But, when Michael sat down with a grunt, it pulled me back to reality again.
“I’ll be right back. We need to get you cleaned up,” I said.
Michael sighed. “I don’t plan on moving until lunch.”
I giggled as I walked into the bathroom. I fished out the first aid kit from underneath the sink, then walked back into the main room. I sat down by Michael before I opened the kit, preparing myself to clean him up. He had caked blood on his nose and a scrape just above his left eye. Not to mention the massive amount of spit he had dripping down his neck. I ripped open an alcohol wipe and gripped his chin softly. I turned his face toward me, tilting his head in order to clean him a little better.
Then I gave him a knowing smile. “For the record, I’m never going to forget that you leapt to defend Allison’s honor instead of mine.”
Michael’s eyes widened. “Rae, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean t—”
I shook my head. “It’s fine, Michael. It’s all right. I know you like her.”
He paused. “Is it that obvious?”
“Oh, yeah. Very. But she’s doing a good job hiding the fact that she likes that you went to bat for her. Against Clint, of all people.”
“You don’t think she’s upset with me?”
“Did you see the way she let you take her hand? The way she let you usher her into her own house? Come on, Michael. You’re not that dumb.”
He hissed. “That hurt. Ah.”
I shrugged. “Don’t go up against Clint again and it won’t hurt.”
“I’d do it again in a heartbeat for her, though.”
I nodded. “I know you would. Just know I see things you don’t. She feels the same way. But you know how Allison is.”
“She’s perfect the way she is.”
His words warmed my heart. “Bravo to you, by the way.”
“For what?”
I winked. “For taking on hell itself to defend your woman. We like those kinds of gestures.”
10
Clinton
I sat there during after-school detention, wrapping yet another cold washcloth around my fucking split knuckles. They hurt like hell, but they didn’t hurt as much as my pride. I wanted to beat that fucker into the ground. I wanted to split his damn face open and let people see Michael for the hoity-toity bullshit of a human being he really was. I licked my lips as I gazed out the window. My entire body hurt, if I was being honest. He put up a damn good fight, though I’d never admit it to anyone.
But Rae? She fucking threw me off him like it was nothing.
Why are you still thinking about her?
The question was a good one. And one that overtook my mind as I sat there after school in the dank, sweaty, smelly classroom. I dabbed at my knuckles, which had been bleeding on and off all day. The school nurse literally did the bare minimum needed to get me cleaned up before sending me back to class. She couldn't have given less of a shit about me if she’d actively tried. Then again, she’d cleaned up a lot of my messes over the years.
She was probably just as tired of me as I was of her.
Why the hell was Rae on my mind so much lately? I mean, she was a pain in the ass. Nothing more than that, either. She came from a shitty family. From a shitty part of town. She was nothing more than mere entertainment during these boring-ass school days. And her snark made me want to spit in her general direction. Her snarky remarks every time I said something to her got underneath my skin.
Who the hell did she think she was anyway?
While she might be the only chick in this school who didn’t turn red in the cheeks and get all tongue-tied around me, that didn’t make her special. It only made me work harder to make sure she understood she really wasn’t all that different after all. She wasn’t as strong as she thought she was. She wasn’t as ‘neat-o’ as her mother probably told her she was. In the end, she was exactly like us. Exactly like the rich bitches she snubbed her nose at every time she walked into the damn school.
I mean, we even let her walk into this school. With her ratty clothes and her on-time homework and her hard-earned money for lunch. Did she think she was better than us? Because that wasn’t the truth. Not by a longshot. She should’ve been praising us for letting her walk through those doors. She should’ve been thanking her lucky stars she didn’t get it any worse around here, coming from the part of town she did.
The fuck’s her problem?
I scoffed as I sat back in my chair. I was done wondering about her. I was done with the unanswered questions I had regarding this stupid little girl. By the time this semester was over, I’d know what her deal was. I’d know what made her tick. I’d know why she felt she could waltz around here, buck up to me, and pull me out of my own damn fights.
