I stayed up all night.
Thinking about him.
Stupid Kingston.
Eventually the night had turned to dawn, awaking my eyes with the light of day as the sun slipped through my window seat. I've been laying in my bed since the park.
I groan to myself tiredly as I get out of my small bed. Well, it isn't exactly a bed. It's a mattress on the floor with a couple blankets.
My eyes look around my tiny room. It couldn't be any better than a normal sized bathroom with an actual small bathroom off one wall. It held one small sink, cramped shower, and tiny toilet. But it's okay, that's all I need.
The paint on the walls is chipped and peeling as the days go on, my pile of clothes off in the left corner of my room. My beat up mattress sat in the far right corner of my room, the blanket I have barely goes down to me feet, but I wear my socks and sweats to bed. The broken lamp plugged into the only working outlet I have in my room, my phone charger plugged into the same cover less outlet.
Slowly making my way over to my pile of clothes and start to pick through them.
I slip on some ripped skinny jeans and a white sweater that fell off my shoulder, revealing my black bra strap. Then pulling on some white socks and throwing my hair up into a messy bun and put my clear rimmed round glasses on. Checking myself in the mirror and smiling softly. I look cute and innocent. Besides the white bandages wrapped around my left wrist and the one that was secretly hidden. The fighter I had gone against brought a knife into the fight, he got me good in the wrist and slashed me across the side. But I took him down quickly. They don't call me the 'Swift Shadow' for nothing.
Taking one last look in my shattered mirror I nod with a smile.
Perfect.
I stuff my things into my black backpack and zipped it up. Grabbing my new book off my leaning desk and quietly opening my bedroom door.
As quietly as I can, I tiptoe down the stairs, knowing that my father was most likely home.
After the events last night, I walked to the illegal ring hidden back in the alleyways through town. I had to blow off some steam.
And get fucked.
And I accomplished both. But the guy I hooked up with didn't turn me on the way Kingston did, he didn't whisper dirty things into my ear, he didn't grind himself into me while I snapped back at him. He didn't slap me anytime I said something bratty.
He wasn't Kingston.
So when I got home, I wrapped my cuts and then laid in bed, staring up at the ceiling as I thought of Kingston.
The way his piercing grey eyes swirled with lust as I moved myself against him. The way he gripped my hips when I tried to walk away. The way his minty breath fanned my neck. The way he nibbled my ear teasingly.
But also the way he looked in the sun rays. The way his black hair shown in the gentle touch of the sun. The way that smirk of his spread across his face when he watched me struggling with reaching the high books. The way he gently brushed my hip with his hand, causing that warm, new feeling to run through my veins. The way he chuckled at me.
God I love that chuckle.
I grab my white sneakers and yank them on, tying the laces tightly.
My gaze drifts to the old buzzing refrigerator sitting in the run down and breaking kitchen. I debate getting something to eat, but if my father noticed anything out of place I was sure to get it.
So I ignored my grumbling stomach and cracked the door. Checking my mental list off in my head as I slip my way through the door.
Folders? Check.
Binder? Check.
Book? Check.
History book? Check.
Phone? Check.
Knife? Check.
Spare change of clothes? Check.
Bandages? Check.
Okay. I'm all good.
I pull the creaky white chipped door closed and swiftly make my way down the steps.
With one last mental note, I start my way down the cracked concrete sidewalk. Keeping my head low and out of others business. That only gets me into deep shit I can't get out of.
~~~~
The school is clustered with running engines, loud chatting, making out, or fights.
Damn those fights look tempting.
No I have to let my cuts heal.
I quickly veer off the main sidewalk and into the grass.
The sun peeked above the horizon, the shining rays gleaming down on my tired eyes. I quickly slip between the trees, the lush leaves and branches shading my poor eyes from the blinding sun.
The wind blew gently, rustling the delicate leaves and the strands of grass as my sneakers pushed them back down onto the earth.
