Beautiful Defiance: Cambridge High Mayhem (Kiss Starter: Cambridge High Book 1)

by Ashlyn Mathews

  “Here’s your helmet and your pads. You’ll need them for practice.”

  “What the hell?” I snatch the bag from her. “When did you steal these?”

  “The night you saved me from Henry.”

  “While I was sleeping?” She could’ve throttled me in my most vulnerable state.

  “You weren’t home yet. I think you were at that party being paraded in front of by girls in barely there bikinis.”

  My irritation drops a notch at what I’m hearing in her voice.

  “Are you jealous?” A grin spans my face. Fuck’s sake, why does the idea give me a stiffy?

  “Why would I be? We’re enemies.”

  “Or we’re those kids who pick on one another at recess because we want to play tongue hockey.”

  “As if.”

  I drop the bag and cross my arms. “That’s immature, Leigh.”

  “And saying things like tongue hockey isn’t?”

  “What would you rather I say?”

  “Something more mature.”

  “Like swapping spit? Eat your face? French kissing?”

  “That’s worse.”

  “Or how about eating you out? Or making you come on my face? Or wetting my dick pounding inside your snatch bareback.”

  “Now you’re being annoying and crass.”

  “Should I be immature? Or annoying and crass?”

  “How about you and your friends show the girls respect?”

  “I will when they start respecting their bodies. Otherwise, it’ll be business as usual.”

  “You’re a jerk.”

  “You’re a pain in my ass.”

  “Good.”

  “Fine. Have it your way.”

  “I will. My way suits me.”

  “Whatever, Misery.”

  “That’s Safari to you, Mister Stick-Up-My-Ass.”

  “Who’s the immature one now?”

  She points at the front door. “Get out, Seven. You saved my life. I returned what I borrowed. We’re even.”

  I grab my stuff and stomp out of her place.

  Even?

  Not by a long shot.

  12

  LEIGH

  As soon as I step inside my first class, I’m told the principal wants to speak with me.

  To my surprise and annoyance, Seven is sitting across from the principal. I grab the seat next to him.

  “Good morning, Leigh. How are you today?”

  He dips his head and glances at me over the rims of his glasses.

  “Fine.” I wait for him to say his piece. He clears his throat a few times before he does.

  “Leigh, it’s come to my attention that you have quite the rap sheet. Something that wasn’t brought up when your guardian enrolled you in our school.”

  I sit tall and don’t chance a glance at Seven. It’s bad enough that the principal is bringing up my past offenses in front of my enemy. Shitty enough, too, that Thomas lied to me.

  He said he told the principal about my troubles with the law, including my brief time in juvenile detention. He lied to me and Principal Staudinger. Now I have to cover for him and figure out who gave me up. My guess is either Hannah or Henry. Those two hate my guts.

  “I haven’t let it affect my schoolwork. I’m getting straight A’s.”

  “And you should be proud of turning your life around. I called you to the office to ask for your help.”

  He wants my help? I should be flattered, but I’m more suspicious than anything. I mean, there’s a reason Seven is sitting next to me.

  “What would that be?” I ask.

  “Seven’s grades are suffering, and if he doesn’t improve soon, I’ll have to ask the coach to bench him. He also missed two practices.”

  “That’s my fault. I was sick, and Seven stayed with me while I was in the hospital.”

  He looks from me to Seven with disbelief. Seven’s partying and those fights of his on and off the field isn’t helping his cause.

  “It doesn’t change the fact I’ll have to keep him out of the game tomorrow and possibly next Friday.”

  “Are you asking that I tutor him?” I cut to the chase. I’m missing math class, and math isn’t my strong suit, contrary to the belief that Asians excel in math.

  “Yes, that’s the point I’m trying to make. I heard you two are neighbors. Leigh, why don’t you stick around for Seven’s practice? Make sure he shows up. He can give you a ride home afterward, and you two can get studying time in. How about it?”

  This can go one of two ways.

