A satisfying crack reverberates through the corridor and he cradles his bleeding nose. I wince as my hand aches more from that punch than it should've.
And no, I didn't punch Joan. I wish.
"Fuck around with my sister again, I'll break every fucking bone in your body," I sneer at the pathetic junior as his eyes widen, fearfully.
"You're lucky I didn't get my friend Owen Carlos Fernandez to give you a punch," I say as his eyes go wide the side of saucers.
"C-C-Carlos." He stammers with his body physically shaking.
Owen smirks and cracks his knuckles, "the one and only."
"Get the fuck out of my face," I kick his side and he scrambles up, fleeing the scene.
"You're safe. No one saw it," Owen informs me and throws me a cold water bottle. The cool bottle comforts my throbbing hand and I release a breath.
"Although, Mr Trallis was on his way here," my eyes widen at the sound of the vice principal's name. If he saw me get into another fight, that's a straight suspension and I wouldn't be able to graduate, with my track record.
"Luckily," Owen stretches the syllables, "your precious blondie was able to distract him once she saw what was happening."
"Thank you," I release a breath and I catch Owen's smirk.
"You're so whipped," he shakes his head.
"No, I'm not." I roll my eyes at him and we start walking out of school.
"I don't blame you, she's the hottest girl in whole fucking school and the captain of the cheerleading squad. I'd definitely fuck her if I got the chance." I stop in my tracks at the distasteful words that he dared utter.
My jaw clenches. I squeeze the water bottle in my hand that it's on the verge of bursting. "What the fuck did you say?" I try to maintain my composure before it erupts.
"Relax, she's like a sister to me. I just wanted to see how you'd react and," he drags out the last letter, "you're clearly fucking whipped," the first sentence calms me. But, I remain silent and carry on walking.
"Come on, Preston. The nickname. The constant annoying her. The long glances. Just admit it, you have feelings for her," he stops in front of me and prods his finger into my chest at the last words. I keep silent and walk to my car.
I shake my head at his nonsense and I'm stuck with him moaning inappropriate, sexual comments about me and her, the whole way home.
•••
"Get ready, we're going out," I say when the door opens and I see her standing there in nothing but her pyjamas.
"I still haven't forgiven you," she crosses her arms and raises her arched eyebrow at me.
Expecting her reaction, I pull out the bouquet of carnations, irises and orchids, each a spot of different colour linking to the other. Her ocean eyes run over them and I observe for her reaction. The features within her face do not give anything away.
"You're going to have to do better than a bouquet of flowers," she scoffs but I sense admiration within her eyes. On any other occasion, she would've accepted these but I know this time I fucked up bad.
"Avery. I'm so sorry. You know I didn't mean anything that I said. I don't think you're a worthless airhead. If anything you're the smartest girl I've met in my entire life-"
"It's okay."
"...I swear I didn't mean to say it. They just slipped out. And now I feel so fucking bad. I'm such a fucking idiot I just-"
"Preston!" She calls and I stop my rambling. "It's okay." The ends of her lips twitch up a little.
"Are you sure?"
"It's no biggie. Just a stereotypical, dumb blonde girl." She sarcastically raises her eyebrows and rolls her eyes.
I do feel for her. She gets judged a lot.
"You're not dumb." I reassure her.
"Thank you," she holds her arms out and I lean down towards her. They wrap around my neck so I wrap mine around her waist, the comforting contact of her bare skin warming mine.
The strain in my neck makes me realise the height difference between us. She must be at least 5'3 without her boots on and I'm 6 foot.
When she pulls apart, I chuckle," you are so fucking short."
"Hey, I'm not that short. There's like what," she ponders for a while, "two inches between us."
My laughter echoes throughout the marble interior of her empty house. "It is not two inches, more like eight."
She rolls her beautiful eyes and mumbles, "two times four."
"Hurry up and get dressed. There's a new game in the arcade and there's no one else free to go try it with me."
"Oh wait!" I call when she's halfway up the stairs. "I need a bandage." She instructs me where to find them and then disappears upstairs as I dress my hand.
Once I'm done, I lay on the couch. My eyes close leaving my mind to wander within its darkest depths. The darkness, slowly, consuming me again.
Time passes when I'm shaken slightly and I crack one eye open. She wears a black crop top with blue denim shorts. Her golden hair is tied into a low ponytail which falls onto a black and white plaid shirt.
I force my eyes away from ogling her bare legs as I need to be able to control myself.
I get off the couch and walk outside, her following behind me. I'm near my car when she asks, "are you okay?"
My body turns to see her leaning on the black railing of the veranda, her ocean eyes full of concern. "Nice to know you care, blondie," I smirk.
She pulls her bottom lip between her teeth and I ball my hands into fists. "You left your keys inside, dumbass." My car keys dangling from her finger.
"I'm deeply appreciative of your observant characteristic, now if you excuse me, madam, and kindly step into the vehicle so we can embark on this intriguing journey," I bow down in a chivalrous manner and I feel something hit my head with a jingle.
"This gentlemanly act is not for you," she laughs, sending the butterflies flying, and walks down the steps.
