Chapter Four

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The first week of school went by fast. Before I knew it, it was Friday. Game day. Members of the football team wore their jerseys while the cheerleading squad wore their uniforms, supposedly for school spirit. Of course Trevor had given his standard sarcastic whistle when he'd seen me this morning, but it apparently hadn't given me the right to ride shotgun. I had even been on time that morning, since I had needed to wake up early in order to straighten my hair for the ponytail it was in right now.

I was walking through the school's hallway, having just entered from the parking lot with Trevor and Matt. In addition to being saddled down with my backpack, I was also carrying my lunchbag in my hand, and my duffel hung over my shoulder with pom-poms, extra hair ribbons, makeup, other miscellaneous toiletries, and a spare change of clothes inside. Both of the brothers had offered to carry the large bag for me, but I had declined. Neither of them usually went to the third floor, where my locker was, in the mornings and I didn't want to make them go out of their way, though I knew they wouldn't have minded.

As the three of us got closer to the stairwell, I turned to my right to say goodbye to the two boys. They would probably try to find Woody, since we hadn't run into him out in the parking lot this morning.

Before I could speak, I felt a hand slap my ass over my pleated blue skirt. I gasped and let out a shrill, "Hey!" I turned around to see who had attacked me. Justin Mallory. I should've guessed.

Justin smirked at me. "Looking good, El," he winked.

"Dude, what the fuck?" Trevor demanded fiercely. He had also turned around from my exclamation and had witnessed the end of the harassment. Trevor stepped toward Justin and in front of me, protectively coming between us.

"Trev, don't," I mumbled, putting my hand on his arm in an attempt to stop him. Trevor just shrugged me off and stepped closer to the football team's quarterback.

"I said, what the fuck?" Trevor repeated. His shoulders squared off, and I knew that this was not going to end well.

"Chill, Wentworth," Justin sneered. "She likes it." Oh God. This was apparently going to get worse than I had anticipated. I did not need Trevor, or his older brother, being told what I liked in bed by my ex that I had dumped almost four months ago.

It seemed that Trevor did not like being told that either, as he raised his hand in a fist. Justin caught Trevor's wrist mid-swing, before he could make contact with the player's face. Oh shit, shit, shit. I was frozen in place, terrified that Trevor was going to get his ass kicked, but not knowing what to do to stop it.

I had underestimated my best friend's quick reflexes. Trevor ducked when Justin made a move to punch him. He twisted his arm, wrenching it out of Justin's grasp and causing the jock to lose his balance slightly. That was when Matt stepped in. He had the advantage of surprise on his side, since he had been standing off to the side and Justin's focus had been on Trevor. Like his brother, Matt swung a fist at my ex, but unlike Trevor, Matt made contact. His punch landed right next to Justin's eye, causing the blond boy to stagger backward.

"Matt, no!" I yelled. Justin was much bulkier than the guitarist and worked out every day. There was no way Matt was going to win in this scenario. But Matt didn't back off. He stood defiantly, glaring at Justin with an anger that I had never seen from him before.

And Justin looked just as pissed off. Once he regained his balance, he punched Matt in the jaw. Without a moment's hesitation, Matt charged at the shorter boy, shoving him into the wall of lockers to our left. The two wrestled with each other, hitting whenever and wherever they could get a shot in, both of them completely ignoring my pleas for them to stop.

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