  I refuse and the entire school somehow finds out and I’ll never live it down, certain I’ll be harassed until graduation and even beyond. I accept and will still get harassed by the girls for taking up Seven’s time.

  I begrudgingly accept. No matter whether I swing for refusing or accepting, there is one common goal—Cambridge High winning the championship with its king at the helm.

  “Good. You can start next week.”

  The principal dismisses us. I hurry to class, barely glancing at Ginger, the pretty and quiet blonde from my pottery class, as she looks from me to Seven keeping up alongside me. He’s not in a hurry because he’s worried he’ll miss something important. He’s matching my speed-walk, our fingers grazing, because he has something to say to me.

  “I don’t like this any more than you do.”

  “Not my fault you partied too hard and now you’re failing your classes.”

  “Do you want us to lose the championship? Hand the win over to the bastards of Delridge?”

  “I didn’t grow up here, so I couldn’t give a care, Seven.”

  “Wrong. You see, I think you care too much. Want to be a part of something bigger than yourself. Admit it, Defiance.”

  “So we’re back to that, huh?”

  “Enemies, remember?”

  “Then you should know I won’t admit a damn thing to you, Seven Shanahan.” God, he is so infuriating.

  “Leigh, you care for another reason. You’ll hang around for the year and then go to DU like the rest of us. You’ll be seeing us on campus.”

  “I’d rather gouge my eyes out with a plastic spoon than be on the same campus as Henry.”

  We’re nearing math class. Before we get to the door, Seven steers me into an empty hallway and crowds me against the lockers with his arms alongside my head.

  “You help me get my grades up, and I’ll kick any guy’s ass who dares hurt you.”

  “I’m not doing this for you. I’m doing it for me. I don’t want to be the girl known for giving the win to Delridge because I kept the king of the game from playing.”

  I shove my palms into his chest to get him to move out of my personal space. He doesn’t budge. It’s like the wind pushing a brick building. Immovable. Impossible.

  “And this ass-kicking I’m willing to do for you?”

  “I don’t negotiate with bullies and guys who have zero respect for a girl’s right to sass and defy.”

  “Why resort to that? Why can’t you just be?”

  “Follow the crowd?”

  “No, Leigh. Accept things as they are.”

  “Would you give up control and power over the game and the girls?”

  “It’s not in me to follow. I like being at the top of my game.”

  “Then don’t expect me to change, either, Seven.”

  I don’t have to push him away. He steps aside and lets me go. I rush to class, his intense stare boring into my back. I hold my head high, unwilling to show weakness.

  I can never forget who sits at the top of the food chain and that the hunter and the prey aren’t meant to cohabit as friends. They will always be foes. That’s how the laws of nature work. Survival of the strongest while the weak get stomped on, then eaten alive.

  13

  LEIGH

  The next day, in gym class, I eye the corner where Seven and his ex-girlfriend Allison disappeared to, curious as to whether the two will get back together.

  Hannah and
her friends went on and on about how Seven hasn’t had a serious relationship since his ex-girlfriend cheated on him with a football player from Delridge High their junior year.

  That’s the ultimate betrayal for someone like Seven, but maybe he’s willing to overlook Allison’s lapse in judgement and forgive and forget. From my spot by the bleachers, it’s obvious Allison was crying. Seven pulled her to him, then led her away from our curious stares.

  If they are getting back together, good for him for giving her a second chance, though the thought doesn’t sit well with me. Thankfully, my better side wins out over the vindictive, jealous Leigh Kim.

  I shouldn’t be a softie toward a cheater, but had Thomas not cheated on his wife, I wouldn’t be here. So, I’m willing to give someone a second chance to learn from their mistake. Thomas lying to Principal Staudinger should be strike two against him, but I can understand his point of view for keeping my rap sheet under wraps.

  Seven returns to the gym, and the guys are back on for their game of hoops. The girls are sitting on the bleachers, watching them.

