“Can I cut in?” I hear. I’m still standing eyes closed, mouth open, like a horny teenager, when Liam grips me tighter. I open one eye and look over to see Hayden standing, hands in his pockets, staring at me. I grit my teeth. I’ve never wanted to knock the hell out of him more.
“No,” Liam says. “You can’t.”
I widen my eyes. Ah, shit. Hayden clenches his jaw. “Why the hell not?” he asks.
“Because, I’m dancing with my girlfriend.” Liam pushes me to the side, crossing his arms over his broad chest. “You don’t get to cut in.”
Hayden looks to me for help. Don’t look at me. As if reading my mind Liam says, “Don’t look at her. She doesn’t want to have anything to do with you. You had your chance, not tuck your tail and walk away.”
Hayden clenches his fist. “I just want to talk to her, move out of the way.” He tries to walk around Liam, but he blocks his way.
“I said no, get lost.”
“No, move. You’re just trying to get some ass anyway. You don’t care about her.” Hayden shouts, this draws a few other students’ attention.
Liam looks angry, it’s incredibly sexy. “Me? You’re the one that dumped her for slut face Holly. She’s slept with the entire school.”
Hayden’s face reddens.
This is getting good.
“Well, as long as she hasn’t slept with your nasty ass, I don’t give a damn.” Hayden turns to me. “You can do better, you look amazing by the way---,” Liam punches him.
Just punches him, right in the jaw. It all seems in slow motion. Liam chuckles, then reaches back and punches the hell out of him. Hayden falls backwards into a group of kids, dancing. They all scream, scattering like cock roaches. Hayden lays on the floor for a minute. I’m standing mouth wide open. I can’t believe he just done that.
Hayden gets up, staggering, then throws a punch at Liam. Liam ducks, missing the jab by an inch.
Liam jumps on top of Hayden, fist slinging everywhere. Hayden rolls on top of Liam; they do this for only a few seconds before the coaches come over and pull them off of each other.
“Both of you out now,” Coach Cunner yells, yanking them both toward the door. I follow, heels clicking against the floor. Liam snatches away from Coach Cunner when we get outside and stalks toward his Jeep.
I can hear Holly yelling at Hayden from across the yard. “You stupid asshole,” she yells.
You got that right.
Liam has the Jeep started before I get in. He screeches out of the school parking lot. I sit quietly for a few minutes.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
Liam doesn’t answer; he just keeps driving, hands on the wheel, face serious. I want to reach over and touch him. I want to grab his face and make him look at me, but I don’t, I just look forward.
Liam pulls up to my house. He stops, runs his fingers through his hair and then covers his face with his hands.
“I’m sorry--,” I mumble, pressing my hands together.
He laughs, without humor. “Katy-,” he starts but then trails off. “I’ll see you Monday, okay? I just need to go home. You understand that right?”
I swallow the lump that’s growing in my throat. No, not really. “Okay, um…yeah, of course, see ya then.”
I get out of his Jeep and walk to my door. It’s only ten. What a loser.
Liam screeches his tires, and flies down the road. I watch the empty street and listen to the roar of his engine disappear. I want to curl into a ball and die. I still have four hours before my curfew. Scratch that…I’m a freaking loser.
My mom is sitting in her recliner when I walk in. She glances up. When I see her face, I begin to cry. “Sweetie, what’s wrong?”
“Hayden,” I say through sobs. “I hate him. He ruined everything.”
“What happened,” she says, pulling me to her and down into her lap. “Shhh, sweetie. Tell me what happened.”
“He punched him...,” sob,” Hayden tried to cut in…,” sob,” I hate him.” I try to get my story out a little more hearable this time. Mom makes us Oreos and milk.
Mom gasps at the right places, dunks her Oreo in her milk and smiles when she needs to.
“Sounds to me like you have a good one on your hands. Beating up people for you. Always a good sign.”
I shrug and take my Oreo apart. “He won’t talk to me; he just told me he would see me Monday. He seemed so…different. You think he is mad at me?”
Mom smiles, runs her fingers through my hair. “No. Sweetie,” she coos, “give him some time. He had a hard night. Beating people up is tough business.”