date each other. Understand?” He doesn’t wait for a response. Instead, Logan and the others raise their hands and give Tanner high-fives. Then they walk away.

I want to puke.

The varsity squad and Logan get in their cars. Engines come to life, and tires squeal. The smell of burned rubber lingers in the air as the jerks peel out of the parking lot. Mateo scrambles to his feet and helps me up.

“Thanks,” I say.

His face is beet-red. “I’m not gay, you know.” He says it harshly, and it scares me.

“Um,” I stutter. “I never thought you were.”

“Yeah, but they do.” He looks fiercely into my eyes. “Because of you.” 

Nausea rises in my throat. 

“I’m not gay either,” I tell him. 

It’s a lie, one I’ve told myself over and over again. But it’s a lie I’m willing to tell if I can keep Mat on my side, and maybe keep us from getting beat up again.

He looks me over. “Yeah?” he asks.

I nod. “Yeah.”

He shrugs and looks down the street. “Those guys are a bunch of douche bags.”

“That’s sayin’ it rather nicely,” I tell him, and it makes him chuckle.

He takes several deep breaths, staring down the now empty road. “You okay?” he asks, turning to me.

His beautiful brown eyes widen, and I wish I could tell him the truth about me. He should know what he’s really fighting for—not defending me against a lie, but standing up for me against hate. 

Isn’t the truth worth fighting for? 

“They at least didn’t get my ribs. But now more of me hurts,” I reply. More of me than I can honestly tell you. “You gonna tell Krake about this?”

He snorts. “You crazy? Krake would be on their side.”

I shake my head. “Then I’m done with this. Look, man, I get your reasons. You’re good. You could have taken Tanner if it was a fair fight, and he’s incredible. But I’m done.”

He frowns. “I wish—I dunno.” He clears his throat. “I could help you,” he says. “Private training. Just you and me. What about revenge? You quit now, and Logan will give you hell for the next four years of high school.”

“Maybe I could move.”

“Yeah, but every school’s got a kid like Logan,” Mat says, getting closer to me. His right hand reaches for me like he’s going to put an arm around my shoulder. Then he puts his hand in his pocket, but he steps closer. His shoulder almost brushes against me. 

My heart races. I like Mateo. I really like Mateo. My body turns warm, and I have to look away. “You’d really work with me one-on-one?” I ask, my voice way too high.

“Hell yeah. I want to see you kick Logan’s ass.” He removes his right hand from his pocket. It approaches me, slowly, and then it settles over my shoulders. His hand squeezes my shoulder, only for a second, and then he lets go. 

It wasn’t a long touch, but my heart is beating so fast I’m sure Mateo can see it.

I giggle, and it sounds lame. Not manly or attractive at all, but he doesn’t seem to notice or mind.

Swallowing hard, I try to get a grip on my emotions. I have to admit I’d like to kick Logan’s ass, too. Me standing on top of that loser bully giving him a dose of his own medicine—yeah, that would be a pretty nice sight to see. “Okay. I guess. But, I dunno, if it gets much worse—” 

“How much worse can it get?”