  We have a substitute teacher for PE, and she’s awe-struck by Seven and his friends, giving them a free pass to do whatever they want for the last period of the day. That earned her points from the girls. They shelled out dating advice and makeup tips.

  I’d rolled my eyes. Even the teachers are under the reigning king’s spell.

  Seven grabs a basketball off the floor, and pushing off the toes of his shoes, he shoots. His shirt rides up and shows skin. The girls stare and point at his six-pack abs. Fan their faces, too, when his shorts slide down his hips.

  These girls and their out-of-control hormones. Proud of myself for being immune to the king’s charms and rock-hard body, I pick up a ball and toss it, knocking his ball away from making the second shot through the hoop.

  He glares. “You have a problem with me or something, Safari?”

  I smile, happy to be hating on one another again.

  “Or something, Nobody.” I smack my gum. Twirl pieces of hair between my fingers.

  Collective gasps echo in the gym that’s suddenly gone quiet.

  “How about a game of PIG?” I ask. “Or HORSE? Up to you which animal of preference I kick your ass in.”

  More gasps from the girls. The guys look me up and down and snicker.

  “PIG, and we up the ante with a bet.”

  The girls get off the bleachers and crowd us. They’re interested to find out what Seven will do to me should I lose.

  “Fine, but the bet stays between us.”

  Hannah whines. “Not fair.”

  “It’s not up to you,” I tell her. “Unless Nobody is too chicken-shit and needs witnesses.”

  “Pfft. As if.”

  I hold back my smile.

  “Come here.” I crook my finger.

  Seven heads my way. The sea of girls part. I step up to Seven and am so close, I catch a whiff of male and sweat.

  Leaning in, I say near his ear, “If I win, you teach me to drive. If I lose, you get back the lucky coin I ‘borrowed’ from your pants pocket.”

  He lurches back. “What the fuck, Leigh?”

  Hannah sets her hands on her hips. “What did she say? I have a right to know, Seven. She’s staying with my family, and if they’re in danger because of her, I’ll have to tell my dad and Henry.”

  “You’ll tell them jack shit,” he growls. “Leigh’s right. This is between me and her.” He steps forward and says in a low voice, “You win this time, but next bet, I decide what’s at stake.”

  “Are you speaking of the skin off my back if I lose? Or how about my firstborn? Or is it my defiant soul you’re after?”

  He chuckles under his breath. The other students and the substitute teacher lean in like they’re the Tower of Pisa.

  “You’re weird.”

  “Get used to it,” I say. “And don’t you dare make Weird into another nickname. Stick with Safari or Defiance, okay?”

  “Yeah, I got it.”

  “Hey, I thought you were sitting out tonight’s game?” I say in a quiet voice.

  As far as I’m concerned, few people are aware of Seven’s failing grades and him getting benched.

  “I overheard the girls talking in the bathroom. You’re playing?”

  The girls spoke excitedly about how they couldn’t wait to watch Seven play. He’s so hot in his uniform.

  “Coach and Principal Staudinger gave me a free pass. My only pass.”

  “Ah, gotcha.” Wait a minute, this easy back and forth is too easy. I step back and say for everyone to hear, “Rock, paper, scissors, winner goes first?”

  He nods. We chant, “Rock, paper, scissors, shoot.” His scissors cut my paper. Darn.

  The other students and the substitute teacher line up against the wall. There are fifteen minutes before class ends. We’ll need to make this quick; otherwise, I’ll miss my bus.

  Seven makes the first shot and waits for me to take his spot along the sideline before he hands me the ball. The point of the game is to make the shot from wherever the opponent made the shot.

  If I miss the hoop, I earn the first letter. Whoever spells PIG first loses. I overshoot the hoop. Shooting from the sideline is my weak point, and Seven homes in on that.

  The rest of his shots are done from the sidelines, resulting in the demise of my pride and the end to our game. The final bell rings, and everyone rushes out of the gym. Seven’s friends smack him on the shoulders.

