Witch & Wizard 04 - The Kiss by James Patterson Read Free Book Online

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    He looks up into the stands and I wave tentatively at him. Heath pumps his helmet in the air a few times, then cups his hands to yell something.
    I freeze. He’s saying my name. Screaming it like it’s some sort of tribute.
    His dark hair falls back from his face in disheveled waves, shiny with sweat, and the flush of exercise is still in his cheeks. He’s smiling at me in the sly way that makes me feel that scary spark. I look at all the girls drooling at the sight of him and I can’t believe it’s me he wants.
    But I can sense Mrs. Highsmith’s tight-lipped smile on me, too, and my parents’ confusion, and I feel suddenly embarrassed. Then I see Byron and Whit across the field, looking at us, and I feel…
    Well, like a traitor.

Chapter 11
    Whit
    WELL, that WAS a new experience. I sit on one of the sideline benches in a fog, still kind of in awe. Where did that guy even come from?
    Byron sits down next to me. “Hey, Whit. Rough game today, huh?”
    I shake my head. “Not sure what happened out there.”
    “You’ll like this better—I promise.” He plops a manila file into my lap.
    “Yeah, sure, Byron.” I toss the folder aside as I pull off the heavy padding. I’ve just lost the biggest game of my life, and this is his idea of empathizing?
    “You’ll find it interesting, no doubt.” Byron glances toward the bleachers. “It’s an investigative file on that guy Wisty’s—” He sits up suddenly. “No. Oh, no.”
    I follow Byron’s gaze toward my family, coming down the stands toward me, and when I see them together, my heart breaks a little, too.
    Of course , it had to be Heath under that helmet.
    “He’s New Order, Whit,” Byron says, looking devastated.
    “What? Like, currently ?”
    “It’s all in the file,” he says, walking toward the bleachers. “I gotta tell her.”
    But Wisty’s making a sudden left turn away from me. “Wist!” I yell after her, but she doesn’t stop. Every time this guy shows up, doing his swagger routine, she’s weird and upset for hours afterward. And now he’s N.O. I open the file. Or former N.O.?
    I’m putting a stop to this right now.
    “Hey, Demon!” I yell across the field toward the guy who’s still reveling in victory with his teammates.
    Heath turns and grins at my choice of address, and I signal him over.
    “Hey, man, good game,” he says in this superfriendly tone. I look down at Heath’s offer to shake hands and back up at his face.
    That’s not going to happen.
    Instead, I reach for my gear—pads and bands and guards—and start shoveling it into my gym bag.
    “You’re really not going to shake my hand?” He manages to look wounded, enjoying himself in front of the onlookers around us. “You can’t respect a guy for playing well?”
    “I respect your game.” That’s definitely the truth. I actually feel a weird sense of relief now that I don’t have to maintain that perfect record. “We both know you played way better than well. You wiped the field with me.”
    Heath smiles. “Humble, aren’t we?”
    I shrug. “There’s always going to be someone better out there.”
    “Wanna bet?” Then he really smiles, all shark’s bite, and a tuft of jet-black hair falls over his forehead.
    “Humble, aren’t we?” I counter, sitting on the bench to lace up my shoes.
    “I could’ve killed you out there today. What’s there to be humble about?”
    “I’m glad you didn’t.” I look up at him, not sure if it’s a threat. “This isn’t about the game.”
    He grins, amused, and I fix him with a level look.
    “Why are you still talking to Wisty?”
    He laughs, so sure of himself. So certain life is all a joke. “O- ho . Another big brother chat. Maybe you should ask her why she’s still talking to me .”
    I clench my teeth together.
    “I know who you are.” I stare at him, detecting the slightest falter in his gaze, like a shadow crossing as ice blue darkens to steel.
    But when he leans toward me, he’s all confidence.