The curtains are drawn. I pound on the door. Nothing. I pound harder. Kick the door with the toes of my sneaker when there’s still no answer.
On the second go at the door, it swings open. I barge inside Leigh’s place, not giving a care that she’s in her underwear and a tank top sans bra.
“Seven, what are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be at school?”
She’s staring at the floor. Damn right, she should be avoiding looking me in the eye. I’m so pissed off right now I’d scare the living daylights out of her.
“If it’s about yesterday, I’m sorry I didn’t thank you for saving my life.”
Her words strip me of my anger. Goddammit, how can she defuse the situation so easily with her crappy-ass words? She glances up and sees what is smeared on my face. Her eyes widen. She sucks in a breath.
I’m doing the same. See red too. Her bottom lip is swollen and cut up. There’s a scrape on her right temple, the skin red and puckered. I grasp her by the jaw.
“Who the fuck did this? Was it Henry?”
She doesn’t answer. No shit she doesn’t. What I’m quickly learning is Leigh isn’t like the other girls. She isn’t compliant. Moldable. Predictable. Leigh is defiant, what I don’t want in my life. Defiance is dangerous.
“Why didn’t you wash this off?” She reaches out and fans her fingers on my skin.
“I was too pissed,” I grumble, resisting the impulse to cover her hand with mine. To beg for her to dig her fingertips into my flesh. To help me feel something other than the emptiness that’s lived in me since I was fifteen.
Jesus H. Christ, her fingers on my skin are like that first and last warm breeze of summer, heralding the change in seasons. I mentally shake off that thought. Fuck’s sake, I’m waxing poetry and all because a girl touched my face.
I step back, hoping she’ll get the message and stop touching me. If she did, she’s not listening.
Again, why did I believe Leigh would listen to a word or any nonverbal cue I gave her?
“It’s just cornstarch, silly.”
“Silly?”
“Tough guy?” A shrug and a tentative smile from her.
“That’s better.” I smile back.
Wait, the fuck? Are we flirting? Her fingers fall from my face, and she goes to the kitchen, returning with a damp cloth.
I mutter, “Thanks,” grab the cloth from her, and scrub off the cornstarch. “You didn’t answer my question, Leigh.”
“It’s none of your business.” She takes the cloth from me and tosses it into the washing machine. “I’m sorry for the prank. I set it up before you saved my life.”
She sinks onto the couch like dead weight. Am I missing something, or did Leigh sway?
“Leigh, are you okay? Are you in trouble?”
If she is, I’ll get her out of it after I pummel whoever messed with her beautiful face. Leigh Kim. Beautiful. Defiance. Beautiful Defiance. Fits her.
“Everything’s fine. Go back to school already. You, we, everyone at Cambridge, can’t afford for you to miss a game because your grades are in the shitter.”
In the shitter? This girl and her mouth. She rests her head in her palms, shoves her fingers in her hair, and shakes out the inky strands. Her defiance is like a damn rock in my shoe, but Leigh looking worn down? It’s annoying as fuck that I care.
“I’m not leaving until you look me in the eye and tell me to piss off.”
Her fingers slide out of her hair. She rests her elbows on her knees, lifts her head, and tells me to piss off. I take a good look at her. Her cheeks are flushed, and not in a I’m-turned-the-fuck-on-by-you pink, but in a I’m-running-a-fever shade of crimson. I get down on my haunches in front of her and place the back of my hand on her forehead.
“You’re burning up.”
“No shit, Sherlock.”
“Leigh, this isn’t the time to be defiant.”
“It’s not defiance. I’m being a sarcastic smart-ass.”
“Hey, watch the language.”
“Hypocrisy doesn’t suit you, Seven.”
“Fuck’s sake, Leigh, you’re sick. Probably swallowed cum-filled, pissed-in pool water.”
“Gross.” She wiggles her nose, looking adorable as fuck.
“Just saying.”
“Cum-filled, pissed-in pool aside, I’m fine. Go. Be gone. Piss off.” She shoves me away and flops onto her stomach on the couch, her face smushed into the cushion.
I’m ready to rip into her and either demand she tell me who fucked up her face or ask what she needs at the store that’ll help her feel better. Except I see what’s giving her the fever.
On the back of her thigh is a long gash. The skin is red and angry. I skim my finger over the cut. She smacks at me.
“Hurt, didn’t it?”
“Yes.”
“Leigh, we need to get you to the hospital. There’s a festering infection on the back of your leg.”
“Don’t want to go.”
“Sorry, Defiance, but you don’t get a say in this.”
I help her to a sitting position. Help her poke her arms through the sleeves of her baggy sweatshirt and stick her skinny legs into a pair of sweatpants, too, that I found inside her bedroom.
After I slide her feet into her tennis shoes, I grab her by the waist, pull her up, and tug the sweatpants up until they’re hanging loose on her hips. Her head falls onto my shoulder. Her arms curl around my waist.
“Seven, I don’t feel good.”
“I bet you don’t.” I pick her up and hold her close to my body. “Don’t worry. The doctors and nurses will get you feeling better in no time. They’ll pump you full of miracle antibiotics and kill that mean-ass infection.”
“You’ve been sick like this too?”
“Yeah. Junior year, I was running after this kid and hit my knuckles hard on the side of this dude’s old truck. Split the skin. Rust got into the cut, and my body did not like that shit. My hand swelled up like a helium balloon.”
“Nice analogy.” Her hand settles on the spot over my heart. She gives me a pat. It’s like we’re old friends or something.
“Thanks,” I mumble.
“Seven, why were you running after the poor kid?”
“He stole this old lady’s purse. Knocked her the fuck over.”
“Did you get back her purse?”
“Yeah. Yeah, I did. Punched the kid in the face with the knuckles that weren’t cracked open.”
“That’s nice of you, Seven. You’re her hero.”
“I did what any decent human being would do.”
“Where I grew up, the kids would have pilfered her purse down to the zipper and the lining.”
“That’s pathetic.”
“It is.”
“Are you glad you left?”
“Very. I don’t miss any part of my old life.”
“Nothing at all?”
“There is this one guy. He kept me out of trouble. Lately, he’s too busy to pay me attention. A good thing. He can be a major pain in my ass.”
“That so?”
She smiles. “So.”
“He must be one cool dude.” Otherwise, she wouldn’t have that huge smile on her face.