One and Done (Two Outta Three #2) (2 page)

“But—”

“Come on, let’s get to the gym. Gotta burn the burger I ate last night.” To make a point, I grabbed at my gut and shook at it the best I could, which was hard to do since I basically had no fat in that area.

“Like you have any gut to get rid of, Mr. Six-Pack. Believe me; I’ve seen it countless times…” As soon as the words left her mouth, she broke into a bright red blush. Though I wanted nothing more than to tease her about spying on me—a thought that strangely excited me—I resigned myself to grabbing her elbow and guiding her to class even though gym was the last place I wanted to be. Gym. It didn’t help that seniors didn’t usually take the class, but due to my excessive truancies and due to Rocky’s incessant need to be joined at my hip (but hey I’m not complaining), we found ourselves enrolled in fourth period physical education with Coach Lowe, the most overweight and anti-stereotypical gym coach you could possibly have. At least the school gods shined down upon us and gave us an easy A in that regard.

After a few moments of silence, I glanced over my shoulder and gazed down at her sadly. “Listen, about what Steph said…”

“Uh huh?” she prodded, undoubtedly relieved I was willing to talk about it.

I swallowed and took a deep breath. “Rocky…I…”

“Just spit it out, Jesse.”

“Okay, fine.” I stalled, trying to figure out how best to word what I was about to say. Communication of any sort wasn’t my strong suit, and after a few moments of realizing I’d piss her off no matter what, I thought, Ah, fuck it.

“Listen, Rocky, we both know that I’m meant to have a pretty messed up life, but not you. Maybe our good friend,” I used the term sparingly, “is right after all, don’t you think? Maybe you should stop trying to be something you’re obviously not and…stop following me around all the time.”

Rocky’s eyes clouded in disbelief. “I don’t believe that.”

“You don’t believe you’re not meant to have a messed up life? Or you don’t believe you’re faking the funk?” I chuckled softly.

“No! I mean I believe you deserve a good life too. Besides, I think it’s fun hanging out with you.” Her voice trailed off so I had to strain to hear. “It helps me keep an eye on you…”

“What was that?” I leaned over close, catching a whiff of her floral scent. I wanted nothing more than to stick my face into her hair and inhale the sweetness once more, but even I knew that was a bit creepy.

“Nothing,” she replied quickly, running her fingers through her hair and setting her braids free. I practically drooled at the sight of her mermaidish hair cascading down her shoulders. Fuck. I loved it when she wore it down. I always imagined myself running my fingers through it, tugging her head toward mine.

She snapped her fingers in front of my face. “Earth to Jesse. Are you there?”

I blinked sheepishly. “Um, what were you saying?”

“Never mind.” She shook her head quickly, flinging her hair like a shampoo commercial. Ugh, was she killing me. “Let’s put aside all this serious talk and just get to class before we get into trouble again.”

“What do you mean by ‘again’? We didn’t get in trouble last night.” I watched dumbfounded as Rocky pushed her way to the girl’s locker room, leaving me behind. “What the hell is her problem?”

“Move it, ass wipe!” a familiar and overly annoying voice shouted from behind me.

Before I could move a muscle, I felt myself being shoved forward, but instinctively straightened myself and threw my arm to the side, making contact with someone’s stomach.

“Oomph!”

I turned in time to see Dwight Mansfield’s huge body lurch forward in pain. Before I could grin smugly, his fist flew toward my face.

“Jesse! Jesse! Are you okay?” Her voice was like an angel calling out to me, struggling to pull me out of the abyss. Unfortunately that darkness felt good. I almost didn’t want to leave. “Jesse, wake up!”

My vision cleared and I spotted Rocky’s worried eyes peering at me. Her dark tendrils framed her olive-toned face, which made her look even more like an angel glowing in ethereal light.

“Rocky?” I attempted to lift my hand and touch her face, but something held my fingers back. I struggled against the hold, feeling as if my muscles would snap at any minute. It took a while before I realized it was my own body pinning my arm against the floor. That’s when it all came flooding back to me. I was punched—embarrassingly enough—and knocked out. Apparently, I also landed in a very ungraceful position. Oh well, at least it prevented me from caressing Rocky in my delusional stupor. Once I crossed that bridge there was no turning back.

“Everyone out of the way!” Our plump school nurse, Miss Lance, stomped through the growing crowd before abruptly kneeling beside my face. I could have sworn I felt the earth move from the sudden impact. “Mr. Tyler, how you feeling?” I must have moaned some sort of response, because soon she responded, “Good. Let’s get you to my office now.”

