Frequencies of Us Chapter 48: Dust and a Dare

Mateo POV

I’m outside St. Mark’s again, my chest pounding hard from last night when Noah called, his voice soft saying, “Miss you,” and then texting, “I’m here.” My heart thumps fast, stuck on Caleb whispering, “She knows,” through the door, and my gut twists, shaky and hot, because he’s hiding something, something big. My sneakers kick dirt by the track, my hands sweaty, restless, because I need answers, need to see him, and my throat’s dry, mad and scared, thinking about what he’s done. My legs bounce, ready to move, ready to chase this down.

It’s dusk now, sky turning dark, and I spot Caleb by the track, his uniform dirty, his head low. My heart races loud in my ears, and my face burns, hot and tense, because he’s here, not running this time, and I need to know. I stomp over, my voice cracking loud, “What pics?” He looks up, eyes scared, and cracks, “I sold Ortiz fake cans. Lena’s got proof!” My gut sinks, heavy and fast, and my hands shake, wild and quick, because he’s admitting it, selling me out. I yell, “You set me up?” my chest heaving, air stuck, and my face burns hotter, because I’m hurt, yeah, deep down.

I shove him hard, my palms slamming his shoulders, and he stumbles, my heart slamming wild and mad. Jocks laugh from the fence, “Runner’s done!” and my gut twists, sharp and fast, because they’re loud, always loud, and I’m mad, so mad I could swing. My breath puffs, quick and rough, and my legs tense, ready to fight, because he was my teammate, my friend, and now he’s nothing. My fists clench, knuckles white, and my throat’s tight, words breaking out, because I’m betrayed, and it stings bad, real bad.

Caleb mutters, “She made me,” his voice small, shaky, and my chest aches, raw and tight, because I don’t care, he still did it. My hands shake worse, and my face burns, sweat dripping down, because I want to hit him again, want to yell more. The jocks keep laughing, voices sharp, and my gut flips, mad and lost, because it’s too much, piling up fast. I step closer, my sneakers kicking dust, and my heart races, wild and loud, because I need him to feel this, need him to know he messed up.

Then Noah climbs down from the fence, his sneakers hitting dirt, and my chest flutters, warm and fast, because he’s here, always here. He grabs my hand, soft and warm, saying, “He’s trapped,” and my gut twists, steamy and alive, because his touch calms me, pulls me back. I smirk, “We’ll break it,” my voice low, flirty and tense, and my breath mixes with his, hot and quick, because it’s us, yeah, us against this mess. My heart skips, wild and tight, and my hands squeeze his, rough and warm, because he’s mine, easing my hurt, making me steady.

We step back, my hand locked in Noah’s, and my legs wobble, restless and hot, because he’s close, so close, and my throat’s tight, needing him bad. My chest buzzes, steamy and real, and my breath puffs, loud and fast, because he’s looking at me, eyes soft, making me feel alive. I pull him behind the bleachers, my heart thumping wild, and my gut flips, flirty and raw, because I want him now, can’t wait. My hands grab his waist, fast and firm, pulling him against me, and my chest presses his, heartbeat slamming together.

I kiss him, hard and hungry, my lips crashing into his, and he kisses back, just as needy, his hands gripping my shoulders. My skin burns, every touch hot, and I push him against the bleacher wall, my body shaking as I grind into him, feeling him hard against me. My breath’s quick, warm on his lips, and I groan, low and deep, my gut clenching as he moans, soft and desperate, sending heat straight through me. My hands slide up his shirt, fingers digging into his skin, warm and smooth, and he gasps, loud in my ear, making my heart jump, wild and fast.

My lips move to his neck, sucking hard, and he tilts his head, letting me in, his hands tugging my hair. I thrust slow, my hips rocking firm, and he pushes back, steamy and wild, matching me perfect. My mouth finds his again, wet and messy, and I taste him, sharp and sweet, my head spinning fast, lost in him, lost in us. My hands drop lower, grabbing his hips, pulling him closer, and I grind harder, feeling him tremble, hot and needy. His nails rake my back, sharp and real, and I groan louder, my body shaking bad, chasing the heat, chasing him.

We’re locked together, hips slamming hard, the bleachers rattling soft. His tongue slides with mine, deep and fast, and my gut’s on fire, building tight, ready to burst. My breath’s ragged, lost in his moans, and my heart slams, loud and wild, because it’s him, driving me crazy. I press harder, my hips thrusting deep, and he moans louder, pulling me in, making me ache for more, making me feel everything. My body shakes, heat pooling low, and I kiss him deeper, tongues tangled, because it’s us, real, and nothing else matters.

A whistle blows, sharp and loud, and my heart jumps, slamming hard in my chest. I pull back, my breath heaving, my face burning red, and Noah’s eyes snap to mine, dark and wild, lips wet from me. Security’s coming, dirt kicking up close, and Caleb drops to his knees, muttering, “Ortiz paid her too,” his voice shaky, scared. My gut twists, tense and fast, because he’s spilling more, and my chest locks, air gone, because it’s big, bigger than I thought. Sofia’s text pings, “Found cans,” and my hands stay tight with Noah’s, warm and rough, because it’s us, still us, even now.

My head spins, mad and confused, and my heart thumps, loud and wild, because Caleb’s words hit hard, Ortiz and Lena tied up in this. Noah squeezes my hand, his breath fast, and my gut flips, flirty and raw, because he’s here, fighting with me. My phone buzzes again, soft in my pocket, and my hands shake, pulling it out quick, my chest fluttering, steamy and alive. It’s Sofia, short and loud: “He’s running again.” My breath catches, stuck in my throat, and I look at Noah, close and sweaty, his eyes wide, needing to know.

I squint past the bleachers, my eyes scanning the dark, and my gut twists, hot and fast, because Caleb’s bolting, his shadow slipping away. My face burns hotter, and my hands shake, gripping Noah tight, because it’s big, pulling us deeper, and my throat’s tight, words stuck, needing him to stay, needing us to chase this. A soft clink hits the ground, close and real, and my heart jumps, loud and fast. A can rolls by my sneaker, scratched and fake, kicked up from the dirt, and my chest flutters, steamy and wild, leaving me waiting, tense and shaky, with Noah’s breath warm on my neck.