“Sure, I’ll come over.”
His head snapped in my direction, surprise making his eyes bulge. “You will?”
“I’ll tell my aunt you’re helping me out with algebra homework. I suck at math and my teacher can tell her that if she calls to ask.”
He let out an incredulous chuckle. “You remember Jasmine is insane, right?”
“What kind of heartless bitch would I be if I said ‘no’ to someone who’s mentally ill?”
Charlie stared at me for a minute and then nodded once. “Good point. How does Saturday sound? I can pick you up at noon.”
“That works.”
“Hey.”
We looked up to see a trio of douche bags standing before us. I knew they were douche bags because of the creepy little grins they were wearing, the confident glints in their eyes, and the way they carried themselves. Like they expected me to be impressed by them.
I suppressed the urge to flip them the bird and simply said, “Hey back.”
“You’re Esmeralda, aren’t you?” said the leader, a tall, lean guy with perfectly styled blond hair and lazy hazel eyes. “Sorry, sorry. You go by Esmer, right?”
He looked somewhat familiar. I must’ve had him in one of my classes, but I wasn’t sure which. I glanced at his cronies and definitely recognized the one on the left, the one with the spiky black hair and freckles across his nose. I remembered thinking he looked a little like my older brother before he hit puberty.
“Yeah,” I said. “Who’re you?”
Charlie had become a statue beside me and none of the douche bags had acknowledged his presence. Any second now, one of them was going to glance at him, smirk, and say, ‘Hey, freak.’ I just knew it.
“I’m Allan,” said the leader. “These are my boys, Cole” —a nod at Spiky Black Hair and Freckles dude—“and Winston.” He gestured to the beefy black kid with the dimpled chin.
I flashed the angled peace sign. “’Sup.”
There was a round of snickers and guffaws, and then Allan went back to acting cool. “We’ve heard a lot of interesting things about you. Care to set the record straight?” He glanced at Charlie, smirked, and said, “Hey, psycho.”
Close enough. The asshole.
My new friend didn’t answer, just finished his soda. Then he crumpled the can in his fist and tossed it into the garbage can a few yards to his right.
I stood and dusted non-existent crumbs off the front of my dress. “Set the record straight, huh? Yeah, I guess I can do that for you.” I crossed my arms. “I’m from Boston. I was in a gang. I dated the leader. Was he abusive? Yeah, and I still managed to dump his ass. He taught me how to use a switchblade before I did, though. It’s hidden on my person at all times.” I glanced at Cole, who looked like he was going to say something pervy, and deadpanned, “Don’t.”
He made a choking sound and clamped his mouth shut.
I turned back to Allan, who wasn’t smirking anymore. “I have a tattoo but it’s on my shoulder. Sorry to disappoint. I ain’t easy either. Stop giving me skeezy looks.” This comment I aimed at Winston, who scowled. “Yes, I smoke and I drink, but I ain’t hanging with people I don’t like so don’t bother inviting me to any of your lame-ass parties.” I tapped a finger against my chin and pretended to think about it. “Hmm…What else? Oh, yeah.” I leaned in until I was nose to nose with Allan. “Apologize to my friend and get the hell outta here.”
The trio stood there and gaped at me for a second before everything I’d said registered in their little brains.
Allan shoved me away, his face contorted in rage. “What the hell is your problem? All we wanted to do was talk!”
“You’ve talked. Now go.”
Cole stepped forward. “Do you even know who you’re talking to?”
I gasped. “Are your mommy and daddy on the school board? My bad. I didn’t know you were so much better than me. I’m sorry. By all means, keep objectifying me and treating my friend like shit.”
“If you think we won’t beat the shit out of you because you’re a girl, you’re wrong!” Winston snarled.
I tried to hold in a laugh and ended up blowing a raspberry. “You’re a real man now, ain’t ya?”
Winston grabbed my arm. I reached into my bra with my free hand and whipped out the switchblade. Charlie was there before I could slice a chunk out of Winston’s nose. He shoved me aside and slugged Winston across the face. I hit the concrete, switchblade flying. Winston went down, but Cole and Allan were on Charlie in a second. Allan shoved Charlie back. Charlie fell down hard over the bench, ball cap sailing into the library wall behind him. Cole rushed at Charlie, but Charlie kicked Cole’s knee out the second he was in range.
Cole screamed and crumpled to the ground. Charlie was on his feet again and ready to face off with Allan. Winston stood and came to Allan’s rescue. I scrambled up from the sidewalk and leapt onto Winston’s back. He almost lost his balance but stayed standing somehow. He twisted from left to right, reaching behind him and grabbing a fistful of lace. I lost my grip along with my zipper and came sliding down Winston’s back. As he whipped around, he elbowed me in the mouth. I stumbled back with a shout of pain but I wasn’t finished. Not by a long shot. I lunged back into the fight.
Chapter 12
Charles
Any other day and the scene laid out before me might have been funny. Dean Jackson sat behind his desk, a bear of a man that barely fit into his suit. He looked like a Terry Crews doppelganger. Allan, Cole, Winston, Esmer, and I sat in chairs across from him. The two campus security guards who had escorted us into the office were guarding the door somewhere
