Miss Naughtie Two-Shoes and the Rebel

Chapter 7

"You piece of sh*t!”

Trae grabs a fist of Roy’s collar then lands bare knuckles squarely on his jaw, sending him reeling to the curb and bringing along with him a tall garbage bin with a day’s worth of trash. Damn, that felt good. All the tension in his shoulders, gone.

Roy lays in a heap – fruit peels, soda cans, crumpled paper and all kinds of nasties scattered under, over and around him. Cupping his chin, Roy rolls his jaw sideways. Nothing’s popped or unhinged.

Trae rubs his reddened knuckles as he circles him. The blow could not have been enough to clean up his act, but it sure wiped the smirk off his face. He sizes him up. No time to get cocky, Roy is not a tiny man. In fact, he’s a good two inches taller and maybe a couple more wider than him. He’s captain of the school’s basketball team. But he doesn’t give a flying f**k.

And then Roy’s doing it again. He glances up at him with the same smug smile plastered on his face. That smile again. He feels the familiar churn of anger rise up from his gut. Gritting his teeth, he grabs him by his shoulder ready to pounce on him again. But Roy suddenly lunges at him and they both fall down in a pile of limbs on the ground.

They wrestled until Trae sees an opening and head-butts Roy. Dizzied, Roy runs a hand over his face. His hand instantly gets soaked with the blood gushing out of a deep cut in his eyebrow. Furious, he throws wild punches at Trae that he easily dodges.

Huffing and blinded with rage, Trae pushes him with every inch of his strength. Roy rolls on his back on the scorched cemented road, disoriented. The blood stinging his eyes and blocking his view. He struggles under Trae’s weight as he straddles him. Trae begins to pummel him with his fists, sending each blow with a message. “This… is… for… Chloe… you… sick… bastard…”

Feeling like his face is going to cave in from the relentless assault, Roy desperately grabs for something. A used sanitary pad. An apple core. A bottle! He grips the bottle by the neck and swings it with all his might into Trae’s head. He then shoves him off of his body, still holding the jagged fragment like a weapon.

Smashing into the side of his head, the bottle breaks into sharp pieces flying in all directions. He feels his scalp rip but all he can think of are the many times his mom told him off for being too hard-headed.

Feeling the surge of adrenaline pump up his nerves, Roy springs to his feet and lumbers toward Trae, with a glint of menace in his eyes. He raises the shard of glass high up in the air, the sharp edges aimed at Trae’s neck. But before he can drive it through the soft target, he loses his grip as something hard hits his head. The ghost of a female voice flits in the air before everything turns black.

“Trae!” Her hands are shaking violently and her heart is thrashing in her chest. She came just in the nick of time. The man was about to stab Trae with half of a broken bottle so she walloped the man’s head with her helmet before he could strike and injure Trae. She passed by them brawling in a secluded area in the campus and doubled back when she recognized Trae. “Trae, are you okay?”

Compared to Roy, Trae seems in a whole lot better condition. His eyes dart off from Roy to Andy, narrowing into a confused expression. When Trae has pieced together what exactly happened, he spits at Roy, splayed out on the pavement bloodied and shell-shocked, before kicking the shard of glass away from him.

“Drive.” His voice is stern and exacting.

“What?”

“Let’s get out of here.”

“But what about him?” She stammers as she puts her helmet back on. Her words just fall on deaf ears as she tries to knock some sense into him. Grunting, she hops on her bike and Trae immediately gets on behind her.

Andy shuts her shield close, surveying the trickle of students on either side of the road. There is no way they can leave the campus unnoticed. She might as well kiss her precious anonymity goodbye.

“Hold on.” She twists the throttle and guns her engine. The bike shudders at the sudden acceleration. Her heart racing, she tries to ignore the pair of arms that finds its way along the circle of her waist. Focus on the road, Andy. They zoom past the students - tagging along in small groups, others alone - zipping through air with the maximum speed she can squeeze from her meager 50cc bike.

For twenty minutes, they’ve been cruising along the white coastline of St. Claire just outside the city. And all this time, she labors to breathe and her heart is thumping, acutely aware of Trae’s body against her. His head on her shoulder. His arms around her waist. His breath on her neck.

She shouts on the top of her lungs. “Where are we going?” Only for the words to get muffled in the strong breeze coming in from the sea. Finally deciding that the whole trip is pointless, she pulls to the side then into an abandoned jetty that juts out a good hundred feet from the shoreline. She switches off the engine and pockets her keys.

“Why did you stop?” Trae groans as he untangles himself from Andy. He’s obviously enjoying it. The remnants of the hate-fueled debacle that he instigated himself are all but dust in the air now. And he wants that kind of tranquility again – sun on his skin, wind in his face and Andy in his hands. Free from guilt. Free from dark thoughts. He gets off the bike reluctantly when Andy nudges her with her shoulder.

“Where are we going?” Andy asks, her patience waning. When she gets no answer from him, she yells, “Why did you have to drag me into this?” She pauses, realizing that she came with him on her own free will, and curses herself for it. Struggling to keep her voice calm, she continues to probe, “Why did we have to run?”

There’s no one to blame but herself. Knowing she had the choice to do the right thing but didn’t. And asking herself why. She wasn’t coerced and her hesitation was feeble and short-lived at best. She just had to say no. But she inches on, “What are we even running from?”

“Myself!” He cries out. “We’re running because I am this close to killing someone.” The afternoon sun slips through the thin gap between Trae’s fingers where he shows her the dangerous line between himself and murder.

