At least Kingston and his flunky were absent today, though I did notice Todd in one of my classes, looking smug. He kept glancing at the quarterback’s empty desk, smirking to himself and nodding. It made me nervous, but I swore not to get involved. If the half-breed wanted to screw around with the notoriously fickle Fair Ones, I wasn’t going to be there when he got burned.
When the last bell rang, I gathered my backpack and rushed out, hoping to evade a repeat of the day before. I saw Todd as I went out the door, watching me as if he wanted to talk, but I quickly lost myself in the crowded hallway.
At my locker, I stuffed my books and homework into my pack, slammed the door—and came face-to-face with Kenzie St. James.
“Hey, tough guy.”
Oh, no. What did she want? Probably to tear me a new one about the fight; if she was on the pom squad, Kingston was likely her boyfriend. Depending on which rumor you’d heard, I had either sucker-punched the quarterback or I’d threatened him in the hallway and had gotten my ass kicked before the teachers pulled us apart. Neither story was flattering, and I’d been wondering when someone would give me crap about it. I just hadn’t expected it to be her.
I turned to leave, but she smoothly moved around to block my path. “Just a second!” she insisted, planting herself in front of me. “I want to talk to you.”
I glared at her, a cold, hostile stare that had given redcaps pause and made a pair of spriggans back down once. Kenzie didn’t move, her determined stance never wavering. I slumped in defeat. “What?” I growled. “Come to warn me to leave your boyfriend alone if I know what’s good for me?”
She frowned. “Boyfriend?”
“The quarterback.”
“Oh.” She snorted, wrinkling her nose. It was kind of cute. “Brian’s not my boyfriend.”
“No?” That was surprising. I’d been so sure she was going to rip into me about the fight, maybe threaten to make me sorry if I hurt her precious football star. Why else would this girl want to talk to me?
Kenzie took advantage of my surprise and stepped closer. I swallowed and resisted the urge to step back. Kenzie was shorter than me by several inches, but that fact seemed completely lost on her. “Don’t worry, tough guy. I don’t have a boyfriend waiting to slug you in the bathrooms.” Her eyes sparkled. “If it comes to that, I’ll slug you myself.”
I didn’t doubt she’d try. “What do you want?” I asked again, more and more perplexed by this strange, cheerful girl.
“I’m the editor for the school paper,” she announced, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. “And I was hoping you would do me a favor. Every semester, I interview the new students who started late, you know, so people can get to know them better. I’d love to do an interview with you, if you’re up for it.”
For the second time in thirty seconds, I was thrown. “You’re an editor?”
“Well, more of a reporter, really. But since everyone else hates the technical stuff, I do the editing, too.”
“For the paper?”
“That is generally what reporters report for, yes.”
“But…I thought…” I gave myself a mental shake, collecting my scattered thoughts. “I saw you with the pom squad,” I said, and it was almost an accusation. Kenzie’s slender eyebrows rose.
“And, what? You thought I was a cheerleader?” She shrugged. “Not my thing, but thank you for thinking so. Heights and I don’t really get along very well, and I can barely walk across the gym floor without falling down and bruising myself. Plus, I’d have to dye my hair blond, and that would just fry the ends.”
I didn’t know if she was serious or joking, but I couldn’t stay. “Look, I have to be somewhere soon,” I told her, which wasn’t a lie; I had class tonight with my kali instructor, Guro Javier, and if I was late I’d have to do fifty pushups and a hundred suicide dashes—if he was feeling generous. Guro was serious about punctuality. “Can we talk later?”
“Will you give me that interview?”
“Okay, yes, fine!” I raised a hand in frustration. “If it will get you off my back, fine.”
She beamed. “When?”
“I don’t care.”
That didn’t faze her. Nothing did, it seemed. I’d never met someone who could be so relentlessly cheerful in the face of such blatant jack-assery. “Well, do you have a phone number?” she continued, sounding suspiciously amused. “Or, I could give you mine, if you want. Of course, that means you’d actually have to call me....” She gave me a dubious look, then shook her head. “Hmm, never mind, just give me yours. Something tells me I could tattoo my number on your forehead and you wouldn’t remember to call.”
“Whatever.”
As I scribbled the digits on a scrap of paper, I couldn’t help but think how weird it was, giving my phone number to a cute girl. I’d never done this before and likely never would again. If Kingston knew, if he even saw me talking to her, girlfriend or not, he’d probably try to give me a concussion.
Kenzie stepped beside me and stood on tiptoe to peer over my shoulder. Soft, feathery strands of her hair brushed my arm, making my skin prickle and my heart pound. I caught a hint of apple or mint or some kind of sweet fragrance, and for a second forgot what I was writing.
“Um.” She leaned even closer, one slender finger pointing to the messy black scrawl on the paper. “Is this a six or a zero?”
“It’s a six,” I rasped, and stepped away, putting some distance between us. Damn, my heart was still pounding. What the hell was that about?
I handed over the paper. “Can I go now?”
“I’ve spoken to your mother,” Guro continued calmly, and my stomach twisted. “I’ve asked her to keep me updated on your progress at school. She’s worried about you, and I can’t say I like what I’ve heard.” The whirling stick paused for a moment, and he looked directly at me. “I do not teach kali for violence, Ethan. If I hear you’ve been in any more fights, or that your grades are slipping, I’ll know you need to concentrate more on school than kali practice. You’ll be out of the demonstration, is that clear?”
I sucked in a breath. Great. Thanks a lot, Mom. “Yes, Guro.”
He nodded. “You’re a good student, Ethan. I want you to succeed in other places, too, yes? Kali isn’t everything.”
“I know, Guro.”
The stick started its twirling pattern again, and Guro nodded in dismissal. “Then I’ll see you on Saturday. Remember, thirty minutes early, at least!”