Spitfire in Love

Spit

Cameron

"Shit."

I looked up to the bright morning sky, closed my eyes as the heat of the sun pounded against my lids. I tried to find my calm. Counted to five. Didn't work. Forming my hand into a fist, I bit into my knuckle.

There was a deep gouge on the fender of my motorcycle.

A quick inspection and I found more scratches all over the side fairing, and the engine cover was completely busted. Hit and run, I thought, grinding my teeth. Someone or something had definitely crashed into my bike, and whoever hit it took the time to put it upright before fleeing the scene.

Thank you very much, motherfucker.

I crouched in front of it, stroking the once smooth surface now all banged up. I've had this ride for so long it felt like an extension of my body. It was like a son to me.

Someone was going to pay.

I stood up slowly, my anger so close to the edge. When my phone rang, I grabbed it like a lifeline.

"Yeah?"

"Hey, Cam."

It was Caleb.

"Yeah."

I tamped down the anger and tried to concentrate on what he was saying.

"You know it completely slipped my mind," he began. He sounded like he just woke up. "It's not Saturday today, is it?"

I couldn't resist rubbing the spot where the scratches were, hoping they'd disappear. "You're such a genius."

"I hear that all the time." He paused. "Give me a ride to school?"

"You dying?"

"Don't think so."

I blew out a breath when I spotted a rip on the leather seat. "Then no. I'm not giving you a ride."

"My bike's at the shop."

Where mine was going to be very soon.

He cleared his throat. "And I left my car at the club last night. Took a cab this morning."

He sounded guilty. That meant he had slept at some girl's house again, took a cab to get back to his place and didn't bother picking up his car.

"I changed my mind," he drawled. "I am dying and—"

Whatever he was saying was drowned out by a series of horn honks blaring behind me. I turned around just in time to see a beat-up Honda Civic heading toward me like a bat out of hell.

I yelled, jumping back to avoid getting clipped and hitting my bike with my foot in the process. I could only yell as I watched my motorcycle fall to the ground with a loud crash.

There was a sound of metal bouncing against stone just to my right.

It was my side mirror.

My mouth opened in horror, but nothing came out.

All I could do was watch as the Civic came to a full stop, brakes screeching like a banshee, two houses down across from my place. It idled there for a few seconds before it reversed like a jet to the house in front of mine.

I could feel my body bracing for a fight, my anger so close I could taste it.

What came out of it was a tall, willowy brunette ready for war. She was wearing some sort of uniform-a green dress shirt and slacks, her long honey brown hair down to her back, and marched to the front door like she was going to give someone a Come-to-Jesus talk.

She pressed the doorbell incessantly, and when that wasn't answered after ten seconds, she started banging the door with her fists.

Spitfire, was what came to mind. What a spitfire.

I had been living in my place for a couple of years now, but I stayed to myself and especially stayed away from my neighbors. People didn't interest me. Why complicate life?

I had no idea who lived there but I was sure she wanted to decimate and eat that poor person for breakfast.

The door finally opened and an old frail man with a cane came out. He looked like he'd be toppled over by a gust of wind. He was wearing a checkered shirt with suspenders and boxers, like he had forgotten to put on his pants before answering the door. Not surprising since it was still too early in the morning.

What in the hell could be her business with the poor old timer?

I could tell she wasn't expecting him to open the door. She stepped back, hesitant. I couldn't hear their words, but she seemed to be apologizing. And then the old man pointed at the house next door.

She must have gotten the wrong house then.

I couldn't help but laugh.

Looking contrite, she walked away with her head bowed low. When she raised it again, the look in her eyes had transformed from penance to billowing fire. Interesting.

She was tall and gangly, no curves on her body. I couldn't see her features clearly but from what I could, they were plain: nondescript eyes, small, straight nose, pale pink lips. But her hair was something else. It was thick and shiny, and in the sunlight, shades of honey gold mixed with the brown.

She wasn't my type, of that I was sure of. So why was I so completely, so unquestionably fascinated with her?

She clenched her fists as if she was itching to punch someone. Her walk was purposeful, deliberately intimidating to whomever unlucky bastard caught her anger.

