The Smile Has Left Your Eyes

Chapter Ten

Aspen

"Aspen?" A hand grasped my shoulder softly.

With wide eyes, I shoved the limb off and jumped back, startled. "Rafe," I sighed, sliding my arms across my mouth to try to clean up. There was now a thin line of yellow-and-clear saliva staining my dark sweatshirt. I rubbed my other hand over my eyes, flinching when I accidentally touched a raw cut on top of my cheekbone. I diverted my gaze to the ground in an attempt to hide my face.

"Are you okay?" His face scrunched up and he took a step closer. Rafe slid a hand onto the middle of my back and rubbed gentle circles, warmth spreading through my stomach. I couldn't tell if the motion was calming or upsetting my stomach even more.

"I'm fine," I mumbled.

"What was that about?"

"It was nothing." I pulled my arms closer to my body as I took a step away from him.

His hand dropped back to his side. "Really? Because it didn't seem like nothing. Why was Devin chasing after you?"

"I must've forgotten something in the locker room and he wanted to give it back," I muttered with a raspy voice, my throat on fire from the acidic aftertaste.

"Then why were you running away?" Concern laced his soft tone.

I bit my lip, not caring if I reopened the scab for the millionth time.

Rafe sighed, "Aspen, I actually really need to talk to you about something."

"Uhm," my voice cracked, "if it's about what happened after our last game, it's fine. I saw Devin's story, so..."

"I wanted to apologize for that, too, but no. There's something else I want to say." There was a long pause. "Why won't you look at me?" It was practically a whisper.

My heart felt like it was beating out of my chest and I picked at the skin around my fingernails.

Rafe bent his head down to see me, but I turned away, hoping that my hood covered enough.

"Do you have a black eye?! And your cheek's bleeding..."

I didn't respond.

He advanced farther in front of me to the point where I couldn't move and he could see my face, even when I turned away.

"Come on." He grabbed my hand, four of my fingers squished together between his.

He's holding my hand.

It feels so nice...

His hand bled warmth into my own, forcing my palm to clam up. But I didn't care, the feel of his skin against mine, of his fingers so close to intertwining with my own, it was electric.

"Where are we going?" Exhaustion dripped from my mouth; I didn't have the energy to resist, to keep Rafe from seeing how bad my face really looked with Alex's punch blooming into a deep red around my mouth and Devin's a deep purple on my eye.

"My house." Rafe's answer was brief and offered no explanation.

"But you have practice."

Rafe stopped in his tracks the second we were in front of his car and pursed his lips. "There are more important things than baseball."

He let go of my hand and climbed into the driver's seat. I looked down at my fingers; humid wind swept across the damp skin, prickles of cold tickling my hand. Tingles rippled through my nerves like something was missing, like the heat that had been encasing my hand was supposed to be there, like Rafe's hand was meant to be there.