“Hey,” a baritone voice said, “get off the back of my seat.”
If he’d left it at that, I could have ignored his tone. Hell, I might have even obliged.
But he slammed his body into the seat, ramming it into my head, and that’s where I drew the line.
I slowly lifted my eyes, knowing that the amount of pressure I’d put on said seat was minimal at best. The student in question was a big guy; hard to say how tall he was with him sitting, but his head nearly brushed the ceiling of the bus, even with his ass on the seat. I frowned up at him, not remembering him from the trials. A dude that big, I’d have remembered.
Which meant he was likely one of the older kids who had been bused in to take part in the graduation ceremony the night before. A Shade in training—a second, third, or maybe even fourth year. Only about fifteen of the kids on the fully packed bus were newbies, like me.
My head throbbed where he’d rammed me with the seat. More than that, he was a perfect distraction for the places my head was going, and I took hold of the opportunity with both hands and just about strangled it. Better a fight with him than to think about the night before. Or the distance between me and my friends.
“Maybe if you didn’t take up so much space, I wouldn’t be encroaching on it.” There, let’s see if he could figure out that great big word.
“I ain’t no roach,” he snapped.
Apparently not the brightest bulb. I smiled as I leaned back, stomach pangs easing off as my competitive nature flared. Staring up at him, I lifted both feet and planted them in the middle of his seat and pushed until my knees locked and the seat in front of me bowed into him. Our eyes locked, but he couldn’t hold my gaze. He whipped to his feet as the bus rocked around a corner.
Holy crap, he was even bigger than I’d realized. He couldn’t stand on the bus without bending his head forward. “You don’t want to push me, little girl. I’ll hand you back in pieces ain’t nobody going to put back together. I ain’t no first year to mess with. I’m a third year, and I could snap you like a twig.”
“Yeah, I think I do want to push you,” I drawled, pulling on my Texan roots. “I think you could use a cattle prod or two to teach you some manners, little boy.” He stepped out into the aisle and I followed him, squaring off.
Maybe it was dumb on my part. But it sure as hell was giving me the distraction I needed.
His eyes about bugged out as he flexed his oversized muscles and lunged at me, swinging one beefy fist straight at my head. To me, it looked like he was moving through molasses in February.
Which meant I had plenty of time to react to his stupidity.
I slid down to the floor, grabbed the bottom of the seat in front of me and scooted myself forward under it. His fist hit where I’d been sitting, the seat giving way with a screech of metal and faux leather as I pulled myself upright.
Yup, those were some serious guns he had. But I wasn’t the least bit worried.
Before he could turn, I stepped into the center walkway and grabbed the seat backs on either side of the aisle as anchors, lifted my knees high, and booted him in the lower back with both feet. He went flying down the aisle, landing on his knees, and his head hit the rear escape door and cracked the glass at the bottom.
“Wild, what the hell are you doing?” Rory was right behind me, but he couldn’t get around me. I was completely blocking the aisle.
“Thug here wants to play,” I said.
“Shaw, stand down. She’s new and you know the rules. No fighting till we get to the pier,” Rory said with more than a little authority to his voice.
Shaw twisted around, his face bloody from a cut on his forehead, trickles running down over his eyes like poorly done mascara. “Imma kick her right in the cun—”
I shushed him. “Shhh. Kids, there are kids in here. Watch your language, little boy.” Yeah, I wasn’t done pushing him.
Snarling, he dove forward, his reach pretty good because of his ginormous body, and his mitts big enough to wrap around both of my ankles. At the last second, he blinked. Not smart. I jumped straight up, managing to get my feet onto the tops of the seats in a straddle that impressed even me.
The other students gave me a series of ooohs. Someone actually clapped, which only made me cringe. My focus was on Dumbass.
Because his big stupid eyes were closed. I could hear my mom’s voice in my head.
No matter what, if you swing a fist you do it with your eyes open. A lot of people shut their eyes at the last second. That’ll get you in trouble, so watch yourself.
So, with his eyes shut, Shaw’s giant mitts snagged Rory’s ankles. He pulled hard, which dumped Rory onto his back with a yell. I waved at him as he whipped underneath me, being dragged toward Shaw.
I hopped down, landing lightly on the balls of my feet, now a good six or seven feet from the big guy, who was now wrestling with Rory in the tight space. “Shaw, you are really thick, man. You grabbed the boss,” I said.
“He ain’t my boss!” Shaw roared, his face twisted with anger and humiliation, and for a moment I thought he was going to shift into another form, like a bear or a wolf. Maybe he was on the wrong bus. Maybe he should have been in the House of Claw with Pete.
Before I could wonder out loud if that was indeed the case, Rory rolled upward, grabbing Shaw’s arm, and easily flipped him over. With the big kid on his belly, Rory twisted the arm until Shaw tapped the floor in submission.
“I give. I give! Don’t break my arm! I got testing this week!”
“Do not start fights,” Rory growled.
“I didn’t. She leaned against my chair,” Shaw whined. Whined.
Rory looked up at me, his eyes flashing. “Then you can both talk to the head of house when we get there.” He let Shaw go, took a step, and pointed to my previous seat at the back of the bus. “That way no one pushes on your damn seat.” Shaw slid into it, a glower on his face, blood still running freely, though he didn’t make a move to stop it. For just a second, I wondered if he was going to stick his tongue out at me.
Rory grabbed my upper arm and pointed me to the front of the bus. “You sit with me, where I can keep an eye on you.”
The rest of the kids snickered, and a few more oohed as if . . . as if what? Rory wasn’t going to punish me, and I sure as hell wasn’t afraid of the boy who’d had so many sleepovers at my house with my brother. A boy I’d scared more than once by popping out of the closet wearing Tommy’s zombie mask. A boy I’d grown up with, and whom I’d pushed into the creek more than once. A boy who’d tried to protect me in the Culling Trials. I mean, he’d broken my heart along the way by letting me think he’d died, but I’d almost forgiven him for that. Because despite everything, when it came down to the quick, I knew he had my back . . . just like I would have his if he needed me.
We were solid, no matter what came. I had to believe that.
Which made him another weakness. Someone who could be hurt because of me. Crap . . . should I be pushing him away?
Like he’d done all those years ago, leaving without ever contacting me again?
I sat in the seat next to the window, Rory sliding in beside me, my thoughts running a hundred miles a second.
“You just had to pick a fight with the biggest, dumbest Shade we have at the academy,” Rory said under his breath, a whisper that no one else would hear over the rumble of the engine in the front and the chatter of the students behind us.