"Ouch, I'll be sure to continue with it then to further annoy you," I open the door for her and she rolls her eyes before getting in.
"I saw a prescription for Lexapro with your name on it," I feel her freeze in her seat next to me.
Awkwardly, she chuckles. "You already have a bitch. The last thing you need is one with uncontrollable anxiety."
I stop at a light and turn to her. The car is silent and I hear the faint thudding of something. Her leg bobs up and down, continuously as she keeps her eyes forward.
"Avery," she hums, "your leg." Instantly, she places her hand over it to keep it still.
•••
"That's not fair. I steered right but the car went left," I justify my reason for my failed victory.
"Preston. Admit it. You lost," I observe the way her lips move, slowly, in the emphasis of the words she's speaking. My gaze redirects to hers and a slight drop in my stomach occurs when she's already looking.
"I let you win."
She laughs, shaking her head, "sore loser."
The whirring of a machine is heard and a ticket releases from the slot. I try to pull out more but it doesn't work so I hand the ticket to Avery.
"Do you have a hairpin?" I ask her. She pulls out a hairpin from her hair and hands it to me. I begin to pick the lock which contains all the tickets for the machine. The tickets can be traded in for coupons or gifts. The more tickets you have, the more valuable the coupon or gift is.
"So we're stealing tickets now?" She sits on the floor next to me and I nod my head.
After minutes of struggling, the compartment clicks and opens. A roll of red tickets appear and a smile breaks out on my face, "bingo."
Avery grabs the roll and starts ripping off the tickets. We rip off about fifty of them and she hands them to me, "I guess you're a bad boy after all."
"I heard being the bad boy makes the good girl fall much quicker," I glance down at her.
"There's only one problem with that," I raise an eyebrow at her to carry on, "I wouldn't classify myself as a good girl."
My heart rate quickens at those words. I smirk, "who said that's a problem?"
Her gaze flickers down to my lips, for an instance, and back up to my eyes. By what she said, does that mean she wants to fall for me?
"Let's get some dinner," she snatches the tickets from my hand and walks towards the counter.
The evening breeze blows strands of her golden hair. Tranquil ripples of the river anchor to her serene presence near me. Flickers of stars in the sky glimmer in her eyes as she lays on the ground staring up at them. I admire the spotlights of beauty gleaming off her pale ivory skin and every single inch of her features.
No flaws.
Whatsoever.
She turns and rests the side of her head in her right arm. "Oh yeah, how's your hand?"
I copy her action but do it the opposite way so I'm facing her. "It was one punch, blondie."
"Why did you hit him?" There was no sense of judgement within the tone of her voice.
"You know what I like about you. If anyone makes a mistake or does something that can get them into trouble, you don't judge them for it. You help them move on and get over it, instead of criticising them." I admit, which makes my stomach drop.
"There's no point dwelling over the past, Preston. You can't change what's done," she sends me a small smile, "now, stop avoiding the subject. Why did you hit him?"
Damn. I tried.
"He was looking at Layla in an inappropriate way. Fucking pervert." I clench my jaw at the memory of what he did.
She laughs, a melodious tune to my ears, "Preston, she's a beautiful girl. She will definitely have boys looking at her. You can't break every one of their noses because of it."
"Who says I can't?" I move so that both my hands are behind my head and say, "I'd do it for you."
My gaze is forward but I sense her ocean eyes on me. She sits up and leans forward on her two arms, "you're a good brother to her but don't go round scaring every boy that breathes next to her. There are good ones out there, not all of them are bad."
"Like Joan?" An emotion floods her eyes and she clears her throat, staring at the shards of grass.
"Th-that's different," her voice comes out unsteady and there's a sadness to it, that insinuates a tug at the strings of my heart.
"If you don't mind me asking, why are you with him?" I'm prying and this is none of my business, but I'm curious.
"I-I-it's complicated. You wouldn't understand," her chin rests on her hand and she stares into the distance.
"Does he make you feel better about yourself?" She shakes her head.
"Does he pay any attention to you?" She shakes it again.
"Does he make you happy?" And again.
"Do you love him?" There's a pause before, confidently, her head shakes.
If she were with me, I would let myself go through hell before making her feel like this.
I was about to throw hands. Not at her. I would never hit a woman.
"Then why are you with him?" I sigh, "Avery, you will fuck your life up if you carry on doing this. If there's nothing there then stop forcing something to come out of it, because it won't. You're making yourself even more miserable by keeping yourself in this relationship."
Her clouded eyes make contact with mine and the walls she has built are slowly wearing away. "You deserve so much more than some asshole who's only with you for your reputation."
I place a strand of her golden hair behind her ear and a shiver runs through me as my fingers brush her cheek, "you deserve the world and everything it has to offer you. You deserve to be happy, loved, appreciated and cared for. If he can't do that then leave him."
"You just need to wait for the right person to come and treat you the way you should be treated." Her head moves up as I drown in the depths of her ocean eyes while she leans into my touch.
And I intend to be that person.
Till my last breath.