She might not be a classic beauty, but it was hard to tell from the distance. All I knew was that she commanded attention like nuns on a hunger strike.

I couldn't help the smile that split my lips. I wanted to see this.

Her eyes briefly connected with mine, and I swear to God my whole body jolted. I knew that I would never forget this moment for the rest of my life. My whole body froze, scared that if I moved I'd realize this was all a dream.

Before she could hit the doorbell, someone called out from the side of the house. She froze, then turned with painful slowness toward that someone I still had yet to look at. My eyes were solely trained on the spitfire.

She was mesmerizing and terrifying like a big tidal wave in the middle of the ocean where your lifeboat was floating in peace. She would appear out of nowhere, swallow you whole and obliterate every sign of you on earth.

That was how powerful this girl captured my attention.

Her mouth moved, upper lip curling into a sneer. She shouted something unintelligible, and I wanted to see more, hear more. My mind was unconsciously moving my body toward her. I've never been in a trance before, but I thought this was how it felt like.

I didn't have to move far because she started to walk down the driveway toward her target, still shouting, hands flailing with temper.

Did I really think she was plain? I thought, staring at her unabashedly.

She was magnificent. Strong. Powerful.

Her eyes were glowing like fiery embers, beaming deathly daggers.

"You f*****g piranha," she snarled. I glanced quickly away from her to see who she was chewing into pieces and I stopped cold when I realized who or what it was. It was a monster. The guy was as wide as a house, neck as big and thick as her torso. Tall and hairy as Chewbacca.

What the hell is she doing? Does she have a death wish?

I was going to come and help her out, wondering how in the blue hell I was going to fight this motherfucker. He was heavy so he'd be slow and I could use his weight against him. I'd probably lose a couple of my teeth and get my nose broken by the end of the day.

She drilled a finger into his chest, shouting in his face. "Remember the guy you harassed earlier, the one who came here to collect your car repair bill? That's my brother, you fuckwad dingle d**k!"

She didn't look like she needed my help. The guy stepped back and raised his hands in defense. He looked like he was willing to take her crap to get a chance to check her out.

I gritted my teeth. Should I interrupt? She didn't look like she was in danger. I leaned against a parked car on the street across from them, alert and watching. It would only take me about five seconds to jump in the middle of them if needed.

"Listen here, sweet t**s, your brother owes me money. You're not getting a dime out of me!"

She narrowed her eyes at him, as if she'd like to squish him like an insect. "Listen here carefully, potato face, because I'm not repeating myself. What's between you and my brother has nothing to do with what you owe our business establishment. You're gonna have to pucker up and spring me some money right now or else you won't like the consequences."

He sneered, puffing up his chest. "Do you really think a little twig like you can scare me?"

I felt my body go on full alert. I pushed away from the car, ready to attack him if he made a wrong move. That movement caused him to finally notice me. I placed my hands in my pockets, staring at him. He looked away.

"Oh, probably not." she shot back. "But clearly but from what I could, they were plain: nondescript eyes, small, straight nose, pale pink lips. But her hair was something else. It was thick and shiny, and in the sunlight, shades of honey gold mixed with the brown.

She wasn't my type, of that I was sure of. So why was I so completely, so unquestionably fascinated with her?

She clenched her fists as if she was itching to punch someone. Her walk was purposeful, deliberately intimidating to whomever unlucky bastard caught her anger.

She might not be a classic beauty, but it was hard to tell from the distance. All I knew was that she commanded attention like nuns on a hunger strike.

I couldn't help the smile that split my lips. I wanted to see this.

Her eyes briefly connected with mine, and I swear to God my whole body jolted. I knew that I would never forget this moment for the rest of my life. My whole body froze, scared that if I moved I'd realize this was all a dream.

Before she could hit the doorbell, someone called out from the side of Tires squealing, she peeled out of the driveway, crushing the two lawn gnomes that were happily sitting on the corner of his front yard. There was a loud popping noise over her screeching tires as she ground the gears back into first.

I watched as the broken head of one of the porcelain figures bounced across the street and roll to a full stop by my feet.

I looked up, eyes fixated on the little Honda as it zipped down the street and turned the corner until it disappeared out of my sight.

