Chapter 266: Malo Bets During PE Class
It was PE class, and everyone was present on the field, even Faye. The midday sun beat down on the open grass, casting short, dark shadows beneath the groups of teenagers scattered across the turf.
The students were busy exercising. It was crunches. Haley was doing hers while Faye held her legs and talked. Faye sat at Haley’s feet, her fingers locked tight around her friend’s sneakers to keep her anchored as Haley pumped her torso up and down in a steady rhythm.
Faye had been talking about what happened yesterday and that morning. She was telling Haley about Kiara challenging her, wanting her family, and how things had gone with Princess. She and her girlfriend hadn’t talked properly since last night, not even a morning kiss. The lack of that simple touch made a heavy weight sit right in the middle of Faye’s chest, making her voice sound tight as she rambled on.
"Are you listening?" Faye asked. She leaned forward, staring down at Haley as her friend came up for another rep.
"Yes, even if I don’t want to. You are not stopping," Haley replied. She gasped out the words, her face flushing pink from the effort of the workout, but she didn’t look away.
"What do you think I should do? I feel like my girlfriend is slipping away." Faye dropped her chin toward her chest, her fingers twitching against Haley’s shoes.
"Slipping away how? You said Princess told you to trust her, so trust her... and show the other woman who Princess belongs to." Haley hit the ground again, took a quick breath, and snapped right back up.
"I do that all the time," Faye said. She frowned, her mind flashing back to every single time she had walked close to Princess in public, but clearly, it hadn’t been enough to scare off the competition.
"This one time, a girl tried to get with my girlfriend. I told her Sasha was taken. She backed off from that day on. I made sure my scent was everywhere, her locker, her books, her clothes, even her perfume. They all carried my scent. I didn’t need to tell anyone she was mine because it was written all over her that she belonged to someone else. Why don’t you do the same thing? Leave your scent around Princess’s things. Create your territory." Haley finished her set and stayed down on the grass, breathing heavily as she delivered the advice.
"I’ll do that. I’m going to leave my scent all over my girlfriend. That so-called ex bitch won’t get close to her. She’ll be poisoned by my loving scent for my girl," Faye declared. A spark of pure determination replaced the worry in her chest, her jaw tightening as she nodded to herself.
Her mind was already plotting how she was going to get home and start rubbing her scent all over Princess’s game room, the kitchen, and anywhere Kiara was allowed to enter. She could picture it clearly, marking every single door frame, couch cushion, and countertop until the entire house practically shouted her name.
She wasn’t going to let an old flame steal her precious gem. The mere thought of Kiara touching what was hers made her blood run hot with a sudden wave of possessive anger.
While they were exercising, a crowd suddenly began cheering. A loud roar of voices broke out near the far end of the running track, drawing the attention of everyone nearby.
Faye and the others went to see what was happening. They abandoned their spot on the grass, jogging over to join the circle of students that was rapidly expanding near the bleachers.
It was Peamah and Henry.
Both boys were doing push-ups, counting every single one. Their bodies moved in perfect synchronization, arms bending and straightening against the hard packed dirt as sweat dripped from their noses.
The crowd was cheering and counting along with them. The rhythm of a voices chanting numbers filled the air, rising in volume with every single second.
"Wow, this is really intense," Malo muttered as he watched the boys. He squeezed through the front row of the crowd, his eyes wide as he tracked their movements. They had already passed one 100.
"When is this going to end?" a nearby student asked. The boy leaned over his knees, wiping sweat from his own forehead just from watching the display.
They were already at 250. The counting from the crowd grew faster, the energy peaking as neither of the two boys showed any signs of stopping.
"Are they even tired?" another student said. A few girls in the front row whispered to each other, completely amazed by the sheer stamina on display.
Faye snapped her fingers. The sharp sound was lost in the noise of the crowd, but she grinned confidently at her friends.
"Henry is going to win. That dude never gets tired of anything," she said. She crossed her arms, watching Henry’s smooth form.
Henry didn’t look tired at all, but Peamah was beginning to show signs of exhaustion. Peamah’s shoulders were trembling slightly, his pace slowing down by a fraction of a second as his breath came in heavy, ragged bursts.
"Really?" Malo said, an idea forming in his head. A look of pure mischief flashed across his face as his eyes darted from the boys to the surrounding crowd.
Then he grabbed someone’s hat, exposing the student’s bald head, and walked into the middle of the crowd where the boys were still doing push-ups. The bald student let out a shout of protest, but Malo was already moving too fast to care.
"Everyone! Who do you think is going to win? Place your bets! Who’s it going to be? Peamah the Hedge-Wolf or Henry the Little Kitten Wolfie?" Malo shouted. He held the stolen baseball cap upside down, waving it through the air like a collection bucket as he paraded between the two competing boys.
The competition immediately became more interesting. The crowd went wild at the sudden gamble, voices clashing as people began shouting over one another to get their names down.
Students started placing bets on Peamah because Malo was making it seem like he was winning. Malo kept pointing at Peamah’s heavy, dramatic movements, hyping up his effort to trick the crowd into thinking he had the upper hand.
Malo walked back to his friends. He slipped back into the inner circle, a massive, greedy grin stretching across his face as he shook the hat full of crumpled bills.
"Put your money down," he whispered. He held the cap out toward Faye and Sasha, his eyes gleaming with excitement.
"Are you kidding me?" Faye said because she already knew Peamah wasn’t going to make it. She stared at the hat, then looked back at Peamah, whose arms were shaking violently now.
"If Peamah wins, you know you’ll have to return everyone’s money back," Sasha pointed out. She crossed her arms, giving Malo a flat, warning look that he completely ignored.
Malo ignored them before they could ruin his business plan. He turned right back around, shaking the hat at a group of sophomores who were eagerly digging into their pockets for cash.
Peamah finally collapsed at 490 push-ups. His arms completely gave out, and he hit the dirt with a heavy groan, rolling onto his back as he gasped for air.
Henry kept going. He didn’t even pause, his arms pumping through three more perfect reps just to prove a point before smoothly standing up and wiping his brow.
"Henry won!" Malo sang out. "Which also means I won because I put my money on Henry the Wolfie!" He threw his hands in the air, clutching the cash-filled hat tightly as he did a little victory dance on the grass.
Everyone looked angry and disappointed before returning to their exercises. Groans and complaints rippled through the crowd as students realized they had just lost their money to Malo’s scam.
Malo had no idea why, but when he turned around, he found himself face-to-face with the coach. The celebration died instantly in his throat, his grin freezing on his face.
The coach stood there with his arms folded, staring at him.
Malo looked around. He scanned the immediate area, looking for an escape route or a friendly face to help him out.
Everyone was pretending not to know what was happening. The surrounding students suddenly became incredibly focused on their stretching, turning their backs to the scene.
Even his friends. Faye, Haley and Sasha had already walked several paces away.
"Griffin." The coach’s voice was low, a dangerous rumble that made the cash inside the hat rattle faintly.
"Coach." Malo offered a weak, trembling smile, swallowing hard as he slowly lowered the baseball cap to his side.
"Griffin!"
The coach’s voice boomed across the field. The shout was so loud that it caused several birds to launch out of the nearby trees, the entire field falling into absolute silence.
Moments later, Malo was running laps around the field. He had been forced to hand over the money, and now his sneakers pounded against the dirt track in a miserable, exhausting rhythm.
50 laps. The number felt like a death sentence as the hot sun continued to cook the track beneath his feet.
He kept going in circles until he finally collapsed from exhaustion. His legs completely locked up on the final turn, and he tumbled forward onto the grass, chest heaving wildly as he stayed down, swearing he would never start a betting ring again.
