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Race breathed a sigh of relief when the school bell rang, sprinting from the room with his backpack hanging off his shoulders. With classes done for the day, he needed to clear his mind and he headed towards the back of the school to a place hardly anyone else knew of. When he reached the woods, Race honed in on his tree, throwing his things down before sitting amongst the roots.
It’d be another hour or so before his mother could come to pick him up, so he savored the time alone. He didn’t have to start homework yet and he could forget about all else under the shade of the branches.
That is until Race heard something snap and he peered up into the leaves. His stomach dropped when he saw a figure sitting high in the treetops, a small huff leaving him. Really, he could only see a pair of black combat boots, but it was enough to annoy Race as he called up.
“This is my spot, you know.”
The shadow laughed and Race saw more of them as they moved down to the lower branches of the trees.
“I didn’t know I was yours. When did that happen?”
Upon hearing the familiar voice, Race groaned, running a hand down his face. Spot Conlon was in the year above him, but Race knew and heard plenty. He was smart enough to avoid Spot’s wrath, but Race wondered if it was any worse than what could possibly happen next.
Glancing back up at the branches, Race could see Spot grinning down at him and he squinted.
“What?”
“You’re Racetrack, aren’t you?” Spot asked, one leg propped up while the other swung amongst the leaves.
Race shrugged in attempt to hide his surprise. While there were some overlaps in their circles, Race was sure Spot had passed over him.
“Yeah, Jacky boy’s told me all about you,” Spot grinned in a way that made Race’s stomach twist. “Didn’t expect us to have such similar tastes.”
“We like the same tree. That’s nothing,” Race retorted. Whatever Spot was doing, Race wasn’t pleased as he started collecting his things.
“Wait,” Spot called, but Race didn’t listen.
There were other places around campus he could be, without the company of Spot, and Race slung his backpack over his shoulder. He heard the rustling of leaves, ignoring it until he heard a sharp yell. Coming face to face with Spot hanging upside down, Race could only stare as Spot attempted to grapple with his foot caught in a branch.
Spot swore colorfully, his body folding up and down as the branches shook. Race couldn’t help himself, falling back against the trunk of the tree as laughter bubbled out of him. Even when he received a glare in response, Race only laughed louder as Spot twisted around.
“This isn’t funny,” Spot groaned, his face growing red.
Getting the last of his laughs out, Race grabbed onto the nearest branch and climbed up to where Spot’s foot was caught.
“Ready?” Race said, his face still painted in a smile.
With Spot’s nod, Race pushed his foot out, wincing when Spot hit the ground with a hard thud. Spot swore again and Race stayed in the tree to avoid any physical outburst. Hopping to his feet, Spot kept the weight off his one foot as he surveyed himself and the area around him.
“Thanks, Race.” He shielded his eyes from the sun that poked through as he stared at Race in the branches.
Race swallowed, hoping the leaves were hiding his face enough. There was something to be had with Spot, but Race couldn’t put his finger on it.
“Well?” Spot asked, a hand resting on his hip. “You gonna stay up there all day or what?”
“Could’ve asked you the same question,” Race mumbled as he worked on climbing back down.
Landing gracefully on his feet, Race glanced down at Spot’s propped foot and raised an eyebrow. Spot didn’t meet his eyes, so Race knelt down, reaching out towards Spot’s ankle.
“Whoa, wait,” Spot hopped back a little and Race rolled his eyes.
“If nothing was wrong, you’d be standing on it.”
Not wanting to concede to Race’s truth, Spot huffed as he shook his head. “It’s just sore. That’s all.”
Race motioned for Spot to bring his foot back and it was a silent screaming match as the two stared at each other. Finally, Spot gave in, looking away as Race rolled up the leg of his pants.
With the boot covering everything, Race pushed down his embarrassment as he took it off along with Spot’s sock. Spot was tense in his hold, but Race pressed on, his fingers tracing along Spot’s ankle. There was a bruise or two forming, but nothing else seemed out of the ordinary. Loosening his grip on Spot, Race waited until they made eye contact again before dropping Spot’s foot.
Spot rushed into putting back on his sock and boot, mumbling his thanks as he tested his foot out again. Race did his best to ignore the blush on Spot’s face, sure that his own held the same expression.
“Probably just have to stay off it tonight, huh?” Spot commented as Race stood up.
“Yeah. Sure,” Race shrugged. All he did was make sure it wasn’t sprained. He didn’t know what else to do from there.
With a nod, Spot headed out first, his limp obviously causing him discomfort. With a sigh, Race joined Spot’s side, throwing his arm over his shoulders.
“I’m fine,” Spot began to protest, but Race glared at him and he went quiet.
“When’s your ride coming?” Race asked as they made their way back to the front of the school.
“Don’t have one. I walk.”
Checking his watch, Race figured it’d be another half hour before his mother would show up. Waiting was better than worsening the injury and Race sat them down on a bench.
“My mom will be here soon. We’ll take you home.”
Spot leaned back a little, his stare piercing through Race’s skin. “You don’t have to do that.”
“You’re the one with the hurt foot,” Race pointed with a scowl. “I’m not letting you walk.”
With a small groan, Spot slouched on the bench, his arms crossed. It was kind of cute if Race was being honest and he blushed at the thought of calling Spot cute.
“Yeah, I’m more handsome really.”
Race’s stomach dropped and he covered his mouth with his hands. His friends had pointed out his tendency to say things out loud, but he was sure he hadn’t said any of that. Daring to look at Spot, Race then buried his face in his hands as his apology came out pitiful and small.
“It’s okay,” Spot’s voice danced. “We can just go get ice cream on Saturday.”
Pulling his hands down, Race whipped his head towards Spot to see him teasing with a small grin, his thumb running over his lower lip. It sent a shiver down Race’s spine and he opened his mouth to say more until a car horn interrupted them.
His mother was early and Race cursed as he collected himself and Spot, dragging the boy to the car. Telling his mother he’d explain later, Race pushed the two of them into the back seat, his mother chuckling to herself as they buckled in.
The ride to Spot’s house was surprisingly pleasant if only for Race’s mother and Spot holding a steady conversation. Race didn’t even know Spot could be this charming, his heart beating a little faster in his chest.
When they arrived, Race hid his disappointment and helped Spot to the front door of his house.
“I’ll see you Saturday, then,” Spot grinned, disappearing into the house before Race had a chance to respond.
Mumbling to himself, Race hunched up his shoulders as he climbed into the front seat, refusing to face his mother head-on. Taking none of this, she nudged Race’s arm, pointing out all the nice things about Spot as they drove home. While she wasn’t wrong, Race couldn’t figure out how this all happened.
He’d have to talk to Jack about it at school tomorrow and Race found himself eager for when he and Spot would run into each other next.