“Are you sure you should move him?” Rocky asked doubtfully. “I’ve seen some of those shows on TV, and they make sure to have a brace around the victim’s neck or something.”

Victim? Wow! I was pathetic.

“I’m a health professional, aren’t I? I think I know what I’m doing, Miss Rossi.” With that, our hefty nurse tugged at my arm and before I knew it I was upright, trying my hardest not to wobble forward. To make matters worse, Nurse Lance smacked me on the back and laughed. “Looks like there won’t be any P.E. for you today, kid.”

“What?” Rocky gasped. “Are you sure I can’t go with him? I hate gym enough with him there.”

“No can do, kiddo.”

“Rocky,” I whispered, tugging at her shoulder. I weaved back and forth a little bit, but tried to remain firm.

Her wide eyes examined me carefully. “Are you sure you’re okay?” She eyed Nurse Lance, who was busy chatting with another student, and clucked, “I don’t have much faith in our hero over here. I can take you to the hospital if you want.”

“Don’t worry about me.” Even as I said those words, the walls felt as if they were closing in on me. Fighting impending nausea, I croaked, “I know this sounds weird, but don’t let Dwight bother you today.”

“He wouldn’t hit a girl.” All humor quickly washed off her face. “At least I don’t think so…”

“That’s not what I meant.” It wasn’t the time or the place to explain that Dwight had obviously had a boner for her since sophomore year. I’d rather peel my toenails off than stand back and watch her get with a Neanderthal who didn’t deserve the time of day. I shifted slightly, trying to remain balanced. “Just watch it, okay? If he bothers you, tell me.”

“So you can get punched again?” She huffed.

I snorted. “He took the pussy way out. He punched me when I wasn’t looking. Trust me; he won’t get a single shot again, and he’ll definitely see me coming.”

“Mr. Tyler!” Nurse Lance gasped, suddenly giving me her undivided attention. “I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that.”

I nodded. “You do that.” Turning back to Rocky, my jaw hardened. “Seriously, tell me.”

Her eyebrows furrowed. “Um, okay. I still think you’re being ridiculous.”

“I’m not. See you at lunch.”

***

“Hey, if it isn’t Mr. Knuckles.” Stephanie’s ear-piercing voice screeched above the cafeteria’s normal bustle.

Rolling my eyes, I plopped down next to Rocky and rubbed at my nose, which popped from the pressure. “Remind me to send the school board a complaint.”

“About what?” Rocky propped her tiny chin onto her hand and tilted her head. Before I could help myself, I imagined what it would be like to tilt my head in the opposite direction and place a tiny kiss on those plump lips of hers.

Blinking quickly, I cleared my throat. “About how bad Lance is at her job. Seriously, I thought all nurses were supposed to have some medical training. She practically accused a girl of faking a sprained ankle while I was there.”

“Well, maybe she was,” Stephanie replied, popping a chip into her mouth and chewing loudly.

“Her ankle was swelling and turning blue by the minute. No way she could fake that.”

Stephanie rolled her eyes and shrugged.

“Anyway, I wouldn’t doubt that she made my concussion worse.” Suddenly feeling hot, I peeled off my leather jacket, fully aware that Rocky was watching my every move.

When we caught eyes, Rocky quickly looked away and jumped to her feet. “If you have a concussion, we need to get you to the hospital. Why are we still sitting here?”

“Oh for God’s sake, sit down, Rocky.” Stephanie yanked at Rocky’s shirt, which did nothing but reveal her cleavage. The edge of Rocky’s polka-dotted bra peeked out, causing my mind to travel to very inappropriate places. Stephanie eyed me suspiciously and let go of the cloth. “Trust me, he doesn’t have a concussion. You can relax.”

“How can you tell?” Rocky asked doubtfully.

Still gazing at me knowingly, she replied, “Is he vomiting?”

“Um…”

Stephanie rolled her eyes. “Jesse, have you thrown up?”

“Nope.” I shook my head.

“Are you dizzy?”

“Nope.”

“Well, there you go.” She clapped her hands together.

Still looking unconvinced, Rocky stared at me as if giving me a silent medical exam. I both liked and hated how it made me feel to have her eyes roaming all over my body. I could almost feel her touching my skin. If I wasn’t careful, I’d blow a load right in the middle of the cafeteria. Shuddering, I changed the subject. “So did the Neanderthal bother you during class?”

“Neanderthal?” Stephanie leaned over in interest, stretching her giraffe-like neck toward me. “Who are we talking about?”

“No one,” Rocky said quickly.

