A/N- So, it's been a really long time since I started and updated my stories. This year I'm getting back to work and finishing everything I began. This is an edit with new content in spots. There were 6 chapters up before, but since this is a semi-reboot, I'm starting the new posts with chapter four (although, you should probably reread from the beginning anyway because of other changes) I don't have a beta, so if there are mistakes, I'm sorry and I will fix them when I find them. Sorry for the wait, and thank you all for reading. Apr '15

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Chapter One

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"What is your issue? Are you stupid or just deaf?"

Generally, I don't have a problem with most people. But this guy, Simon-whatever-his-fucking-face-is, is seriously starting to piss me off. When he first sat in front of me at the beginning of the year, I made the mistake of thinking he was kind of hot. But I swear to Christ― he picks on me. Like full fledged second grade bullshit― and you know what? Bitchy trumps pretty any day.

"No," I say, closing the window, "clearly you are the one lacking common sense. It's like fifteen degrees outside!" Yes. Today we are arguing over a damn window.

"And it's like a hundred degrees in here," he snaps. I place both hands on the window when he makes a move to open it again. Giving a grunt of frustration he whips around, dark grey eyes narrowing as he closes the gap between us. I'm not exactly short but he's definitely got, oh say... five inches on me. He's hovering, using every last one of those inches in an attempt to intimidate me. "Move."

I stare right back at him, my response a firm, "No."

"Fine."

For a few seconds I actually believe I've won the battle. I celebrate my small victory as he turns back to his seat. But instead of sitting down, he leans over to the seat behind him― my seat, and grabs the stack of books sitting on top of my desk. "Dude! What the hell do you think you're―"

He hurls the first textbook across the classroom. Then the second goes sailing right after it. I can only stand there, my jaw slack, as he continues to throw my stuff to the other side of the room. He even throws my pen. Even my fucking pen! What a douche bag.

"Are... Are you kidding me?" I say in disbelief. "Did you seriously just chuck my stuff across the room? This isn't fucking kindergarten!" I grit out from between my teeth. I can feel my neck beginning to flush, half out of anger and half out of embarrassment. The teacher hasn't arrived yet, but all the students who have are staring. This isn't exactly how I planned on starting my day. First period is off to a fantastic start.

The corners of his mouth quirk upward into a smirk. Our noses are almost touching when he leans down once more. "Fetch."

I glare at him for a moment, but turn my back to go retrieve my books. Most of the people in the room are snickering by now. Whatever. If he thinks I've given up, he's got another thing coming. As I'm collecting my belongings my best friend chooses to make his entrance, almost tripping over me in the process. I stand up, smacking the stack to his chest before he can even open his mouth.

"Good, you're here― hold this for me? Thanks," I say all in one rush. With my books safe I head back to my desk, hearing a bemused, 'What the fuck?', as I trudge back toward the window.

I'll explain to Cody later. Right now? It. Is. On.

Simon, or whatever his name is, is leaning with his back against the window. He turns around, bracing his hands against the window as I reach up to shut it. "Give it up. It's staying open."

Ha! That's what you think. You want schoolyard? Oh, are you going to get it. Flattening one palm to the pane I swing my elbow to the right, jabbing him in the ribs with enough force to make his hands slip. He grunts, the window squealing down a few centimeters. One point for Kirby. Struggling to regain his grip, he uses his leg to try and push me away. I bring my leg up too. Snap kick!

BOO-YAH! His knees buckle, winning me another few inches.

"Jesus" he cries. "STOP!"

"Not until you close the goddamn window!" I snarl back.

The battle royale continues until I finally reach a breaking point. In my frustration I kick just a tiny bit harder than I mean to. A howl of pain escapes as my foot decimates his knee cap, causing him to release the window. The next thing I hear is the sound of the window thudding shut and this sickening crack.

His eyes widen. "Son of a― FUCK!"

Oh... shit. One of his hands didn't make it away from the window.

"My hand! Holy shiii― FUCK!"

Oh shit.

"Why are you just standing there? OPEN THE FUCKING WINDOW!"

…Aha ha ha. And the argument comes full circle. In a way that's kind of funny. Is this irony? I'm not too sure.

My amusement must have shown on my face because he shouts, "It's not fucking funny, asshole! My hand― is still in― THE WINDOW!"

