CHAPTER 5

Malachi Flynn started showing up for training. Although he didn't get to join the team, he kept

training and playing with them. He even refused the uniform, wearing

only

his gym wear. Jude Queens was getting used to him

being around. He'd watch Malachi from afar, like not seeing him, and Malachi fit in with the rest of them just fine. Malachi was always talking, always smiling. He kidded

and laughed if he did

something wrong. He spoke Spanish flawlessly with an accent Jude couldn't identify but found utterly

enchanting. Jude witnessed Malachi humming

softly

to

himself or nodding his head to the rhythm of a

tune

that didn't exist more than once. When he did, it was impossible not to look. Jude never knew anyone who radiated

as

he did. His smile was infectious, and his laugh

lit

up the whole gym. Malachi still wrestled

with conditioning, and you could tell how tired he was at the end of practice. But Jude knew

he'd get

there. It was just a matter of time.

They were finally able

to get in a practice game, and Malachi insisted on playing on Jude's team. Playing with him was even better than Jude had ever imagined it could be. Despite looking

untamed, Malachi watched

everything on the court and what Jude was going to do. Jude barely needed to think about what he wanted; Malachi was there to grab it. His actions were smooth and calculated, a far

cry

from his usually

free-spirited demeanor. The longer the game went on, the more Jude realized how much

he was into Malachi. He hoped his expression didn't show it.

But

any

time Malachi tried to talk to Jude, he couldn't

get

into the rhythm, interrupting

over

and

over

again

and getting more frazzled

because of it. Jude wished

things

could be simple, but Jude

was so anxious around Malachi that he couldn't fake normal. The bigger Jude's crush got, the more

terrible the chat

was. Malachi would grin or chuckle

and move

away

every time, but the gap between them grew wider and wider with each passing day.

When they went to their next tournament, Malachi started showing up less and less. They headed

out for games, and Jude missed having him around. Jude started running

into Malachi more often

on campus, and he'd wave Jude's direction, but that was a letdown. When they won

the tournament, Klaus and Yon coaxed Jude into going to another party. Jude hardly complained, hoping maybe Malachi would attend. As

Jude

could tell, Malachi was only

interested

in parties.

Jude fussed with his clothes, trying harder

with

his looks. He didn't know how

much good it would do, given Malachi was likely straight, but it couldn't hurt. The

minute

they arrived, Klaus started pushing beers in

his face. Even though Jude protested, he had been drinking, and it was beginning to take

its

toll

on him. The party was the typical: a too-warm

room, full

of sweaty bodies. Jude excused herself to the bathroom, and when she came back, both were

busy

talking to a group of girls. Jude let

out

a

frustrated

sigh

and

went

out. It

was frustrating to have

arrived

at

this

party. Malachi was nowhere to be seen, and now Jude was drunk and sweating in

front of them of a frat house.

Jude walked towards what he assumed was the garden, found a ledge he could lean against, and sat enjoying the silence.

“It figures you’d be hiding out here,” Jude heard, and opened his eyes to see Malachi walking towards him. Malachi looked effortlessly cool, with his tousled hair and a relaxed smile that made Jude’s heart skip a beat.

"Hi," Jude said. Malachi leaned against the ledge, too, not very close. "It's too hot in there—it's always too hot," Jude told him.

Malachi chuckled. "Drinking, Jude?" he said with a frown, making

like

he

was

shocked but still smiling.

"Yeah, I guess," Jude replied, trying to sound nonchalant.

"Good, good. You should be. Congratulations on the win." Malachi produced

a

flask from his back pocket and took

a swig. Jude watched him

take

a sip. Malachi saw Jude and offered him the flask.

"No, thank

you."

"Suit yourself." Malachi shrugged.

"What's

that?" Jude made

a

point not to interrupt the conversation again and chase him off.

"Whiskey," Malachi said.

Jude's eyebrows furrowed. That was a little too much, but he guessed that's what you

did at parties.

"You

don't

drink much, do you?" Malachi asked, raising

an

eyebrow

sarcastically.

"No, not really. I don't like the taste or the sensation," Jude admitted, blushing

in

front

of Malachi.

"Do you smoke?" Malachi did a gesture like smoking marijuana.

No, Jude said, a bit

guilty

for it. He could almost hear Klaus complaining about him being boring.

"That sounds just about right. Would you ever do it?" Malachi asked. His smile wasn't

quite

as

normal, and Jude's heart was racing.

"I don't think so," Jude said

honestly.

Malachi's smile broadened, and he edged

over to sit a bit closer to Jude. "What

if it was with me?"

he whispered, lowering his voice. His green eyes focused

on Jude's, intense and compelling.

Jude's heart was banging against his ribcage. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to understand.

"Why would it make any difference if it was with me?" Jude asked.

Malachi scrunched up his nose, his

face averted. He laughed. Malachi got up off the ledge, and Jude wished

he

could

kick himself. That was something

he

wasn't

supposed to have said. He'd scared Malachi off.

Malachi reached into his pocket, pulled out a joint and a lighter. He lit the joint, glaring at Jude and walking toward him. "Still intimidating

me,

huh?"

"Yeah, I guess so."

Malachi smiled and stepped

up, the subdued light casting his sharp cheekbones into shadow.

"You're fucking intimidating, Jude. Anyone

ever tell you that?"

"No, really," Jude said. "Scary, yes. Intimidating, no."

A soft laughter escaped Malachi. "Yeah, well you are," he said, leaning

forward to pull another drag off

the cigarette, then stepping over

to Jude.

Why?" Jude insisted, intrigued by Malachi placing the joint between his lips and then between

his loosely clasped

fingers, the way his lips naturally

fitted around it.

"First, you're fucking huge," he began.

Jude chuckled. "I'm not huge," he protested, but Malachi's eyes

never

left

his

face, remained judgmental.

"You are. And you're blunt. It's like you don't know how to sugarcoat

what

you

say," Malachi said.

Yes, that one Jude had already

listened to. "Sorry."

Malachi took another step closer and stood directly

before

Jude, so close that

Jude could

catch

a

whiff

of his cologne mixed with smoke—most definitely sandalwood.

"And you stare lots

and

don't

talk. It's kind

of

spooky. It's like I

don't even know if you even find me kinda fucking annoying," Malachi ceased.