Stopping and pausing at an old thick oak and thinking whether I should sit here or not, then I let my backpack slide off my shoulder and onto the ground, grabbing my book out but then pausing, looking around at my surroundings.
It's so beautiful.
Birds fluttered around in the sky, some resting on the cables that stretched across the sides of the roads, connecting to the telephone poles at however few yards or feet.
The football field was deserted, just like the playground across the street at the elementary school.
Pulling out my phone to check the time, my thumb presses the power button, 7:45. Any minute now, those loud expensive revving engines will appear. Any minute now.
And I'm right.
The loud engines revved in the distance, the noise so loud the birds fly away. People wince back at the sound of the engines.
I've always wanted to see the expensive cars that made those powerful sounds but I can't get caught drooling over cars. I need to keep my nameless title.
I need to.
They always arrived 5 minutes before the first bell of the day rings. So when they pull up I know that school is starting soon and I should pack up whatever I was doing.
I stuff my book into my backpack and check my phone one last time for a text or call from either parent. But no, silent as usual.
My lungs loosen with a heavy exhale, before throwing my backpack over my shoulder and tapping my foot against the grass as I wait patiently for that annoying ring to notify the start of another long painfully quiet, predictable day.
The bell rang in the distance and I quickly make my way over to the side entrance into the school.
My hand gripped the cold metal handle, pulling the heavy side door open and scurrying into the empty hallways. They won't be empty for long. I have to hurry.
My feet move faster than what my mind could comprehend as I fly up the stairs, rushing to reach my locker within a few seconds.
~~~~
I quickly spin my combination into my locker and fling it open as voices coming drifting up from the stairwell. The echoing laughter taunting my ears, the chatter getting louder and louder each second passing.
Shit Amara faster!
I quickly shove my backpack away and chuck my empty water bottle into the back of my locker. It clanged against the metal. Oh well.
Don't have time to fill it!
My arms wrap around my supplies and yank the binder and folders out of my backpack and slam my locker closed, rushing to my first period. Which is History. I fumble with my supplies as I almost run through the halls.
I head the opposite way of the voices, heading for a back stairwell that no one really ever uses. The hallway was dark and quiet, the only sound coming from the buzzing of the dim, flickering light.
I let out a breath as I glance back and see a swarm of teenage bodies crowding the hallway. My heart beat hammering in my chest as another sigh leaves my lungs and start to make my way down the wide blue stairs.
The noise of kids all around me is loud and never ending. It's not that I don't like other people, it's just...that no one here would even take the time to get to know me. Let alone notice me. And how do I know they won't lie to me? Cheat me out?
I don't.
So I stay to myself and myself only... well, that was until Kingston. He's just so...captivating. Messing with him is just so easy and fun.
Keeping my head low as I step off the stairs and make my way into the swarmed hallways.
The school is mapped into my head, I know where I am by the sound of voices and the tile flooring. The second floor tile is a little duller than the first floor. And the third floor tile has darker specks than the second floor.
Weird, I know but I have to get around without picking my head up somehow.
~~~~
Making it to History is probably the easiest thing throughout my school day. Most of the time I'm not met by any kids when I get into the classroom, and if I am met with kids, they pay me no mind.
I go to the back of the classroom and sit down at the small three people table that no one sits with me at. So projects I do on my own, homework I do on my own, paperwork I do on my own, and listening to music I do on my own.
I set my stuff down onto the table and slide it down into the corner. Sitting down on the middle stool and plugging my headphones into my phone, tapping Spotify.
My thumb presses the play button as more kids flood into the classroom, grumbling, laughing, and rubbing their faces. They all take their seats as the teacher took her attendance. As usual.
She'll call everyone's name but mine, just send me a quick glance, I give her a nod, and she continues with attendance.
She clapped her hands together with a smile "Alright! Everyone's here so let get started—" then the phone rang.
