Page 1 of Michael

Prologue

“Fight, fight, fight!” the crowd of boys and girls chanted as Michael and Ben confronted the sea of faces with their backs pressed against each other.

“You just had to say something,” Ben, Michael’s fraternal twin brother muttered under his breath.

“Not my fault the kids at this school have no chill or can’t take a joke!” Michael shouted loudly enough for their audience to hear, putting his hands up when one of the boys in the surrounding circle jerked forward but didn’t make a real move. This made the boys laugh at his expense.

Michael and Ben were the new kids at a mixed co-ed private school, and on their first day, they ended up stepping on some toes...or at least, Michael did. Once again. His uncontrollable mouth and love of a good practical joke had gotten them into trouble on numerous occasions, and his brother was usually the casualty; guilty by association just because he was related to Michael.

Ben stiffened behind him. “Here they come!” he shouted, his voice breaking slightly.

They were suddenly rushed from all sides by boys aged 12 to 15.

Michael took a swing at one of the boys with curly red hair that got close really quick before the others could catch up to swarm him. He hit the boy in the eye, stopping him in his tracks before turning slightly and throwing a punch at someone coming in from the other side.

They fought a good fight, but eventually, Ben was taken down and pinned on the ground by several boys.

“Let’s see you make fun of me now, with a mouth full of my fists.” Michael raised a taunting eyebrow, even though his face and body were on fire from all the blows he had taken. He closed his eyes to take a punch from the meaty hand of the sandy haired boy, Peter.

During a break touring the school, Ben and Michael had come across some older boys hanging outside near the tracks. Michael cracked a joke after hearing how the boy couldn’t stop talking about how popular he was, bragging about his position playing football and how influential his parents were. He had been trying to impress the new kids, but things went sour when Peter announced he was king at the school and that both Michael and Ben needed to do as he told them and join his group.

Michael then pointed out that, from the sounds of it, Peter was only going to be good for one thing in life—and that was a dried-up wide receiver, as his parents’ money wouldn’t help him to be anything else, and that he—Michael—would rather watch paint dry than having to listen to Peter drone on about himself any longer.

Now Michael was going to pay the price for his words, but he didn’t regret it. Peter is dumb and full of shit, he figured.

He felt a breeze on his cheek and then flesh connecting with flesh before he heard an angry bellow, and his shirt was released.

He popped open one eye to see Peter holding his mouth, his face growing red from embarrassment. “But Am, he made fun of me and my parents.”

Michael raised a finger. “Technically just you, not your parents,” he said sarcastically.

“Shut up Michael,” he heard his brother grumble angrily. He turned slightly to see Ben being helped up by an older and very beautiful dark-skinned teenage girl. Her look reeked of money. Her hair was done in curls with nothing out of place, her makeup emphasizing her beauty, her nails done in a French manicure, her uniform pressed and wrinkle-free. While most of the children wore comfortable loafers or flats, she was in high heels.

She was carrying one of those twirling batons, and he guessed she had used it on the boys that had pinned Ben down. He could see them scowling at her and rubbing the parts that she had hit. She had to be a cheerleader and very popular at the school because no one had made a move against her. Michael smirked and turned when he heard a husky voice say, “I do not care; you know I hate bullying of any kind, and it wasn’t a fair fight with half the football team beating the newbies up.” Michael had forgotten about the person who had just thrown a punch in his defence until she spoke up.

His first impression was that it was a boy based on the way they were dressed: baggy black pants, a white cotton button-up shirt with sneakers, and their hair in tight medium-length cornrows. But for a boy, he had amazing long lashes. That’s when, to Micheal’s surprise, he noticed the outline of small breasts. He moved closer to inspect what he thought he saw.

Dark-brown eyes frowned with a look that said watch it, and he realized it was another black girl with the same complexion as the cheerleader. The girl was of the same height and age as him, standing there with her feet spread apart and her hands in fist.

She shifted and turned to glare at one of the boys who moved slightly, her eyes holding a threatening look in them, like she was ready to pop one off again if anyone made a move.

“It’s over now Peter, you got your licks in from the look of him and his brother.” Her eyes shifted to Ben, her brown gaze running over his form before flicking back to gaze into Michael’s silver eyes with a look of concern.

“But Ambra,” Peter whined.

Ambra merely tightened her lips and stared at Peter until he scowled and then looked at his friends, nodding for them to follow him as he turned to walk away.

Michael straightened up and stood there trying to look nonchalant, like nothing affected him and he wasn’t about to pass out from the pummelling he had just received. He didn’t want to look weak in front of the girl who had just helped him out—or her sister.

They turned to watch the crowd of young boys and girls disperse, and then he felt a rough material gently wipe at his lips. It hurt like hell. He flinched and turned to see Ambra now standing close to him.

“Your lip is bleeding,” she explained when he lifted his eyebrows.

“Thank you.” He gently removed her hand from his mouth and used the back of his own to wipe away the rest before turning to look at his brother, who looked a mess. He had grass in his hair and bruises on his jaw and eye, but his silver gaze, like Michael’s own, was focused on the other girl in fascination.

“I’m Ambra, and that is my older sister Diamond.”

“Yeah, I know. I heard your name when Peter said it,” he snapped, his lip now throbbing in sync with the rest of him. He was embarrassed by the fact that a stranger—and a girl at that—was who had ended the fight and saved both him and his brother from the beating of their life.

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