A bit too quickly.

“Rocky,” I said warningly. “You can tell me. I told you to tell me. And Steph, stop straining. I can see the vein popping out in your neck.”

“Ha, ha.”

Rocky’s shoulders slumped forward. “Fine, if you must know, Dwight did talk to me in class, but it wasn’t about anything bad, I promise! That’s why I wasn’t going to tell you.”

My vision began to tinge in red. “So what did you talk about?”

“He…” Rocky glanced at Stephanie with uncertainty, which only caused Stephanie’s curious smile to widen. “He asked me out.”

There was a moment of silence before Stephanie burst into laughter. She slapped her denim-clad thighs and struggled to catch her breath. “Wait, are we speaking about the same Dwight Mansfield who just sucker punched Jesse to the ground?”

“Hey!” I protested.

“The muscular, blond-haired, blue-eyed Chris Evans look-a-like? Wow…Rocky, I’m impressed. Please tell me you said yes.” Stephanie’s hands were clasped together so tightly that the edges turned white. “Good God, I’d say yes.”

Wow, way to support me, dear friend.

Rocky shot her a look, and for a few seconds the two stared quietly at one another, almost as if exchanging telepathic messages. After a few moments of silence, Rocky shook her head quickly. “How can I go out with a guy who purposely hurt my friend? That’s…that’s…”

“A good decision.” My lips pressed firmly together. Slapping the top of the table loudly, I pushed myself off the tiny blue disk that was attached to the floor as a poor excuse for a seat and jumped to my feet. “I’ll be back.”

“Jesse, where are you going?” Rocky demanded.

“I’ll be right back,” I repeated firmly, sidestepping a wandering freshman.

“Why’d you even tell him about that?” I heard Stephanie hiss.

“I couldn’t lie,” Rocky replied with a shocked tone.

“No, you wanted to see if he’d get jealous,” Stephanie replied confidently.

“Ridiculous, he’d never be jealous over me. He’s just overprotective.”

“Whatever you say…”

I quickly disappeared into the cafeteria crowd before I could turn around and tell Rocky that she was wrong. I was jealous. Jealous that Dwight had the balls, not to mention the freedom, to do what I always wanted to do. I’d just have to take that jealousy and turn it into productive energy.

Chapter 2

“Fight! Fight! Fight!”

The rumbling of the crowd egged me on. I swung once and reveled in the feeling of Dwight’s cheek against my fist. I could have sworn his skin even molded against the bones of my knuckles, wrapping itself around each crevice. Yup, it was definitely going to leave an imprint on his face. I branded that motherfucking bastard.

“Break it up, break it up!” Our vice principal, Mr. Elliott, rushed forward, toupee flapping in the wind. He reached down and grabbed us each by our biceps. Despite being such a gangly looking fellow, our vice principal was actually pretty strong and easily ripped Dwight and I apart. A bead of sweat rolled down his wrinkled forehead, and his breaths came out staggered, as if the adrenaline was too much for his lanky body to take. “What is going on here?”

“Oh, you know, just bonding.” I took a step back and yanked at my cotton shirt, which clung to my sweaty body. I smirked when I spotted Dwight wiping away a drop of blood that had leaked out of his nose. As hard as I tried, I couldn’t help but grin at his pathetic state.

Mr. Elliott wasn’t as amused. “Tyler—office, now.”

My mouth dropped open. “What about him? That jerk—”

“Does not have a record, and you do. I don’t think I’m going out on a limb by assuming you started this fight, no?”

“Circumstantial evidence and profiling.”

The triumphant look on Dwight’s face made my fist twitch, desperate to punch him once more. Luckily, Mr. Elliott spoke up, distracting me. “Mr. Mansfield, you’re not getting off that easy.”

His eyes widened, showing a level of fear that made my already non-existent respect for the boy plummet even more. “What? Why? You just said this was Jesse’s fault.”

“He may have started it, but you surely partook in it.”

“Well, I’m not going to sit around and allow myself to get punched in the face!”

The thing about Mr. Elliott is that he didn’t take shit from anybody. As he eyed Dwight, a calculating look brushed over his eyes, causing our star receiver to visibly cower. “That may be so, but I’m still giving you detention after school.”

“That’s football practice!” He was practically whining. I loved every second of it.

“You should have thought about that before.” Pursing his lips, he turned to me. “Now you…”

“Yes?” I asked, failing to look innocent.

“Office. Now.”