I keep my eyes trained on my history book and waited for her to call some kid down to the office for getting caught doing something bad in the hallway or bathroom.
"Yeah....okay.....I'll send her down. Thank you." The teacher spoke into the phone then hung up.
"Amara." She called and everything froze, my muscles tensing, my grip on the book tightening.
Oh no.
Slowly my eyes rise from the book and up to the teacher. My nerves being met with 22 pairs of eyes. On me. I discretely pause my music and pull an earbud out "Yes?" I asked, hesitation clear in my voice.
"The principle needs you in the office."
I suck in a breath and nodded. Gathering my things together and unplugged my earbuds from my phone and stuffed them in my jean pocket.
The eyes were glued on me, it's probably the first time that anyone has ever seen me. Well, acknowledged me.
I slowly slip off the stool and make my way through the walkway through the desks. Those eyes burning into me as I pass.
Murmurs start as I reach the teachers desk. She gives me a soft look that does nothing to help my nervousness "Good luck." She states and then went back to teaching.
I take a breath and leave the room, the eyes finally leaving me.
The hallway is empty, silence radiating throughout the cold walls.
Pulling in another breath and started to make my way to the office.
What did I do?
~~~~
My body wouldn't move. I'm stuck staring at the thick oak wood door to the principles office. I've never been here before.
My palms are sweaty, my heart is racing in my chest.
What did I do?
With one final breath, my body finally becomes mobile again. I reach a shaking hand out to the handle and then pull the door open.
I make my way in and froze, my feet now cemented into the rough carpeted flooring.
Oh...my...god.
The principal is sat at his desk, slightly cowering away from the three large guys standing around his office. One was leaning on the desk with his hand plated near the principals papers, his ankles crossed as he glared down at the principal. The other was leaning on the desk, his back to the principal with his arms crossed across his chest. And the other leaning on the wall with his arms crossed.
The door clicked behind me and all of their eyes shot towards me.
My breathing wasn't settling as I stared into those gray clouds that haunt my thoughts. My heart still hammering in my chest.
"A-Ah, Amara, great of you to join us..." the principal stammered, giving me a weak smile, sweat dripping from his forehead.
My head dips in a respectful nod towards him and set my binder and folders down on a table and walk my way over to them. The unusual colored eyes following me. I can feel it.
"Why am I here?" I ask and the principal looks at me then to the guys huddled around the desk.
"You're our tutor now." A deep voice rumbled. Without looking I took my elbow and jabbed them in the side. A grunt and a whoosh of air passes by my ear. And a dark chuckle.
"Mi stai scherzando!?" My voice echos in the office as I spin around, being met with Kingston holding his side, his eyes staring me down.
(Are you kidding me!?)
The two other guys who look a lot like him widened their eyes in surprise.
"Sei cosí stupido che hai bisogno di un tutor!?" I angrily speak, my words coming out quickly.
(You're that stupid to need a tutor!?)
Kingston glares down at me "Guarda la tua bocca." he warns.
(Watch your mouth.)
My jaw clenched, grinding my teeth together. "Please excuse us." I state, grabbing the front of Kingston's black hoodie and dragging him with me into the front office area. Which is empty.
The desks deserted, paper scattered across the heavy thick wood. The computers sat atop the cluttered desk with a phone at each.
Rage boiled under my skin as the door closed shut behind me and him.
Why the hell is he at my school!?
Why the hell am I his tutor!?
What the hell!?
"What the hell!?" I almost yell at him. He stands up straight, crossing his arms across his chest as he gives me a hard stare.
He raises an eyebrow at me, his eyes glancing down at my clenched my fists "You made me get called down to the office! Now everyone is gonna know my name!", my voice barely below a yell. But I make sure to keep my sweater pulled over my bandaged wrist.
"Why doesn't anyone know your name?" He asks eerily calm.
"Why are you in my school!?" I snapped at him.
His eyes flash with surprise. "You've never seen me around school?"