I hesitate. Not because I don't want to help him, but because I fear that my head will replace his hand if I do. Don't misunderstand me... I am not a timid person. Nor am I a mean one. I just think that my chances for a rather sudden death might be a bit higher right now.

He gives a broken whimper. "Please... oh, god."

Might be smarter to help though. Deciding to step forward, I place my hands to the window and force it back up. He yanks the abused appendage away as soon as he can, glowering at me as if I would slam the window back down just for kick Jeez, I'm not that sadistic. He cradles his hand to his chest, taking an unsteady step toward his seat. Simon is beginning to look a little woozy.

"I, uh..." I start to say, knowing that I should apologize. "Um, sorry. It was an accident."

He glares bloody murder at me, opening his mouth just as Mr. Baker decides to walk in. "Gentleman, please have a seat. Class is about to begin."

It finally strikes me that the entire class had watched the whole thing unfold. My eyes dart around the room, passing over the twenty-some-odd eyes staring at us. A forced cough breaks the silence. "Mr. Baker, I think Simon may need to go to the nurse." Good ol' Cody.

The chalk scraping across the board pauses as our English teacher turns to evaluate the student in question. "Is that true? Are you feeling okay?"

A pair of stormy eyes slide my way. He's definitely debating whether or not he should sell me out. I pray that he doesn't. I wait, my future hinging on whatever words come out of his mouth next.

"My hand got caught in the window as I was closing it. I think I should go get it checked out."

I blink. That's it? Really? No naming names or claims of assault? Fuckin' sweet. Maybe he's not so bad after all.

"Very well, go to the nurse's office."

Feeling completely and utterly relieved, I turn to go back to my seat. As I slip onto the frigid plastic, something else sends shivers down my spine. He's smiling. A very creepy kind of smile. One of those I'm-going-to-suffocate-you-with-a-pillow-while-you-sleep kind of smiles. Which I somehow wouldn't doubt. Note to self: Make sure to keep all of the doors and windows locked at all times. I try to keep my head down as Simon walks past my desk.

As he moves by, my ears catch, "You're fucking dead."

―

Of course by lunch time everyone had heard that Kirby had broken Simon's hand. Even if they didn't exactly knew who we were. So, sometimes it was more like, 'Hey, did you hear some kid broke this dude's hand?'. Although, I don't know for sure that his hand is broken. Based on the angle of his fingers when they were in the window, it would be a pretty safe assumption― but still. We don't know for sure.

Cody, apparently, finds the entire thing absolutely hysterical. He's cackling like some sort of mad scientist plotting world domination. I'm not so sure I share his opinion. I express this.

"Dude, you broke his hand," he says, grinning from ear to ear. "How is that not funny?"

"I don't know," I mumble, stuffing my peanut butter and banana sandwich into my mouth. Mm. Yum. If you've never tried the combo― you should. It's the shit. "Maybe because the fact that he threatened my life afterwards makes it a little less 'ha ha' and a little more 'son of a bitch'?"

He rolls his eyes. "Don't worry, pookie duck. I'll protect you."

I stare at him. "Pookie duck? What the hell kind of nickname is that?"

"One I created just for my little dumpling."

It was my turn to roll my eyes. Cody is well aware of the fact that I'm gay. Technically, everyone that knows me is. No one really seems to care all that much. Or at least those who do don't really say anything. As for Cody, it seems like that somehow translated into me being his perpetual damsel in distress. Or a little sister to coo at. I think he just can't resist an opportunity to tease me. I told him I was gay our sophomore year, and the nicknames haven't stopped since. But seriously? Pookie duck? Dumpling? At the end of the day, I'm seventeen and I don't have tits. "Cody, I've told you a thousand times. I'm gay. Not female. Not seven. And I'm pretty sure if it ever came down to a fight, I'd be protecting you."

"While what you say may be true, it's only because it would be a tragedy for a face this pretty to get ruined," he says, running his fingers along his cheek.

"You're killing me, Code."

"With my good looks? I hear it's more blinding than it is deadly."

I half cough, half laugh into my water bottle as I bring it to my mouth. I swallow a gulp of water, before tightening the small plastic lid back onto it. "I acknowledge your ethereal beauty. But you're still not my type."

"Pssh, you know you want me."

"Uh huh."

