Page 59 of Offside Attraction

Now I don’t even know where the line is anymore—between anger and something far more dangerous.

CHAPTER 13

“Hey,man.Yougood?”Tripp asks, falling into step beside me. He gives me a quick once-over, his expression curious—and a little concerned.

“Yeah, I’m good,” I reply, irritation lacing my voice as we walk toward English class.

He snorts softly. “You don’t look good. I saw you talking to Hayes. Did he say something to you? Is it about the dare?”

“I said I’m fine, Tripp,” I snap, the words harsher than I intend.

I stop short and turn to face him. To my surprise, he doesn’t look offended—just patient. Too patient.

I rake a hand through my short hair. Tripp’s gaze drops, his brow furrowing as his eyes settle on my hands.

He squints. “Your knuckles.”

I follow his stare and curse inwardly. Purple bruises bloom across my skin.

“It’s nothing,” I mutter.

“Your knuckles are bruised and you’re telling me it’s nothing?” He exhales slowly. “You wanna tell me what’s actually going on?”

The concern in his voice makes my chest tighten. I’m still not used to someone giving a shit.

Tripp means well. I’m just being a fucking asshole.

“If it’s the dare, you can just tell Hayes you’re backing down,” he adds carefully.

The dare is the last thing I’m worried about. There are way too many things spiraling in my head right now, and Hayes Griffin—unfortunately—is at the center of all of them.

“I’m fine,” I say again, more firmly this time. “You go ahead. I gotta check on something.”

I pat his shoulder and walk off before he can respond.

I don’t need to look back to know he’s confused—probably wondering what he did wrong. I’ll apologize later. Right now, I just need a fucking smoke.

IskippedEnglishclass.

Not intentionally—but anger has a way of pulling me off track. I ended up in the stairwell, smoking and stewing until time slipped through my fingers. By the time I finally make it to Calculus, I smell like bad decisions and regret. A little cologne helps, but not nearly enough.

“Mr. Miller,” Mr. Abel calls as I stop at the front of the room.

I lift my head, fully aware my expression screamsI’m not in the mood for this shit.

“Care to tell me why you’re late?”

“Not really, sir,” I reply with a tight smile.

Okay, Dakota. Apologize. Sit down. Don’t make this worse.

“I’m sorry,” I add quickly. “I wasn’t feeling well, so I stopped by the nurse’s office.”

Mr. Abel raises an eyebrow. “Is that so?”

“Yes, sir.”

He sighs. “You know I don’t tolerate lateness. Since this is your first offense, I’ll let it slide. But next time, you’ll be getting detention. Understood?”