I close my eyes angrily "No! I haven't!", throwing my arms up in the air, turning my back to him. Then fixing the cuffs to cover the white medical wrap.
I feel him before he touched me. I always do.
His fingertips brush my arms as they travelled their way up my forearm, to my shoulder. My skin heating to his temperature as his hands slide over my shoulders, his thumbs brushing my neck.
My muscles pulled taught as his fingertips brushed my bandaged side. Fuck I hope he doesn't feel it. The next thing that touches me is his chest as his hands travel their way down to my waist, gently circling around the dip of my waist, drawing me into his chest.
His scent and warmth wrap around me, causing my muscles to tense then relax. His breath on my neck as he leans closer into me "Why does no one know your name bookworm?" He asks me in a low whisper, his words tickling my ear.
"Because." I whisper back, my heart hammering in my chest, but not because I'm scared.
He isn't trying to pressure me into telling him, but I could feel the need to know rolling off his words as he spoke. "How come I've never seen you around school?" He murmured in my ear, while placing gentle kisses on the shell of my ear.
A shiver danced up my spine as he continues to place light feather like kisses along my ear "I don't...I don't talk with people... I don't hang out with them, I don't do group projects...", his tongue came out to lick the shell of my ear and I shiver again, backing up into his chest some more. "Continue." He encourages.
But his actions are making it hard to focus.
"I-I don't eat in the cafeteria... I don't have anyones number... I don't get noticed..." I breathe out.
His thumbs rub circles over the jean material as he nibbles at my ear again "Good girl..." he murmured and my breath caught in my throat.
Oh I like that. Say it again.
His chuckle ran through my body like fire, sparking my nerves to life, waking my senses up.
"You—"
*Knock* *Knock*
I pull away from Kingston before he got to say what he was about to say.
"Bro you almost done in there!" Another deep voice called out.
Quickly pulling open the door to reveal a guy who looks just like Kingston, but with longer hair and a lip piercing, his dark black hair falling over his eyes slightly as the almost black eyes shift down to me.
A smirk rose to his lips "So you're the famous Amara?" He asked, raising an eyebrow that has a shaved section near the end with an eyebrow piercing.
I look over my shoulder at Kingston who was glaring at the guy standing in front of me.
"Oh come on brother. Why don't you share?" The guy asked, leaning on the doorway.
Share?
What the fuck?
Brother?
Crossing my arms across my chest and glaring up at who is apparently Kingston's brother. "Non so chi pensi di essere, ma non sono un oggetto. Non sono condiviso." I snap at the guy.
(I don't know who you think you are, but I am no object. I'm not shared.)
An amused look spreads across his face "Oh grintoso. Mi piace." He spoke thickly.
(Oh feisty. I like it.)
That's it.
"Fratello—" Kingston started angrily before I raised my hand and slapped him across the face. Hard.
(Brother—)
His head whipped to the side, a pink hand mark growing on his cheek. "Non osare parlarmi cosí! Ti abbatteró. Non farlo. Prova. Lo." I seethe at him with clenched teeth. His hand came up to his cheek as he looked down at me with wide eyes.
(Don't you dare talk to me like that! I will gun you down. Don't. Test. Me.)
"You touch her Mason and you won't have the hand you laid on her by morning." Kingston threatens from behind me. His voice calm and cool, making the threat all more believable.
Mason. So that's his name.
I cross my arms across my chest, glaring back up at him. His eyes drifted behind me, probably towards Kingston.
He eventually moved out of the way of the door and I slipped back into the office, seeing Mason slouching in a chair, rubbing his now red cheek. The other guy was laughing at him.
He had a simple black cross dangling from his left ear, dark red-ish brown eyes and dark black hair. His hair was gelled back into an interesting curl-swoosh looking hairstyle.
The principal still sat still in his office chair, looking at the three tall, scary guys in his office warily.