You fucked up this time, povo.
“Mr. Clarke?”
The teacher’s voice pulled me from my trance and I slowly looked over at him.
“Yep?”
“The nurse wants to see you one last time. Then you’re free to go.”
I snickered. “She miss me already?”
The teacher rolled his eyes. “Keep up that attitude and I’ll make you stay here another hour for shits and giggles.”
“Ah, cursing. Such a bigshot move.”
He glared at me as I stood up. I picked up my things and winked at him, then headed out the door. I unwrapped my knuckles and tossed the bloodied rag into the nearest trash can, then headed for the front doors. I sure as hell wasn’t seeing that fat-ass nurse again, nor was I going to walk anywhere near the principal’s office.
Because I had plans for my weekend.
“Not so fast, Clint.”
I paused just beyond the front doors as I held them open. The nurse’s voice caught me off-guard, and I sighed as I closed my eyes. I turned around, watching as she beckoned for me to come inside. I snickered as I moved toward her, watching her point to the front office door.
“My office. Now.”
I rolled my eyes as she took my backpack off my arm. I sauntered through the door, puffing my chest out for the receptionist still at the desk. She shook her head at me, but all it did was make me grin. If these people thought they could put a damper on my parade, they had another thing coming. I had plans with Roy this weekend. There was a massive party I was going to, whether they liked it or not.
But when I rounded the corner into the nurse’s office, I groaned.
“Seriously?” I asked.
The nurse closed the door behind us. “Seriously. Sit.”
“I’m fine, Mrs. Abernathy.”
“Get up there, or I’m calling your father to come down here and deal with you his way.”
“Pretty sure he’s on a plane somewhere else.”
She snickered. “And I’m sure telling him his son has a possible concussion would get him to turn around in a heartbeat.”
I hopped up onto the paper-covered seat and the nurse began her evaluation. She shined lights in my eyes and made me open my mouth. She checked my knuckles before covering them in this goopy substance. She wrapped them up with gauze and poked around in places an overweight married woman shouldn't have been touching on a high school student. She felt along my ribcage and squeezed my shoulders. She shoved some sort of wooden implement down my throat, causing me to gag. I smacked her hand away, watching as she leveled her eyes with me.
Then she slid her fingertips around my neck. Causing me to wince.
“And there it is,” she said.
I paused. “What?”
She sighed. “Well, you don’t have a concussion. But you’ve given yourself whiplash.”
“How the fuck did I get—”
“Language.”
I rolled my eyes. “How does one get whiplash without a car accident?”
“Whiplash is just a term for when the neck snaps back and forth too quickly. I guess when you were pushed over your bike this morning, you tensed. Right?”
I shrugged. “So?”
“When you tense, it makes it worse. You have whiplash, which means you’ll have to take it easy. No riding fast. No more fights. Because if you injure your neck further, you’ll be in the hospital with an actual concussion.”
“Sounds better than this place.”
She sighed. “All you need to do is keep it in line this year. Then you can graduate and go fight other adults on your own time. But, so long as you’re fighting on this campus you’re my responsibility.”
I chuckled. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say it sounds like you care, Mrs. Abernathy.”
“You make it hard to care, Clint. But I do.”
Her words disarmed me, and the only thing I could do was laugh. I brushed off her comment as I slipped off the paper-covered table or whatever the hell I was on. But her words stuck with me as I grabbed my backpack.
“Not too fast on that bike, Clarke!”
I grinned. “I’ll go as slow as possible. Promise!”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah.”
I finally made it out of the school and walked over to my bike. Seeing how scratched up it had become made me seethe all over again. That fucker had no right to throw me over my bike. He had no right to ruin the paint job that took me painstaking hours over the summer to perfect. I grumbled to myself as I shoved my backpack into the compartment on the back of my bike. I slipped my helmet over my head, wincing as it clamped down around my neck. I’d have to watch that. Because it definitely didn’t feel pretty.