W
e practically sprinted across the school yard, myself stumbling behind as Clyde kept pace easily. I was positive he was doing it on purpose just to mess with me; maybe he hoped I’d give up and turn around. But no. He’d finally slipped up and let something loose. I had to follow this lead.
Once we passed the front of the school, Clyde’s pace slowed. He glanced behind his shoulder, grimacing as I quickly approached.
“God, you really aren’t gonna let that go, are you?” he asked.
I took a few deep breaths, bending over while my hand gestured toward his. “You—y-you also still have—m-my phone.”
Clyde blinked, glancing down at his tightened fist. “Oh. Right.” Hesitantly, he handed it to me, backing away slightly as I took it.
“Hey—I-I’m not the one who bites,” I panted.
Clyde visib