I watch as the guy with red eyes stands up and walks over to me. He extended his hand out to me, a small smirk plastered on his face.
What is it with these guys and smirking?
"Ciao bella, sono Mason e il fratello di Kingston, Dawson, ma potresti chiamarmi signore se voui" he spoke, his Italian accent thick and well noticeable.
(Hello beautiful, I'm Mason and Kingston's brother Dawson, but you could call me sir if you'd like)
A low animalistic growl erupts from behind me and Dawson's head shoots up.
Holy fuck that was hot.
Turning my head, looking over my shoulder away from Dawson to see Kingston standing near the doorway with his hands balled into fists, breathing heavily, his gray eyes swirling with anger. You can practically see smoke blowing from his ears he was that pissed.
Dawson chuckled at him, but Kingston's stare was never fading. Dawson's laugh faded out as he took a step away from me. I raise an eyebrow at Kingston who still looks pissed.
His brothers watched with wide eyes as Kingston reached his arm out and fisted the back of my white sweater in his hand and pulled me back into his chest. He wrapped his right arm around my waist, his other staying down at his side as he glared at his brothers. "Mine." He grunts as his arm on my waist tightened.
Holy shit, I like this way more than I should.
Mason and Dawson crossed their arms over their chests raising their eyebrows at Kingston who let out an angry huff of breath.
The principal sat there awkwardly as the three brothers were in the middle of a stare off.
I cross my arms across my chest, getting a little bored. But Kingston's dominating stance, and possessive nature was kinda sorta turning me on.
I gently push my ass back into him. His stare faltered as those stunning gray eyes flickered down to me. He gently pinched my waist, a warning to knock it off as his dangerous stare returned to his brothers.
Clearing my throat, all the brothers eyes shoot down to me, but Kingston's hand still stayed clamped around my waist. Honestly I'm liking this...a lot.
"So why am I your tutor Kingston?" I ask, tipping my head up so it laid against his chest as I looked up to meet his eyes.
"Our father wants us to pick our grades up." Mason grumbled and Dawson chuckled.
I raise an eyebrow at Dawson "Aren't you to old to be here?" I asked and Mason let out a choked cough.
"Oh! Ouch! Kingston's girl just roasted you man!" Mason said while laughing. My cheeks heated at his words, Kingston's chest vibrating with a laugh.
I tip my chin up at his two brothers "I'm not Kingston's girl. I'm non of your guys's girl." I state, pulling away from Kingston.
Dawson glares down at me "I'm not old. I'm 21." He stated with his arms crossed. I walk up to face him and stared him in the eyes with an innocent smile "Like I said. Old."
I watch Dawson's jaw clench tightly as Mason laughs hysterically in the background.
Kingston's burning stare burns my back as Dawson brought his hands up in a resting fighting pose.
My nerves jump into my throat and my instincts told me to punch. So I did.
I nailed him in the eye. He groans and straightens, covering his eye "Ouch. I was kiddin you know." He groaned out. My eyes widened "I'm so sorry! I just reacted how I normally would—but holy fuck is your face made of stone!?" I squeal the last part out as I shook my hand, my knuckles turning a pink color.
Mason was now laughing even harder as Kingston quickly came up to me and spun me around so I was facing him. His eyes coated in worry as he grabbed my hand and checked for any cuts or bruises forming.
He let out a sigh of relief when he found my knuckles fine but they will bruise over slightly, but paused when his eyes caught my wrapped wrist.
My muscles coiled tight as I froze in my spot, his deep voice laced with anger "What happened?"
Gulping and holding my hands behind my back "Uh—nothing! Just uh...slipped," I tried, but there was no way he was going to buy that.
"Are you hurt anywhere else?" He almost growled as he walked around me in a circle, examining me. I shook my head no but his eyes told me that's bullshit.
