A Berry Good Knight

Knight Shift (THREE)

Incensed on my behalf, I had to beg my best friend not to find Brooke and Julie's words verbatim 'punch the bitch into the next century'. Growing up with four brothers very much into roughhousing, and having witnessed Julie on more than one occasion getting the best of them, there wasn't a doubt in my mind that she could punch Brooke into the twenty-second century.

Hm, perhaps I should answer the phone. For all I knew, she could have been stalking the softball player at that precise moment. Ten feet away from the car, my steps ended as I reached for the vibrating device. Just as I flipped it open, Brooke's voice reached my ear. Annoyed with the tingle shooting through my belly just because she called out to me, I resumed walking while pressing the phone to my ear.

"Hey, Julie, on my way home. Call you back once I arrive."

"Are you okay?" she asked. I could easily detect her concern through the speaker.

Although far from it, I did my best to reassure her. "Talk soon."

"Okay, babe. I love you. Drive safe."

"I love you too, and you do the same." Phone snapped shut, I'd reached the drivers side of my car when a hand clasped my shoulder over the backpack strap. Ignoring another tingle, I shrugged that hand off, and turned to regard her, desperately hoping that I appeared aloof. "What, Brooke?"

She seemed to nervously lick those lips, which I'd happily kissed just the day before. "I..." She glanced toward my abundantly used yet wholly reliable vehicle. "Could we sit in your car? And talk, Coop?"

"Why do you want to get in my car, Brooke? Afraid that your friends will spot you talking to the lesbian leper? And you've lost the right to call me that."

"That's not the way I see you."

"Is that so? Well, your behavior from this morning states otherwise."

Hazel eyes filled with water. Hm, thinking back to the little speech she gave just before commencing to take my virginity, I supposed Brooke was just a good actress. "I'm sorry. So very sorry," she brokenly whispered. Reaching out to me, as if to touch my face, I wasn't certain which of us I surprised more when I slapped hers with such exuberance that her head actually turned.

Various conversations around us died upon a few students viewing and/or hearing the slap that had already caused Brooke's cheek to turn bright red. Thinking that it might bruise, I tried shrugging off the guilt, yet unable to. Pain radiating from my palm down to my fingertips, I gingerly flexed my hand, an apology on the tip of my tongue.

"No, y'all did not just hit my girl!" I audibly groaned. Crap. Where did she come from? Well, besides the Witches R' Us department store. I happened to believe that she was their spokesmodel. Looking toward her, Brooke attempted to speak, yet Tanya (with a few minions in tow) interrupted as she stopped before us, hands on her hips. "What the hell was that about?" She glared at me, minions adopting similar expressions.

I glared in return, thinking that I should have reserved that slap for the cheerleader. "None of your business."

She lifted an overly plucked eyebrow. Someone was fascinated with tweezers. "Excuse me, Baby Dyke?"

"I'm certain you understood as I was speaking basic English."

As she took a step in my direction, Tanya's ice blue eyes narrowed. "Y'all better watch y'alls mouth."

Again I flexed an aching hand. "Y'all better get out of my face before I take a notion to knock y'alls teeth into y'alls head. Lord knows there's enough room up there for them to fit as your brain is probably about the size of a walnut. Shell included of course."