"Hurry up! Coach is coming back soon!"
And Spencer had cupped his mouth and shouted, "Coming!" Then he had thrown himself down on the grass beside Hadley, rolling onto his stomach and using his folded arms as a cushion for his head for a few minutes until Hadley moved to the shade. After that, he'd grown restless. 
He placed his hands on his hips and rolled his shoulders back, pushing out and expanding his chest to stretch it. "What are you looking at?" He demanded with playful confrontation, nodding his head upwards and smiling.
"What are you looking at?" He retorted, watching him steadily from the shade.
Spencer grinned, relaxed his chest and shoulders, and wandered over, sitting down beside him on the slanted bank at the edge of the field. He eyed Hadley with a vague smile, licking his lips. His eyes were quick and glittering. "Do you have any water?"
"Only from my water bottle." With a thick, dry feeling in his throat and a slightly clammy forehead, he dragged his backpack towards him. Lightly, casually, he asked, "Do you mind sharing?"
"Not if you don't," Spencer replied experimentally, his face still and his eyes flickering carefully, attentively over Hadley's face. There was a small smile threatening to spill. 
He gave his head a slight shake, reached into his backpack for the water and handed it to Spencer, who accepted it with a grateful mutter. With a ball of heat unravelling in his stomach, he watched him raise it to his lips and begin to drink, his throat moving greedily but gracefully.
Hadley knew he was staring, but he was unable to avert his gaze until Spencer was fastening the cap, brushing the side of his thumb against his lips and handing the bottle back.
"Thanks," he murmured, a half-smile playing on his lips.
Shoving the bottle back in his backpack, he watched; he watched as Spencer settled, propped up on his forearms; he watched those bright eyes flutter and close, those gentle eyelashes grazing his freshly tanned cheekbones and the blonde fringes; he watched his head loll gently back, his throat lengthened and exposed. 
When he spoke again, his mouth barely opened. His voice was low and felt like the shadow of a kiss against the neck. In his playful, attractive way, a smile in his words, he said, "I haven't seen much of you since Elodie took me away. Where've you been?"
"Nowhere," he said, and he meant it. School, home, school and home. He had tried to go on a walk yesterday evening but found that he didn't have the energy for it and stayed in his room instead, flickering through the fragments of Pessoa that he had borrowed, trying to look for an answer without knowing his question.
He saw Spencer's light brow begin to furrow. "Nowhere?"
"Around," he shrugged and couldn't stop staring. There was something so alive about him that the heat in Hadley's belly was beginning to burn his veins. He tried to erase the image he had of Elodie looking at him, watchful and curious and suspicious. He tried harder to erase the image he had of Spencer leaning down to kiss her. Both of them knotted his stomach and gave him an ugly feeling that he wanted to name, but couldn't.
"I tried to catch you after class," Spencer remarked, "but you were out of sight as soon as the bell rang. I don't know if you were in a rush to be somewhere." He paused, fluttered his eyes open and lifted his head, looking pointedly at Hadley. His green eyes were intense, and his gaze was heavy and focused. "Were you?"
"No," he said distantly, flatly. He frowned and looked away, staring at the sun-baked grass and dusty mud. Despite the coolness of the shade, the back of his neck was hot and his stomach was still twisting. He thought of Elodie meeting Spencer halfway when he leaned down to kiss her and the tenderness with which he did it.