Ezekiel's POV
The football field stretched out before me in darkness, empty bleachers casting long shadows under the scattered streetlights. I sat on the hood of my truck, parked a block away from the main lot like always when crowds filled the spaces. The silence should have been calming. Instead, Kane's voice kept replaying in my head.
You into fat chicks now, Enzo?
He'd said it loud enough for half the party to hear, like Ximena was some kind of punchline.
My knuckles still ached from where they'd met his jaw. I flexed my fingers, watching the bruises darken in the dim light. Most people would probably think I should feel bad about losing control like that.
I didn't.
The cold night air bit through my jacket as I stared across the field. This place usually helped me think straight. Tonight, though, the anger kept burning in my chest, refusing to die down.
