Playing Patience (Blow Hole Boys 1) - Page 23

“I don’t think I know anyone named Jacob, but I’m way too busy to date right now, Syd. Maybe once I graduate.” I tugged a strand of her hair as I walked by and went upstairs for a shower.

Once I was settled in for bed, my phone went off with a text message from Megan.

Megan: FYI Zeke’s serving his community service at that Boy’s Club place on North Rhett Avenue.

Me: OK. Why are you telling me this?

Megan: OMG don’t even act like you’re not into him.

Me: I’m not.

Megan: Whatever. I’m not buying it. You should volunteer. Just saying.

Me: Maybe I will.

Megan: Good. OK, see you in the AM, Zeke Lover.

Me: OMG whatever! Goodnight, slut puppy. LOL

Megan: Hey, I kind of like the sound of that. LOL Goodnight!

The next day after soccer practice, I had Megan take me to the Boy’s Club so I could volunteer. The Boy’s Club was a place for young, troubled boys to go after school. It would be hard dealing with a bunch of badass young boys, but if Zeke had to do it, it was only fair I did too. I walked into a huge gymnasium full of boys running around with basketballs. The sound of squeaking rubber echoed off the walls and mixed with loud laughter and joking, making for a very loud space.

There were older boys and girls wearing bright- blue T-shirts scattered throughout the room. On the backs of the shirts were either the words “Big Brother” or “Big Sister.” It was kind of cool they had a place for troubled kids to run to other than the streets.

A few boys caught my attention as they stared at me and snickered to themselves. A brave one stepped away from the group and came up to me. He was no more than thirteen with a dirty white shirt and holey sneakers.

“My friend over there thinks you look good,” he said with a big smile as he pointed to another boy in the group.

“Oh, well, tell your friend I said thank you,” I said as I started to turn and walk away.

I turned and face-planted right into Zeke’s chest. I pulled back and he peered down at me through dark bangs. He shifted his head to the side, throwing his bangs out of his face, and then he sighed.

“You again,” he said as he crossed his arms and bit down on his lip ring. “Guess that means I’m going to jail today.”

I suddenly got a big case of nerves. “Why would you go to jail?” I fiddled with my hair.

“Every time I see you I end up behind bars. What happened to your face?” he blurted out.

I laughed like it was nothing, and then I threw out one of the lies I’d been spinning.

“It was a stupid soccer ball to the face yesterday at practice.”

He didn’t believe me. I could see it in his eyes.

“Why are you here? I mean, other than to flirt with underage boys.” The side of his mouth tilted up.

“I wasn’t flirting with underage boys and I’m here to volunteer. It’s only fair since we were both arrested.” I began to fidget.

“How did you know I was here?” he asked. He moved in closer and towered over me. Leaning in, he got in my ear and whispered, “Does your daddy know you’re stalking me, snowflake?”

He was too close. I didn’t like it when guys got too close, and I suddenly felt like I couldn’t breathe. I stepped back like he’d burned me.

“My. Name. Is. Patience!” I said too loudly.

My voice bounced off the walls and echoed throughout the gym. Everyone around us stopped and looked at me like I was crazy. Embarrassment set in and I felt my entire body turn red. My cheeks were on fire and I wanted to shrivel up and disappear.

Above me, Zeke let out a throaty chuckle.

“Careful, snowflake, if your face gets too hot, you might melt.”

Seven

Zeke

Spending my afternoons hanging out with a bunch of badass brats didn’t sound very appealing, but once the judge threw down his gravel there wasn’t shit I could say. It was better than thirty days in jail. So after zoning out in class all day Tuesday, I hopped in my car and headed for the Boy’s Club to clock in.

I was assaulted by the smell of old gym shoes as soon as I walked into the gym full of young boys. Every noise in the room echoed and made my headache ten times worse. I was approached by a young woman with bouncy black hair and she smiled up at me innocently.

“Are you Zeke?” she asked with a smile.

“That’s me,” I said with less exuberance.

“Great! You’re early.” She beamed. “My name’s Lindy! Let’s get you in a Big Brother shirt and I’ll show you to your group.”

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