  Ginger somehow slips in between Seven and his friends and loops her arm through his, leaning into him and looking up at him adoringly. I want to puke in my mouth. Seven doesn’t spare me a backward glance. Instead, he does what he’s good at—being a jerk.

  “See you later, Safari. Remember to stick with what you owe me.”

  “If I don’t?”

  “For real? I know where you live, Captain Underpants.”

  Does he have a clue there’s a cartoon character by that name?

  Nonetheless, his comment irks me. Just because I was wearing undies with Captain America’s face on my ass the night he took me to the emergency room doesn’t give Seven the right to make my crush on Chris Evans fair game.

  I do something immature. I stick my tongue out at his disappearing back, then utter words I regret saying as soon as they leave my defiant mouth.

  “Next time you stay over, put a sock on the snoring, Seven!”

  14

  LEIGH

  The bus ride home is unbearable. There are pointed glares my way and whispering and snickering. Word travels fast where Seven is concerned. I thought of backtracking and taking back my words, but that’s not me.

  He did stay the night.

  He does snore.

  End of story.

  The other kids can do with it what they like.

  Shoving aside the crappy ending to my day, I get off the bus. Except I’m not ready to go home. Home. Is it, though? A home has a family. My parents are dead. My half-siblings don’t know I exist. Same goes for Eleanor.

  Sighing, I heft my backpack higher over my shoulder and turn the other direction toward school. There’s a mom-and-pop diner that has to-die-for burgers and milkshakes. I can get two milkshakes to go and if I hurry, Sorrow can enjoy the yumminess before hers turns to mush. Hopefully, her father is out cold. That man is a jumpy drunk.

  I touch the faded scrape on my forehead and the healing cut on my bottom lip. It wasn’t his fault I surprised him in the darkness, and he shoved me against the brick fireplace, believing I was a burglar.

  Technically I am one.

  I stole Seven’s stuff from inside his bedroom while he was sleeping. Took the lucky coin that dropped from his pants pocket when I moved his pants to get to his football helmet and shoulder pads.

  I walk alongside the road and stare straight ahead. Cambridge is a small town, and there’s little traffic. But ever since I was almost run over walking home from the school I went to in Oakland, I stay alert to my surr
oundings. The great thing about game day Friday is the roads are even less busy at this time of day. The other kids are readying themselves for the football game and the after-game parties.

  Inside the diner, I set my backpack on the floor and put in an order for two milkshakes, a chocolate one and a vanilla one.

  “Is there a chance there are strawberry bits in the shakes? I’m highly allergic.” I nudge my backpack with my sneaker. Inside the inner pocket is my EpiPen.

  I went to a place that didn’t rinse out the blender well, leaving bits of strawberries stuck on the glass. As soon as I took a bite of my chocolate milkshake, I knew there were strawberries. My tongue tingled, then swelled up. It took weeks for my dad to work off the bill for the ambulance ride and the ER visit.

  “There could be. I can use a never-used blender and label it with your name.”

  “You’d do that?”

  “Heck yeah. Anything to keep customers safe.”

  “Wow, thank you.”

  He rings me up. I hand him my debit card. He looks at it before running it through the machine.

  “Leigh. I like your name. It’s different.”

  He pronounces my name wrong, and I politely correct him.

  “It’s Leigh, like Bruce Lee.”

  “Crap. I butchered it. Makes sense, though. You look more like a Lee than a lay.”

  My eyes must be wide. His sure are.

  “Shit. I mean, crap. That came out wrong.”

  Completely.

  He looks so mortified, I stretch out my hand. “Nice to meet you . . .”

  I wait for him to give me his name. He’s not wearing a name tag.

  “Miles. It’s Miles.”

  “I haven’t seen you at Cambridge High.”

  “Don’t go there. Graduated last year. My dad wanted me to get my ass to DU, but I can wait a year or two. He needs my help with the diner.”

  Nice of him. “Do you have openings?”

  “If you’re up for working every Friday and Saturday night, then yeah, my family can use the help. Game nights are always busy, and Saturdays just are. Does that work?”