Wow. Just... wow.

I had to see her again... or die.

But first, I had something to take care of. I pressed the doorbell and waited outside Dingledick's porch. His face was confrontational as he opened the door, but cleared when he spotted me.

He must have been expecting her. I suppressed my smile.

"Hey," he said, blocking the doorway from me.

I didn't blame him. People were usually

wary of me. My best friend Caleb said it was my size. I towered over almost everybody. I was lean, and working out at the gym and doing demolitions for a friend filled me out. He also said, "Sometimes when you turn all quiet and dark, you get this look that freak people out. You look at them as if you're assessing them and you can see right through them. You're not afraid and that makes you unpredictable. That freaks people out. It's really cool. Like Batman, bro."

The truth was I knew how cruel and ugly people could be behind the masks they show the world. I also knew how to be like them when needed. And I despised it. Maybe that was why I was so drawn to her. She didn't hide anything. She was so... real.

"You're the guy who lives across the street, right? The one with the cool ass bike."

"Yeah."

He scratched his head. "Look, man, I don't want no trouble."

I nodded, trying to appear friendly. "I figured. See my bike out there?" I pointed with my thumb over my shoulder.

He shifted. His eyes bugged out as he spotted my bike. "Son of a b***h. What happened?"

I gave him the saddest look I could muster. "She happened."

His jaw fell open. "You mean she did

that?"

I looked at him solemnly. Not agreeing, not denying. Well, technically she did. "I may have forgotten to pay my bill."

He sighed, scratched his beard. "It was just a hundred and thirty bucks, man."

I shrugged. What a piece of s**t. "Mine

was only fifty."

"Well, shit." I could see the wheels in his head turning. "I really don't want no trouble. My old lady will be back tomorrow."

"I heard this other guy owed her money and she phoned his work, his parents, his grandparents, his girlfriend, his neighbors a few times a day. She stalked him everywhere he went until he cracked and paid."

He looked horrified. "Well, shit." He hung his head. "I guess I better pay that bill."

My mind was too busy thinking about her that it wasn't until I was on my way to the gym when I realized I had no idea where she worked. I could ask Dingledick, but then I'd blow my cover and he might not pay her at all.

Son of a b***h. How the hell was I going to find her?

My phone vibrated as I was storing my things in the gym locker. It was my dad. Automatically, as if my brain was conditioned by it, my body braced for a fight. Resentment whirled in my chest. What the hell did he want now? I ignored it, slamming the locker door closed. I didn't know how long I stood there, brooding, sucking me back to that hateful place, before I shook my head to clear it. I headed to the pool.

It was still too early so I had the pool to myself. Just the way I liked it. Alone.

I adjusted my swim goggles, raised my arms and did a good long stretch before I dove in the water. As soon as the water surrounded me, muting the sound of everything, I started to relax.

I cut through the water, and an image of her flitted in my head. I smiled.

Her eyes had that upward tilt at the corners. I felt sudden regret that I wasn't close enough to see the color of them. The sun was too bright, making them transparent. They could've been green or brown, I couldn't be sure.

And her legs. Jesus. That girl had long, long legs. I wondered what they'd look like in a skirt. Or tight jeans.

She was fearless, and reckless confronting a man four times her size. I pushed off the pool wall, did another lap, laughed as I remembered her driving over those garden gnomes, and choked on pool water.

When I got my breath back, I continued my lap.

Was it really a surprise that I was drawn to her? Most of the people in my life bottled everything up, until their resentments and disappointments started to spill over, poisoning everything around them. Most of my life I lived in it, until it was all I knew. Until a part of me turned out to be exactly like it. And I despised it.

And myself.

I reached the wall, pushed off and did another lap. And another. And another.

After a quick shower, I quickly pulled on my black shirt and pants, hiked up my boots. Swinging my backpack behind me, I grabbed my phone and headed out to the gym parking lot.

"Hey, cutie," I heard a girl holler behind me. I kept walking.

"Damn," I muttered under my breath as quick Google search of car repair shops in the city of Esther Falls produced more than a hundred. How was I supposed to find her?