***

Mr. Elliot’s office was like a second home to me. I leaned into the cushioned seat, which was placed right across from his desk, and sighed. I had sat in that chair so many times before that I was pretty sure the outline of my body was permanently imprinted onto it. Tapping my hand against the cherry wood armrest, I gazed around the office and took in the sight of various trophies, awards and diplomas—things I was sure I’d never get. At least not in this lifetime.

“Jesse, Jesse, Jesse.” Mr. Elliott dropped a giant sized file onto his desk. It was stained with coffee and dog-eared with a number of different colored papers sticking out from inside. The folder had definitely seen better days.

“I take it that’s not a homecoming present for me?” I quipped.

He narrowed his eyes. “I find it funny that you think you’re allowed to attend homecoming this year. You’re lucky you’re still even allowed to go to this school.”

I suppressed the urge to roll my eyes. “Oh, boo hoo. I was just kidding. I don’t care about that crap. When have I ever gone to a school dance? Trust me, not my cup of tea.”

Mr. Elliott pushed aside my file and clasped his bony fingers together. “Mr. Tyler, let’s talk.”

“Thought we already were,” I murmured, keeping my eyes down.

“It’s been my experience that children—”

“I’m almost eighteen,” I snapped in annoyance.

“Children are those who act with a certain level of immaturity and, I’m sorry to say, that’s you.”

I snorted.

“As I was saying, in my experience children,” he looked at me pointedly, “who usually act out are those who are suffering in their home lives.”

I shifted uncomfortably and shielded my eyes.

Mr. Elliott cleared his throat. “As you know, we have great resources here at school. I know at your age it may seem embarrassing to ask for help, but—”

I cleared my throat and folded my arms tightly around my chest. “I don’t need any help.”

The corners of his mouth turned down slightly. “We have a staff of great counselors who can help you turn that restless energy into something productive. You don’t need to go down this path of destruction.”

Productive as in smashing Dwight’s face in again.

“Listen, Mr. Elliott, I have no problems. I really have no idea what you’re talking about.” It was a blatant lie. We both knew it. Everyone in Bethel Falls High knew it. How else can you explain my clothes reeking of alcohol—not all me, I promise—and anger issues? Sure, some girls loved that whole ‘broken rebel’ thing I had going on, but honestly I would give anything to be normal. Just a regular schmoe—another Dwight…well, maybe not him. He’s a douche.

“I see…” Mr. Elliott’s voice trailed off and his eyes lifted, meeting mine. There was definitely pity in them, which I hated more than anything else. I’d take furious yelling over pity any day. He tapped his fingers against the desk and sighed. “As much as it pains me to say this, I’ll give you one last chance.”

I lifted my eyebrows in surprise. “What do you mean?”

“You screw this up and you’re out,” he clarified.

“Of homecoming?” I was skating on thin ice and I knew it, but nothing was more hilarious to me than the thought that I’d care about some bullshit dance.

His eyes narrowed. “Of this school, Mr. Tyler.”

I licked my lips and tried my hardest to maintain a straight face. As much as I hated school, there was no way I could get kicked out. Where would I go? What would I do? It wasn’t as if Daddy Dearest would take me in with open arms, and I sure as hell didn’t want to spend 24/7 with my mother.

“Okay…so, what do I have to do to stay in?”

“For you not to get into any more trouble!” He threw his hands in the air as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

No guarantees.

“Whatever.”

“That’s not all,” he interjected.

I let my head fall back and silently groaned. “I knew it was too good to be true.”

“I want you to volunteer for a school activity.”

“Wait, what?” I grasped the armrests and leaned forward. “I must have heard you wrong, because it sounded as if you want me to partake in extracurriculars.”

He shook his head in exasperation. “I think the only way you’ll learn to respect this institution is by promising some of your time and effort toward it. Seeing as your grades are surprisingly satisfactory—”

“What, do you really think I’m that dumb?” I snapped in annoyance.

His jaw clenched. “Don’t make me regret giving you this chance, Mr. Tyler.”

I pressed my lips together and looked away. Expulsion suddenly didn’t seem so bad.

He took a deep breath and ground out, “I’m sure you need some other stimulus to make sure you keep your idle hands busy and out of trouble. I think working with the school will be good for you. Teach you some responsibility.”

“There’s really no getting out of this, is there?” I asked hesitantly.

He shook his head. “I suggest you start looking for clubs to sign up for. They’re filling up quickly.”

“Surprisingly,” I murmured. This fucking sucked. Not only would I have to endure school during its regular hours, but I’d actually need to stay afterwards? So fucking lame.