I yelp in shock as his warm hands slipped up my sweater, feeling for any bandages. His jaw flexes as his fingers brushed the tight bandage just under my breasts. His eyes turned dark with anger as his fingers gently brushed the bandaging, he hit a sore spot and I wince back.
"By what?" He asked as his fingers gently drew the outline of my slash. God why does this feel so good?
I swallow slightly as his brothers watched the scene unfold in front of them.
"Uhm..." I try to come up with an excuse. His annoyed eyes look up at me, almost like a demand to keep me from lying.
I drop my head, looking down at my sneakers "A knife..." I mumble quietly.
His pointer hooked under my chin to lift it, his eyes filled with a mix of emotions "By a what?" He asks again, anger pooling into his eyes more by the minute.
"A knife..." I repeated a little louder.
His hold on my chin tightened slightly.
"How?" His voice stern.
I shake my head at him, trying to tell him not in front of the principal.
His eyes shot up to the principal "Out." He gritted and the principal gladly took the invitation and bolted out the door.
Mason and Dawson were looking at me curiously but I saw their concern hidden in their unusual colored eyes.
Why? They haven't even known me for a half an hour yet.
"How?" Kingston asks again, my eyes drifting back to him. I suck in a breath, pulling away from his hold, Staring to pace back and forth across the room.
"Amara, how?" Dawson was the one who asked this time. Swallowing the lump in my throat, debating whether to tell them or not.
They might be able to help me in the rink.
No. They'll get mad.
He'll hit me. No doubt.
What if he thinks I'm crazy?
What if they find it amusing?
But what if they find it cool?
Tell them.
Tell them.
I took a deep breath and finally stopped pacing, looking up from the rough carpeted flooring to find Dawson and Mason standing behind Kingston with crossed arms. Kingston stood up front, looking at me worriedly and pissed at the same time.
"Fine..." I breathe out, and Kingston's jaw ticked.
"I fight in the illegal rink down town. I was up against someone yesterday who pulled a knife during the fight." I quickly speak. Hoping, no praying that Kingston didn't catch any of that.
But by the look on his face, I could tell he heard it as clear as day.
Dawson and Mason's mouths fall open as they stare at me.
"No way!" Mason nearly screeched as he ran over to me, giddy like a kid on Christmas "You're Swift Shadow aren't you!?" He asked happily.
My eyes widen slightly as I nod "Uh—yeah. I am" he hopped around in a circle clapping.
I'm so confused.
"I'm...confused." I spoke but it came out more of a question.
Dawson looked over at Kingston "Your boy toy here knows the guy who owns that rink." He said, a smile playing at his lips.
What!?
"He what!?" I almost yelled. Kingston looked up at me, "I can't believe that's you. You're the crazy talented girl who fights on weekdays." He mumbled to himself, but the anger in his eyes didn't fade.
"You're banned from the ring." He declared and I gasped at him. "What!? No!" I protest but his eyes that were set aflame made me sink back some "I'm not allowing you to get hurt. End of discussion." He snaps at me.
I cross my arms across my chest. This isn't fair. "You can't do that! You aren't the owner.", Kingston looks up at me, his eyes hooded slightly. He covers ground quickly as he makes his way over to me "I can. And I will. You won't be getting into another fight there.", my mouth falls open, gaping at him.
"Fine. I'll just find some other ring." I decide and Kingston growled out in annoyance.
That's fucking hot.
"If you want a rink to fight in come to my house. Just don't go street fighting." He demands sternly.
Dawson nods, "I agree with Kingston."
Mason licks his lips, "Yeah. Ain't no way we can have you getting hurt princess."
Kingston smacked him in the stomach, Mason doubled over and groaned slightly.
"But I don't even know where you live!" I try, but they all smirked.
Oh fuck me. What's with the smirking!?
"Are you doing anything after school bookworm?" Kingston asked.
I nod my head, "Yeah, I'm going to the library—"
"No your not. You're coming with me bookworm. To my place. After school."
And it wasn't a request.
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