I filtered my search to just the businesses around my area and narrowed it down considerably. Thinned it out some more by searching family owned. I figured since she personally came to collect the bill from Dingledick, her family probably owned the business. Maybe, maybe not.

Was I really going to search every damned shop to find her? What the hell was I doing?

I needed to get my bike fixed anyway so it was killing two birds with one stone. I was being practical. No BFD.

The thought of my broken bike was starting to piss me off. I still had yet to find out who did it. There would be hell to pay, I thought as I hopped in my car and drove to campus.

The temperature had dropped a little, so I cracked my window open to let the cool breeze inside my car. I turned the radio on and cranked up the volume.

I wondered what it would be like to have her in the car with me. I had a picture of her standing up through the sunroof. The grin on my face felt stupid, but I really didn't care.

I parked my car, considered staying in it for a few minutes until lunch break was over. I didn't like crowds and avoided them like the plague, but I was feeling thirsty after my workout and needed to hydrate.

I took the stairs two at a time then turned the corner toward the cafeteria to get a drink. When I spotted the crowd in the hallway, I slowed down and didn't bother hiding my annoyance. I'd rather be somewhere else right now.

I dug my earphones in my backpack, and

when that took too long to find, gave up and kept walking. I wondered if Caleb was on campus now. I might not have given him a ride to school, but that guy could easily get anyone of his girls to pick him up. He was usually in the hallway with the team or in one of the lounge areas with girls.

I scanned the place, looking for him. And froze. It was her-spitfire! I was about to do a double take when I felt so eone pull my pants down from behind me. I caught the top of my pants just in time and whirled around.

"You f*****g asshole," I barked, watching as Caleb dissolved in laughter.

I punched him on the arm and turned back around. But she was gone.

I swear I saw her.

"Cheapo," Caleb said. "Thanks for not picking me up. 'Appreciate it, bro."

Was that really her or was my mind playing tricks on me? Man, did I have it bad. I blew out a breath, shaking my head at the ridiculousness of it all.

"Who're you looking for?" Caleb asked. He placed his hands in his pockets. leaning against the locker as he tilted his head and studied me. He usually did that when he was trying to figure out something.

I shrugged.

"Hm. That's an 8," he said appreciatively as a blonde passed by and smiled at him. Caleb had a thing for blondes.

We usually did this to pass the time, but I wasn't in the mood for it today. Not when she was still in my head.

What the hell was happening to me?

"Need some Gatorade. Be right—" I paused when my phone rang. It was my dad. Again. I let out a long breath.

Caleb gave me a knowing look. "Your dad?"

I nodded grimly, staring at my phone.

"You going to answer it?"

I balled my hand into a fist and bit my knuckle. f**k it.

"Yeah," I answered.

There was a pause before my dad spoke.

"You might want to answer your phone more politely than that, less people think your mother didn't raise you properly."

There was disappointment in his voice. As usual.

"She didn't," I said.

He scoffed. "How's your friend Rick doing these days?" His tone was condescending. "Is he still begging people for money?"

We both knew he was trying to get a rise out of me. How badly it affected me when he talked about Rick that way. Rick had been there for me when everyone had left.

"Nothing to say?"

I gritted my teeth and said as calmly as I could, "Why don't you tell me why you called?" So we can both move on with our lives.

"Just checking up on you, see how you're doing with your studies."

"Don't act like a parent now. It doesn't suit you."

He chuckled, but not with humor. It was patronizing. A parent talking to an errant child. "Your mother called. I need you to see her again and calm her down so she can stop harassing me."

"No."

I hung up, closed my eyes, and pressed my fingers to them. I couldn't remember when the last time I'd seen my mother, just that it didn't go well. My father didn't want to deal with her and would always pass her off to me.

I could feel my mind shutting down, feel the anger taking over me. I needed to walk it off, do something before I exploded.

"Hey, Cameron."

A flirty voice. I opened my eyes and found Lydia standing in front of me.

"You free tonight, Cam?" she asked, batting her lashes at me suggestively. "My parents won't be home and—"

I reached for her wrist. "I'm free now," I answered. "Let's go."

A/N: Ugh. My heart. My soul. Please make me smile and vote by clicking the star at the bottom of your screen!