RUSH

Ch. 11: The Bitter Taste of Realization

-Bennett-

"I don't want to talk about it." I grabbed the ice pack from Jonah's hand and carefully pressed it against my sprained ankle, sighing out as the coolness soothed some of the ache. I hoped that'd be enough to deter him, but I could feel the curiosity seeping from him in waves. "Thanks for the help, though," I offered softly while glancing down at the angry, red swelling blossoming along my flesh.

Hopefully, it'd heal quickly.

Jonah nodded his head, exhaling a tired sigh before sitting down on the side of the bench that Riley hadn't already taken over; she'd found us while we were trying to sneak through the lobby and decided to tag along.

We were currently hiding out in the staff's locker room, huddled by the freezer where we kept the ice packs, all the way near the back of the room. "You still look a bit shaken up; is that why we had to use the emergency exit?"

I sighed, contemplating threatening him into some semblance of silent compliance before realizing how amused they both seemed by the whole ordeal. "Hey, he told you to stop asking," Riley scolded while half-heartedly smacking the back of Jonah's head, even if she did proceed to turn and look at me with wide, equally expectant eyes.

"It was just an accident, alright? No big deal," I assured them, even if I couldn't help but occasionally glance at the door, waiting to see if that bitter, old man had made a complaint against me.

I half-expected Marissa to burst through that door and yell at me as well. I'd even made Jonah grab my backpack from my locker in case I needed to flee at a moment's notice.

"I assumed he was just overreacting," Riley replied encouragingly.

I frowned, nervously glancing between them. "Uh—so, you guys know, then?" Crap. Maybe the old man had reported the incident already. Jonah nodded his head in agreement, though he seemed rather taken aback by what Riley said.

Riley laughed nervously. "Well, he came to complain to me after you got away from him. I tried to deescalate the situation before anyone else got involved, but he was really upset."

Damn it. There was no way Mr. Phelps hadn't heard about it, then. I could vividly imagine the old man angrily stomping across the lobby while accusing me of attempted murder.

"Huh? Did he complain to you? About what?" Jonah suddenly asked Riley, frowning in utter confusion "No, that makes no sense..."

"Dude... he threatened to sue me," I muttered, rolling my eyes at the mere memory.

Jonah quietly nibbled on his fingernail, staring off at the ceiling before sighing under his breath. "Wow, and here I thought he had a thing for you."

"He—what?"

Jonah was still deep in thought, but he nodded his head affirmatively. "Yeah, I was going to ask if something was going on between you two."

I stared at him in disbelief, feeling a sharp sting of mortification. I couldn't even decide whether to be more troubled by him suddenly questioning my sexuality, or the fact that he'd immediately assumed I'd go for a man about fifty years my senior if that were even the case. Which, of course, I was gay, but there was no way in hell I'd told either of them about that. Or had ever allowed them any room to assume as much.