“If you’re not dead first.” Andy snaps back, the last of her patience slipping away. “Jesus, Trae, had I not been too nosy and barge in there just in time, no one’s getting killed but you.”

“Well, maybe you shouldn’t have poked your head into people’s business. We wouldn’t have this conversation in the first place.”

Andy scoffs, “Thank you sounds nice.” Playing the scenes over in her head, panic washes over her like a bucket of ice-cold water. “This doesn’t look good. I bashed the guy’s head. After you beat him to a pulp. That makes me an accomplice.” Feeling like her knees are going to give way, she sits on one of the concrete bollards with a hand cupping her forehead, as though checking herself for fever. “God, what have I done? Do I have a bounty on my head now? Am I going to be arrested?”

“If there’s someone who should be going to jail, it’s him.”

“Humor me, Trae. The guy looks like he needs reconstructive surgery.” She c***s him a disappointed look.

“Serves him right.”

“God, why did I let you talk me into this. We’re not f**king Bonnie and Clyde. We should have at least asked for help for the man. Who is he anyway?”

“Roy Dalton.”

“Roy Dalton? Of the Fighting Maroons? The Roy Dalton?” Out of breath, she searches Trae’s face and finds the answer in his wordless response. Her shoulders slump. She shakes her head in disbelief and takes gasps of thick salty air before she hyperventilate. Poised on the edge of a breakdown, she directs her gaze into the vastness of the ocean. Like a carpet of a million diamonds,. She envies the calm and stillness. Inside her, a storm is roiling.

“Did you have any idea what this could mean? Roy Dalton is the school’s star player and an athletic scholar. You could get expelled. I mean, we could get expelled. I’m going to lose my scholarship. I’d be forced to move out of town to find a public college. And you know what? All those grim prospects? They're nothing! Nothing compared to the prospect of breaking Tio’s heart.”

Trae’s heart sinks at the weight of her words and the boundless love she has for her old man. He wonders why she isn’t talking about her mom or dad instead. And acknowledges he knows so little about her. When s**t hits the fan, she is in as much trouble as he is. All for saving his life.

When Andy switches on her bike, he stands in her way. “I won’t let that happen, Andy. I promise.” She glances up at him with vacant eyes. She backs up and steers into his left to avoid him before pulling out of the jetty.

*****

“Hi, Ben. Hi, Tio.”

Andy puts down her things on one of the empty customer chairs. “What did I miss?” She quickly changes into her gray coveralls.

“How was it?” Uncle Chris shouts while hunched over the engine bay of a silver Lancer. He pulls a high-tension wire behind the engine block and the car produces a gurgling sound.

“What?” Andy shouts back. She ties her long hair in a top knot and puts on a ball cap backwards.

“How was your bike? Anything cranky?”

“Nope, it’s like nothing happened. You are a magician.” She rests her hands on the top edge of the car’s fender. “What’s the problem with this bad boy?”

“Blown gasket.” Uncle Chris wipes his hand with a grubby rag.

“Easy-peasy. Leave it to me.” Andy gathers her tools and rummages through the pile of empty containers for drip pans she can use for draining fluids before her actual work begins.

Time flies fast as she keeps her hands full the rest of the afternoon. Uncle Chris and Ben must have noticed that she’s been eerily quiet, but thankfully, they haven’t buggered her about it. On a good day, she will have them double over in laughter with her wisecracks and harmless pranks. Like she has made it her life’s mission to keep them entertained. Today is not that day.

She is almost done dismantling the cylinder head, dutifully bagging and tagging components in the process, when Trae pulls up in front of the shop. Her eyes knit in a deep frown. What is it this time? She pretends she didn’t notice him and continues what she’s doing, her hands full of grime from all the hands-on work.

“Good afternoon, Sir!” The familiar low, deep voice echoes.

“Hello, Trae. Did you come here for your invoice?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Ok, good. Come in, come in.”

From the corner of her eye, she sees Trae, tidied up and in fresh clothes, follow Uncle Chris into the office. He’s come to pay for the cost of her bike’s repair, which only took two days because Uncle Chris worked obsessively on it.

Shortly after, she hears the clatter of door as it opens and closes again. Trae exchanges some pleasantries with Uncle Chris, including the customary thank you and you’re welcome. She expects him to leave but then, he saunters toward her and her breath hitches in her throat.

“Andy, can I have a word?”

Andy lets out a slow, long sigh. “You have one minute. I’m busy.” She begins to vigorously rub the crud off an assembly part she’s holding so that her fingernails and palms are instantly stained black.

“What are you doing?” Trae watches her curiously, completely in awe of what Andy is capable of at her age. Shapeless in her coverall but sultry all the same. She has a black smudge on her face and her hands are covered in dark filth. But that doesn’t take away from her beauty.

“Replacing a head gasket.” She replies. After realizing what Trae is doing, she stops and looks Trae straight in the eye. She catches her breath. Again. And it seems like ever since she met Trae, she’s been having breathing difficulties. Especially when they’re this close to each other. “I don’t have time for chit-chats, Trae. What is it?”

Trae sucks in a gulp of air. “I know I’ve been an assh*** to you. You saved my life and I haven’t even thanked you for that. And I’m not gonna say it now because you deserve so much better than that.” He fights the urge to brush a hand against her cheeks or tuck away the stray lock of hair from her face. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you. I swear on my life and everything I hold dear, I’m going to protect you, Andy.”

His nearness makes it hard for her to pay attention to the words that come out of his mouth. For a moment, she thinks he’s going to kiss her when his gaze wanders to her lips. She closes her eyes briefly, and when she opens them, he’s gone.