“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.”