Football and Fairy Tales

Chapter 3

Dakota

"Where'd you get that skirt? The circus?"

Why is there always that one person that makes it their job to make someone's life miserable? Whoever this chick is, she's apparently made it her mission to be my person. I'd be a rich girl if I had a dime for how many of them I've dealt with over the years. Rolling my eyes, I continue walking down the hallway, looking for the numbers matching my schedule.

"Cat got your tongue? Hazard of the job, right?"

Her friends laugh, but it sounds forced. I can't blame them because that joke was lame. I'm more than happy when I see the number I'm looking for and turn into the classroom. Unfortunately, so does the voice.

"Oh look, circus girl has class with us."

She needs a class to refine her bullying skills. I'm starting to wonder if I've stumbled into an elementary school instead of a high school. At least her excitement sounds the same as mine—none at all.

"What? Your clown make-up wear off too soon, Daffodil?"

Real laughter follows this statement, and I look up to see a boy or ... half boy/half man, damn, he looks too good to be in high school, staring openly at me. His dark brown hair is messy, either a purposeful look or one that says I don't care. I have a feeling it's the latter. It's long enough to be sexy but short enough not to be in his eyes. And oh, those eyes. They're a strange shade of blue that looks almost ethereal. They're also eyes that pinpoint him as worldly despite his comfort in the room labeling him a guy that obviously grew up here. Those same eyes avert enough to let me know there's an empty chair behind him. I know it's not a good idea, but I acknowledge him by moving and taking the proffered seat.

"Daffodil?" I whisper in his direction while the girl in question comes into view.

"You're so cute when you make a joke, Devin."

Holy cow, she's actually serious. She does realize he wasn't joking, doesn't she? Or does she? At least I know his name now. The syrupy tone in her voice and the glare she's giving me lets me know this girl has a thing for Devin, the boy .... man boy...whatever ... in front of me.

"Ren, you know I never joke."

"Bull shit," I cough. Why I say this is questionable or maybe it's the way his eyes are shining. There's a crinkle around them that lets you know he's the type that likes to laugh. I don't know him from Adam, but I'm sure joking is something he'd be good at.

The way his shoulders move in front of me, I know he's stifling a laugh. The mean girl, who I've formulated is Ren Daffodil, smiles at him sweetly. She gets close enough to run her finger down his well-muscled arm. I've been temporarily forgotten.

"My parents are out of town tonight if you'd like to come over."

Raising my brow at her bald-faced suggestion, I wonder how often this is a thing. If I'm being honest about his handsome good looks, I'd be willing to bet he doesn't lack in partners. Even in the Deep South, where parents think their children are perfect, that church keeps them abstinent, sex is something that starts early. My mom blames culture and social media. My dad says it's about expression. I think it's boredom.

"Can't. Work."

Instead of looking defeated, Ren shrugs at his barely there answer when the teacher enters the room.

"Your loss," she declares while going to the front of the classroom to her chair. I'm not at all surprised her seat is in the front. She seems the kind of girl who likes to be in all the action. According to my class schedule, the teacher, Mrs. Tolliver, starts calling the roll immediately. When she makes it to my name, she pauses. Please don't ask me to speak.

"It looks like we have a new student!" Mrs. Tolliver says with more enthusiasm than I'm feeling.

I do not want to talk about me. I do not want to talk about me.

"Why don't you stand up –"

As if sensing my hesitation, Devin holds up his hand and catches her attention.

"Yes, Mr. Gibson."

"I'm pretty sure I heard Ms. Daffodil over there discussing next week's assignment. Are you sure you haven't been releasing information none of us know yet?"

My mouth drops open. Did he accuse her of cheating?

"Well, I don't –"

Mrs. Tolliver starts ruffling through papers while Ren glares at him from her seat up front. Her nice girl front with him is gone. For now, anyway, because I have a suspicion he does this stuff for fun. Leaning forward, I whisper in his ear. The closeness of him makes me shiver.

"You didn't have to do that."

The way he tenses, I know our close proximity affects more than just me. He leans back further in his seat.

"No worries. It's a known fact that Daffodil's dad gives her assignments early. The teachers keep it hush-hush because he's the principal here."

My brow arches. "Your principal's last name is Daffodil? How does anyone take him seriously?"

He turns long enough for me to see him grin, and my heart literally skips a beat at the dimples on either cheek. I never knew I was a dimple girl until now.

"Who says they do."

I grin back, but before I can reply, Mrs. Tolliver is once again getting her class under control. Thanks to the dark-haired guy before me, all thoughts of the new girl are gone. A few minutes later, when Mrs. Tolliver is busy marking notes on the board, I lean forward again.

"Thank you," I whisper.

"You owe me now –"

He breaks off, and I know he's waiting for my name. My eyes narrow.

"I owe you?"

"Yep, a favor for a favor."

I roll my eyes. "Depends on the favor."

He chuckles. "I like how your mind works. You catch on fast."

"Well, lover boy, it's not happening." I pause, but only briefly. "But for the record. The name's Dakota."

"We'll see."

Does he really think? There is no way he believes I'll...

"You're a bit sure of yourself, aren't you?"

I can't see his face, but I can sense he's smirking, or I imagine he is.

"Only when it's something I want."