So it goes without saying, he can’t see me.
The cheerleader is still in her uniform, talking to a group of girls. Finding my balls, I walk toward her. Gary stays behind me, being my lookout. Damian is across the field, so I think I’m safe for now.
I don’t know how this is done, but I decide to take a page out of my brother’s book and use one of his lines. When I stop feet away from them, she turns and looks at me with big blue eyes.
“Hello, gorgeous,” I say with confidence, smirking.
Her friends grin, muffling their laughter behind their hands.
“Hi,” she finally replies, sipping her drink from a blue cup.
“I saw you cheerleading tonight. At the game,” I stupidly add, because where else would she be cheering?
But I keep my cool.
“Oh, awesome.” I need to take the hint, but I can’t. I want to be the one this time; the one who shines.
“So, can I have your number?”
Her friends all cackle loudly while Gary groans, hinting this is going down as the worst pickup attempt in history.
I should abort, but I can’t. “My name is Cody. Cody Bishop.”
They suddenly stop giggling, their mouths dropping open for another reason this time. “Is your brother Damian Bishop?” one of the girls asks.
Goddammit.
This is not what I wanted. I wanted to do this on my own merit and not because of who my brother is. But I nod, nonetheless.
The cheerleader, whose name I don’t even know, smirks, looking over my shoulder. “Give me your phone.”
“Sonya!” one of her friend’s scolds with a giggle. “He’s too young.”
A name. Finally. Sonya, my queen.
I hunt through my jeans for my cell and hand it over to her. She accepts with a lopsided smirk. When she punches in her number, I can’t believe my luck. Her friend’s stare on with wide eyes while I fucking feel like Hercules.
That is, until Sonya gives me back my phone and says, “Can you give my number to your brother?”
Gasping like a fish out of water, I suddenly feel like she’s kicked me in the nuts. I don’t know what to say, so I nod like a pussy. “Sure.”
“Thanks, Cody.” Sonya bends forward and kisses my cheek. The kiss is chaste, as it’s evident she feels sorry for me because living in Damian Bishop’s shadow is like being eclipsed by the sun.
She quickly shrinks back, yelping, and I have no idea why that is until someone yanks my bicep and spins me around. He towers over me and lifts me with ease, so we’re eye to eye.
“Let me go, motherfucker!” I curse, attempting to break free.
He snickers in response. “Whatcha doing out here, kid? Isn’t it past your bedtime?”
“Fuck you.” I spit in his face, which has the desired effect when he drops me to my feet. Instantly, I knee him in the balls. When he wheezes and folds in half, I punch him in the face. I am suddenly so angry.
I may be scrawny, but I’m scrappy and know how to fight. Damian would talk it through, but I’m not fucking Damian—I’m not perfect like him.
The guy’s deadbeat friends come running over, fists raised and ready to battle. Gary is no help as he runs and hides behind the girls. I’m outnumbered, four to one, but I suddenly feel alive. This is my fight, mine, not Damian’s.
And that fact spurs me forward as I clothesline one meathead. He drops to the ground with a thud. Before I know it, it’s a flurry of fists, and I attack anything that stands in my way. I’m working on pure adrenaline and ignore the screams around me. It’s sheer mayhem.
Just as I knee some asshole in the face, I hear a bottle smash, then see its serrated edge come toward me. I jump back, arms raised. The guy who I kneed in the balls is out for revenge. I never take my eyes off him as he circles me.
“Punching above your weight, don’t you think? Going for the prettiest girl here.” This dickhead is definitely the ringleader. He has soulless black eyes, eyes I will never forget. He also has a small blue shark tattoo on the side of his neck.
“Leave him alone!” someone who I’m guessing is Sonya screams.
These assholes don’t go to our school. I would recognize them if they did. I realize I’ve gotten myself in some serious shit, and now that the adrenaline has worn off, I’m suddenly afraid. Just as the bastard lunges for me, he is thrown to the side with brutal force.
I turn my chin to see Damian hulked out, ready to take anyone on. “Pick on someone your own size, you white trash assholes!” he roars, arms spread out wide like a fucking superhero.
The guys rush forward, getting in a few punches, before Damian flings them aside like ants. Watching on with wide eyes, I can’t believe my brother is taking them on and winning. I did help, but he makes my attempt laughable.
“Eat shit, asshole!” I scream from the sidelines, cheering my brother on.
When the four chumps realize they’ve lost, they scamper away with their tails between their legs like the cowards that they are. I won my first fight. Well, sort of.
Damian turns to me with that big brother look in his eyes. “Home, now.”
“Aww, c’mon, bro. Let’s celebrate your ass whooping with a beer.”
Sonya giggles, which makes me think I might have half a shot. But when Damian wipes the blood from his lip with the back of his hand, struggling to stand, I realize I better get both our asses home. “Fine. But you’re coming with me.”
I’m expecting him to argue, but he nods, cringing. He’s definitely going to have a shiner in the morning.
Lyndsay offers to come with us, but Damian shakes his head. “You stay, babe. All your friends are here. Call me when you get home.”
“Are you sure?” she asks, chewing on her bottom lip.
This is so Damian. Thinking of others.
“Yes. Besides, I need to get Squirt home.” He looks at me pointedly while I give him wide eyes. He’s just ruined my chances with Sonya. No one wants to hook up with a “Squirt.”
Damian and Lyndsay kiss while I pretend to gag.
Sonya smiles at me before mouthing, “Call me.” Well, maybe I was wrong. Looks like this night just turned into the best one of my life.
Damian messes up my hair before we commence a slow climb up the hill to where he parked his truck. He’s unsteady on his feet, revealing he’s hurting, but he doesn’t say a word.
“Want me to drive?” I offer. It’s the least I can do, seeing as he saved my ass from being cut into Swiss cheese.
Damian digs into his varsity jacket pocket, producing his keys. “Don’t tell Mom,” he teases, while I grin.
The terrain is thick with trees, and although this is the shortcut, it would probably have been easier if we took the path. We walk slow as Damian tries to catch his breath.
“So, sweet on Sonya Teller, hey?”
When I don’t reply, he nudges me in the ribs playfully. “I told ya, cheerleaders—”
But I’ll never know what he was going to say because one second he is standing beside me and the next, I’m suspended in midair.
Instantly, I kick out, but it’s useless. Some asshole has his arms around my middle, holding me prisoner as three of his friends emerge from the darkness and attack Damian.
“No!” I scream, attempting to break free, but it’s pointless. The guy has a strong hold on me. I smell beer and weed on his rank breath. “Let me go.”