Looking entirely too pleased with himself, Mr. Elliott scribbled some notes into my file and slammed it shut. “Do this right, and I may consider letting you go to homecoming after all.”

“I thought we’d already established that I think school dances are wack.”

“Good luck.” With that, Mr. Elliott diverted his attention to his computer, making it obvious he was done with me.

With a shake of my head, I stood up and walked out the door.

***

“Volunteer? School club?” Stephanie burst out laughing, flashing those ugly braces once again.

I narrowed my eyes, waiting for her to calm down, but after about a full minute of snorting, hysterical cackling, and tearing eyes, I turned to Rocky and sighed. “This is bullshit.”

“Well, you got off easy,” she shot back, surprising me.

“What do you mean?”

“Why start the fight with Dwight to begin with? That was beyond stupid.”

Because he asked you out? We both know the answer to that. Come on, Rocky.

I growled. “It’s because he’s been trying to get under my skin since freshman year. From the swirlies and wet willies of ninth grade to the face punches and name calling of senior year. I can’t take it anymore, Rocky. I just can’t.”

Stephanie finally quieted down, prompting Rocky and I to look over at her in annoyance. Wiping tears from her eyes, she asked, “So what club are you looking into? French? Debate? Ooh, how about water polo? I’m sure those banana hammocks would look really cute on your little willy. Oh, wait, it’s not so little, is it? I’ve heard stories.”

“Shut up, dipshit,” I muttered.

“What about if you join Art Club?” Rocky piped up. Her cheeks looked flushed, and I couldn’t help but wonder if she was getting sick.

“I doubt my knowledge in graffiti and vandalizing counts as art, Rocky. Thanks for the thought, though.” I laughed.

“I’m serious. We’re always looking for models.”

Stephanie jabbed Rocky in the ribs. “Ah, you just want him to pose naked so you can see his willy for yourself.”

Rocky and I both wore identical masks of horror. I glanced over with a sneer. “Didn’t I tell you to shut it?”

To my surprise, Stephanie didn’t have a smart comeback. She merely shrugged. “Just trying to make you feel better.”

“Well, you’re not.” Feeling an overwhelming need to ease the sudden tension, I blurted out, “You know what? Maybe I will take art. Won’t be too bad, considering I have a friend in there.”

Rocky flashed me a weird look. “Well, we have a meeting after school if you want to go with me.”

“I don’t really have a choice.” I sighed.

“Okay, friend. I’ll see you then.”

Stephanie snorted silently with a shake of her head.

***

My knee bounced up and down, causing the wooden table to shake. Rocky’s hand shot out and pressed down on my thigh. “Stop it.”

“I can’t help it,” I hissed. “I move around when I’m restless…and when I want to run away.”

Her eyes twinkled as the left corner of her mouth lifted up in amusement. “Could it be that you’re nervous?”

“Nervous? Nah, I’m never nervous.” I glanced around and wiped my sweaty palms against my jeans.

“Really? Because you’re not doing a very good job of hiding it.” She giggled quietly and looked around the classroom. “I promise there’s nothing here to be worried about. Besides, I’m here with you. You’ll be fine.” She paused. “And I promise you won’t have to strip.”

I blushed and quickly looked away. As I gazed around the classroom, I quickly realized I didn’t recognize about half the students who filled the room. I spotted a group of bougie looking art kids staring back at me as if I were some wild animal that had just been let out of its cage.

“I don’t get people sometimes,” I growled under my breath.

“What was that?” Rocky asked, busying herself by sharpening a stick of charcoal.

“Nothing. Forget about it.” I shook my head and diverted my attention on the cracks of my plastic binder. I ran my hands over the sharp slivers of blue and sighed. Those bougie kids wouldn’t know one thing about having to reuse the same school supplies every single year. They wouldn’t know how it felt to duct tape the cardboard backing or find new screws for the metallic clasps. I was like a savage to them. I couldn’t really fault them for staring.

Just as I was tempted to get up and leave, a petite young woman with bright corn-colored hair walked into the room. Her ivory skin almost glittered under the fluorescent lights. Had it not been for the quirky, cartoonish smile on her face, she would have been pretty hot. She had that sexy librarian thing going on—complete with black rimmed glasses, which sat primly on her freckled ski jump nose.

Rocky glanced at me and narrowed her eyes. “Are you checking her out?”

I shrugged, but didn’t say a word.

“That’s Miss McMillan. She’s the new art instructor,” she explained to me as if I cared.

My eyes widened in surprise. She couldn’t have been more than twenty-three years old, and so not what I pictured an art teacher to look like. “Well, this class just got more interesting.”