Truthfully, Cody really isn't bad looking. In fact, he is well above the average bar. That's what helps him get away with half of the shit he does. He just isn't my taste. Cody's been dying his hair for so long, I've actually lost track of what his natural hair color is. My eyes flicker over the fairly long strands of platinum, almost white hair. It looks good and all, but I've always been about the tall dark and handsome― not the bold, edgy, and too pretty for a guy, kind of thing. I'm attracted to things like cowboys. Mm. Cowboys.

"Kirby curb?"

"What?"

"You've got this glazed look in your eyes... and you're drooling."

"No, I'm not," I say, even though I check my face with my hand anyway.

He gives an exaggerated sigh. "I know, I drool too when I think of me naked."

I scoff. "You wish."

"So, I hear you broke someone's hand," Ray calls as he and Sammy walk up to the table. They plop themselves down onto the bench, both pairs of eyes moving to me.

Delicate fingers tuck a honey blonde strand behind her ear, our friend Sammy's eyebrows lifting in question. "Why does all the good stuff happen during the classes I'm not in?"

"Because they're too stupid to be in our classes," Ray replies, which earns the middle finger from Cody.

"You're in one more AP class than we are. That doesn't make you a genius," Cody says in response.

"Yes, I do believe it does."

"Then don't worry about eating with us peons," I remark dryly. "We might lower your I.Q. if you spend too much time with us."

"So, seriously, what happened?" Sammy says, steering the conversation back to its original topic.

"We were arguing over a window and this guy Simon's hand was in the way," I say, summing it up as quickly as possible. "But god fucking damn it, he deserved it. He's been a complete ass all year for absolutely no reason."

"This is true," Cody affirms. "I've witnessed it myself."

"Maybe he likes you," Sammy supplies, pulling open a bag of potato chips.

"Or maybe," I begin, drawing out each word, "he hates me."

Cody laughs. "Yeah, I'm with Kirb on this one. I think the guy just has it out for him, Sam."

"Hey― you never know," she insists, popping one of the crisp snacks into her mouth. She allows herself to crunch through it before speaking again. "I'm just sayin'... it's possible."

"Right." I don't believe that for a second.

For the rest of lunch I try to keep the subject away from Simon. I'm honestly sick of talking about it. Besides, I'm sure I'll have plenty more to talk about when he gets back to school.

―

The next day Simon shows up to school with a cast. Yikes. Okay, I might feel a smidgen of guilt. But not much. As soon as I arrive to class I'm on guard. The thought of revenge is probably on his mind, and I should probably be ready for it. Needless to say, I'm taken aback by the smile Simon offers as I take my seat. He even chirps a, 'Good morning'. It's weird. Suspicious. I don't like it.

I wait all throughout English for the ambush to come. Nothing. I'm still waiting as the rest of the day goes by. But still, nothing. Am I really wrong about this? I mean, it's kind of strange to go from bickering over a window to amicable classmates overnight. Especially when you consider the circumstances.

"Maybe he's scared of you now. You know, because you broke his hand and all," Cody says as we leave our last class. "Or maybe he's finally tired of being a dickwad."

"I don't know," I say doubtfully, trailing him down the hallway. "It just doesn't seem right."

He shrugs. "Don't think about it too much. It's probably nothing."

It's nothing? I doubt that too. "Okay."

We follow our usual routine, stopping at my locker first and then his. I still can't shake the feeling that something is off. There's no way it can be this easy. He wouldn't just leave it at that... would he? I broke his goddamn hand.

"Do you feel like getting something to eat?" Cody says, interrupting my musings as we walk out of the building.

"Oh yeah, sure."

"Burgers?"

"Whatever."

He nods, striding through the parking lot towards his car. I follow him, eventually coming to a stop beside the black Hyundai. I watch as he slips into driver's side, waiting for him to unlock the door for me.

I hear the tell-tale click, and you know― perhaps I should have seen this coming. When I open the door, a chuckle comes from behind me. With no other warning, the car door slams shut with a loud thunk.

Cody's eyes are as round as saucers, his mouth hanging open in shock. I'm sure my expression mirrors the same thing.

No sound comes out as I continue to stare at my hand, wedged in between the closed car door. Oh god, I'm beginning to feel light headed.

"Sorry, it was an accident."

The snide words barely break my consciousness because the pain is beginning to sear up my arm.

I scream.