Page 7 of Win You Over
“Shit, I’m so sorry dude.” I look up and into the blue eyes of Finn Carson. If ever there was a guy who could be the model for a stereotypical American bully, like the ones portrayed on television, it would be him. “Forgive me?” he asks, a mouth full of fake sincerity, his hand resting over his heart.
One downside to taking part in the fight nights is that they seem to have put me, and by association, Theo, on Finn and Remington’s radar. I was invisible here for an entire year before suddenly standing out to them like a sore thumb. I kept to myself, hid at the back of the classroom. No one knew my name. But then I put myself in the limelight.
When I don’t reply, Finn steps to my side, straightening his big body in an attempt to intimidate me.
“It’s impolite not to reply when someone asks you a question. Or did you never learn manners back wherever it is you came from?” He sneers at me, and I'm taken aback by how beautifully ugly he is.
“Leave him alone,” Theo demands, dropping his menu on the table.
Finn turns on him then, angling his body so he can see Theo while placing a hand on my shoulder. My body tenses, the feel of his hand on me trying to force back too many bad memories.
“This has nothing to do with you, trash boy. I was apologising to my buddy here.” He squeezes hard enough to bruise, and I dip my shoulder to release his hold.
“I’m sure you’resosorry,” Theo retorts, before lowering his voice and adding, “Dickhead.” I’m not sure if he intended for Finn to hear him or not, but the guy’s ears perk up and he raises an eyebrow before making a grab for Theo’s t-shirt.
“What the fuck did you call me?” he spits, pulling Theo closer by the fabric of his top. “I didn’t think the charity cases could afford to eat out. Shouldn’t you be saving up your money to send home to mommy in the trailer park?”
Theo’s face reddens and his eyes well up. Theo is not a fighter. He’s soft and gentle and not made for confrontation. He doesn't have thick skin he can wear like armor the way I do.
“Are you going to cry?” Finn mocks, his grip tightening until his knuckle turns white. I hate him more in this moment than I have any of the times he's aimed his wrath at me.
With his focus on Theo, Finn doesn’t notice as I stand and approach him. I grab his shoulder and try to pull him away from my friend. He’s larger than me though, stocky and solid on his feet, so my attempt barely moves him. He angles his body, so he’s facing me while still holding on to Theo.
“Let the fuck go, loser, before I punch your fucking lights out.” He snarls, using his free hand to shove me away before hisattention falls back on Theo, who is biting his bottom lip, his skin paling. I look around us – at the other patrons, at the staff – and they’re all going about their night like nothing is happening. Because that is how it works here. No one gives a shit what these pompous asses do as long as it’s not directed at them.
Rage bubbles up inside of me – years of pent up anger, of enduring other people’s attacks and of being forgotten or ignored when all I needed was someone to help me.
Teachers, the police, they all let me down time after time. It took my mum moving us across thefucking oceanfor me to even start to feel safe going back to school and it took the sum of those awful moments to teach me that the only way I will ever be safe is if I can protect myself. I’ve never hurt anyone, I’ve never wanted to, but I will protect myself and my friend if I’m forced to.
With his back to me again, Finn doesn’t notice when I close the space between us, reaching into my pocket and expertly flipping the blade of my knife open. The cool metal in my hand acts as a comfort, a reassurance that I am not weak and I don’t have to take whatever shit bullies like Finn Carson throw at me.
In this moment, all I see is red and those taunting, laughing faces from my past. As I go to pull the knife out of my pocket – not to hurt him, just to warn him, like I wish I’d been able to do when I was twelve – a large hand grips my wrist and the scent of expensive cologne hits my nostrils. The heat of another body, bigger than my own, presses to my back. My entire body tenses, my shoulders straightening and the hold on my knife turning painful.
“Don’t do it,” Remington breathes in my ear. “You and I both know you can wave goodbye to your scholarship if you hurt him. If you want a real fight, let’s step outside and I’ll make it worth your while.” His voice is warm, laced with both confident command and honeyed charm.
Anger boils my blood to a dangerous level, and I want nothing more than to tell them both to leave us the fuck alone. But there is not a chance in this world I’d get those words to pass my lips now, no matter how hard I will them to. It’s exhausting and frustrating and yet another way I’m letting my friend down.
His words ring true, though – clarity pushing through the red haze. If I hurt Finn – whose father is the town’s mayor – I can kiss goodbye to my entire life. Ihatethat he’s right. I hate so much about him.
I twist in Remington’s grip, bringing us face to face, then shake my arm until he lets go, keeping his hand close by in case I strike again – maybe this time directing my anger at him.
Flicking my knife shut while still in my pocket, I release my hold on it, then remove my hand and lift it to show Remington it’s empty. He stares at me, his eyes narrowing and his head tipping from side to side as if he’s studying me.
“Finn, leave them alone and go sit down,” Remington orders with authority, his eyes still locked on mine.
Finn mumbles something under his breath before raising his voice. “Whatever. They’re a bunch of fucking losers anyway,” Finn replies seconds before I catch him in my periphery, walking away from our table.
Neither Remington nor I move. Locked in this battle until his lips quirk up on one side and he leans in, bringing his lips close to my ear for the second time tonight.
His proximity sends a wave of heat up my neck, making my ears burn. I blow it off as the aftermath of my anger towards Finn and my irritation at facing Remington yet again. If I could reverse time, I’d go back and never step foot in that stupid ring. I’d never have taken up an invitation to fight for a prize I am yet to win. Maybe then he would never have noticed me.
“I like you,” he says, because he is so fucking oblivious to how much I feel the opposite. “You’re a little scary, but in a sexy way.Like a nerdy superhero villain. We should definitely be friends. Come, sit with us.”
No fucking chance.When I don’t so much as grunt a reply, he sighs, takes a step back, then waves his hands up and down his body. “Your loss,pretty boy.”
My jaw aches, my teeth grinding together until I feel like they’re going to shatter. Could the guy be any more conceited?
I watch Remington retreat to his table, his friends all snickering to each other while keeping their gazes on Theo and I.
