Good Boy, Bad Girl

Angel Reeds: Not-So-Professional Bodyguard

Whilst I enjoy the irony of the Bad Girl's name being Angel, I'm starting to regret my choice - the amount of typos I made this chapter is unbelievable.

What's Angel doing back here so quickly? She only left two minutes ago!

Sam's evidently thinking the same thing, because his voice is laced with surprise like how a snake bite is laced with poison. "What are you doing back here, princess?"

"I had a feeling you'd take your anger out on someone else, seen as you couldn't do it on me. And I was right. What the hell is your problem and why are you taking it out on him, you git?"

"He laughed at me!"

"We all did you pea-brained wankstain!"

I can't help it. I'm laughing again. I can't even mute it against my hand, I'm laughing too hard.

Angel seems stunned into silence, and San bangs his fist against the locker door. "Shut it!"

I ignore him and, for the first time in my life, address Angel. "Pea-brained wankstain?" I gasp, struggling to speak. "That's the best insult I've ever heard."

"Really? I'm honoured. Thanks!" She sounds genuinely proud before she addresses Sam again and disgust creeps into her voice, and her previous anger seems to heat up again. "Now, are you going to let Robert out or am I going to have to kick your arse again?"

He sneers. "Try me, but don't thi- OW! SHIT!"

I try and peer trough the vents in the door to see what's happening. From what I can tell, Angel just attacked him, and he's keeling over protecting his-

Ouch. She hit him there?

Remind me not to mess with this girl.

He limps to his feet and glares at her, though it's hard to take him seriously when he's cupping his lower regions like they're his firstborn child. "Now will you let him go?" Angel asks, voice sickly sweet with murderous undertones.

"Fine! Calm your tits woman- OW!"

Sam's face is the colour of an aubergine by the time he opens the locker, and as soon as he does he's limping down the corridor, throwing the occasional dirty look over his shoulder.

I clamber out of the locker and Angel comes to stand in front of me. "You okay?" She asks, tilting her head to the side and analysing me.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Thanks for the help." I look down at her. She's only a few inches shorter, but to me, the gap seems massive. "Well, this is embarrassing."

Her face stays casual but her eyes sharpen. They're shiny and bright, and they light up this hallway more than any lightbulb. "Why? Because I'm a girl?"

I shake my head quickly, not wanting her to 1) get the wrong idea and/or 2) beat me up. "No, not that. Half of the girls in this school could probably murder me without even smudging their eyeliner. It's just that you're shorter than me."

As soon as the words leave my lips I swear mentally and brace myself for the hit. Great job, Bobby. You try and avoid one kick to the balls and end up probably getting another.

She bursts out laughing.

Well. I wasn't expecting this.

"Um... Angel?" I manage to ask, trying to keep surprise from my voice.

"Sorry," she giggles. "I just wasn't expecting that."

"So... you aren't mad?" I ask, hope leaking into my voice.

She waves a hand casually. "Nah. I was expecting something sexist, and to be fair, I agree. I'd be embarrassed too if someone smaller than me saved my ass."

I relax, releasing a breath. "Thanks god, I don't think I could survive something like what you gave to Sam."

Her expression hardens. "What a dick. I can't believe he's in top set."

I nod, hardly even realising I'm actually having a conversation with Angel Reeds, Resident Bad Girl. "Me neither, especially considering how little work he puts in. He did absolutely nothing in there today - heck, he didn't even write the date."

Angel sighs. "Mr King likes him. They can both go suck off a donkey for all I care."

"A donkey would fit," I muse out loud. "They could have a threesome of asses."

Angel bursts into laughter again, and I smile a little. She's kind of cute when she laughs. It's easy to forget that she just kicked a guy in the balls and beat him up in front of half the school less than five minutes previously.

She looks at me. "You know, Robert, you're actually interesting. No offence, but you always seemed kind of boring."

My eyebrows raise. "I did? Mission accomplished!"

She frowns a tiny bit. "You want to fit in? That sounds dull."

I shrug. "To be honest, I wish I blended in more. Sam wasn't exactly the first bully to come over and attack me."

She bites her lip. "It happens often? I've never seen."

Every. Single. Day.

"Oh you know, it's happened once or twice." I say casually. "It's not that big of a deal, but it'd be nice if they could stop."

Her eyes start to sparkle and a devious grin plays on her lips. "You know, I think we could have a deal here."

I blink. "We could?"

"Mhm!" She meets my eyes fully. "You see, Robert, you seem fun. Interesting. You're pretty witty. I'd like to get to know you more. So, I have a suggestion."

I have a horrible feeling about this.

"What do you suggest?" I ask, trying not to sound dubious.

"I become your personal bodyguard!"

... what?

My mind is a jumble. I want to scream are you crazy?! or where did you get that idea from anyway? but all I can stammer out is: "Um... are you trained?

"Nope, but if I can beat up Mr Muscle limping away over there I figure I can protect you well. In return for guarding you, I wanna learn more about you. You're nice, and funny, but I only found that out today's and I've been in your class for what, three years? I think it's time you stood out a bit more."

I run over the option in my head. On one hand, it's completely insane and apparently so is she.

On the other hand, it means I won't have to deal with Sam Thompson and I might actually make a friend.

Ugh, I can hear my mum and dad screaming already. Friends are a distraction! They'll stop you from reaching your true potential!

It's more the prospect of finally defying them that anything that makes my say the binding words. "Sounds good."

Angel grins and holds out her hand. "We got a deal?"

"We got a deal." I confirm.

She grins - until she catches sight of the watch on my wrist. "Shit! The detention!"

Before I can say anything, she's bolted off down the corridor. "I'll see you next lesson, okay?"

"Oh-uh-bye!" I call after her. Shaking my head, I slap my forehead and groan.

What have I gotten myself into?

A/N: word of advice, people, never come back and proofread books seven months after you've published them. it's painful.