“Don’t forget, we need our book today.” Knox taps his pencil against my locker as he waits for me.
“I didn’t forget, I just can’t find it.”
He taps the pencil louder and faster. “Ready?”
“No, I’m not ready. I can’t find my damn Greek History book.” I toss a couple of stray papers behind me as I rummage through my locker.
“Maybe if you’d clean this locker once in a while, you’d be able to find what you’re looking for.” He picks up the papers as I toss more out, stacking them neatly in a pile and grabbing all of the others that lie in the bottom.
“I’m happy you want to organize all of my stuff right now, but I need my book.” I drop my shoulders and give up. “It’s not here.” I snatch the papers from his hands and toss them back inside before closing the door.
“I’m sure you left it at home. We probably don’t even need them today. C’mon, we’re gonna be late for class.”
The halls have emptied, and Knox is moving at full speed. If there is one thing that he hates more than a bad grade, it’s being late.
“Hurry up, you heard Mrs. Tate on Monday. One more tardy and you get lunch detention.”
“Shit, you’re right.” I pick up my pace into a full-on run, sprinting past Knox.
Just as I turn the corner and the classroom is in sight, the bell rings.
I release a drawn out sigh and shake my head as Knox holds the door open for me.
“Sit down, now!” Mrs. Tate growls at two students, Jasper and Levi, who are having some sort of outburst.
I try and snake through the desks to sit down without her noticing I was late, but her eyes skim over me as I sit down.
Busted.
Levi takes a seat but continues with his banter, “That’s what your mama said.”
I’m not even sure what I’m walking into, but this isn’t good. Knox shoots up as his desk screeches across the hard floor. In the blink of an eye, he’s at Jasper’s side, as if he knew what was coming.
Jasper charges toward Levi with a death stare in his eyes.
Knox grabs ahold of him just in time, but Jasper fights to free himself. My heart is hammering in my chest.
Axel joins them and says something to Jasper that calms him slightly. At least, enough to get him to sit back down. But he’s fuming.
“Jasper, principal’s office. Now!” Mrs. Tate bellows. “And, Blakely. You get lunch detention.”
I sink back into my seat.
This is just fucking wonderful.
I slide into my seat at lunch detention with some paper and a pencil and open up the brown bagged lunch that they so graciously supply us with. One look inside at the tuna sandwich and I fold the bag back up.
The room is so quiet that you could hear a pin drop. And, now it holds the stench of tuna.
“If you’re not gonna eat that, I will.”
That voice again.
I look over and see Jasper slouching down into the seat he just took, right next to me. He could have had the decency to sit on the other side of the room.
His long legs are stretched out under the desk. He tosses his books on top and opens up his lunch bag, pulling out a carton of milk. He opens the entire top and drinks it in one swallow.
I roll my eyes and look down at my closed notebook.
There is only one other student in here. I’m pretty sure she’s a senior, but I don’t see her around much. This may be why.
The detention aide walks in quietly and sits down with a book. “Eat your lunch and find something quiet to do, kids.” She opens her romance novel and takes a seat behind her desk.
“Seriously,” Jasper whispers, “You gonna eat that?” He eyeballs my lunch while he’s already scarfing down his.
I raise a brow and roll my eyes. Then I grab the bag and toss it at him. “Enjoy.”
I’ve always wondered how men can have the appetite of a horse yet maintain the body of a Greek god. I eat one piece of cake, and my stomach bloats out like a balloon.
“Why were you late today?” He asks, as he chews up his food. It’s pretty disgusting, actually.
“I couldn’t find my textbook. Not that it’s any of your business.” I speak with my eyes down on the blank paper in front of me.
“Oh, right.” He opens up his bag that sits on the floor at his feet. “I forgot to give this to you.”
“My book. You had it this whole time?” I snatch it away and set it on the desk. “I’m in here because of this.”
“You left it behind when we went through the outline of the assignment in the cafeteria. You’re welcome.”
“You expect me to thank you?” I turn to face him. “That was three days ago.”
“I forgot.” He shrugs, “It’s just lunch detention. No big deal.”
“No big deal for you. I actually have friends here who I like to sit with at lunch.”
“Not today, sweetheart.” He takes another bite of my… his tuna sandwich, grinning as he swallows his bite.
I twist my face in displeasure, almost gagging at the smell.
He sticks the sandwich out, offering me a bite.
“Ew, no.” I retort, backing away.
He lets out a pent-up laugh.
Definitely pleased with himself.
He’s either terrible at flirting or he’s trying to get to me. I prefer the latter. He can try all he wants; I won’t give him the reaction he’s looking for.
“Lighten up Ms. Priss. It’s just food. Don’t you eat?”
I don’t even humor him with a response. I begin drawing on the blank paper.
That doesn’t mean he stops, though.
“Whatcha drawing?” He leans over.
“Will you leave me alone?” I snap, tossing my pencil down and covering my paper with the notebook that I thought I’d lost.
“Damn, stuck up much, Queen B?” He mumbles, but I hear him. Loud and clear.
I quickly gather up my stuff and glare at him as I walk over to the other side of the room, taking a seat far away from him. I’m not sure why I let this guy get to me, but he sure as hell does.
Chapter Four
Jasper
Dad pokes his head around the corner. “Jasper, I’m gonna need you in uniform and downstairs in five.”
Having your dad as the coach has its advantages. If I want any shot at a scholarship, I have to play these last couple of games. The UCLA Bruins recruiter was scouting me at LV before I got expelled. Dad is hopeful he will make an appearance before the season ends. I just hope he’s right; I need this scholarship like I need air. It’s my only shot at any kind of future. I’m not nearly as fortunate as most of the kids in this town who have trust funds and vehicles worth more than a house.
“Dad, no pictures, please. It’s ridiculous.”
“Just a couple of you and Knox before the parade. That’s all I ask. Sticks in a bundle, remember?”
“Fine,” I mutter. “But don’t expect me to smile.”
When Dad leaves, I shuffle through the boxes and pull out the picture frame of the three of us, setting it on my nightstand. Sticks in a bundle are unbreakable. It’s always been our family motto, but when one of our sticks broke, we weakened. I made a promise to myself that I’d be the glue that held this family together—the strength that Dad and I both needed. We are just fine on our own, we don’t need anyone else in our bunch. Apparently, Dad thinks otherwise. I stuff the frame back in the box and shove it away.