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Clutching the side of her muddy skirt with one hand, and balancing the rugby ball in the other, she looked around, eyes wild.
Her attention landed on the ball in her hands and then shifted back to my face.
A glazed-over sort of fury blazed in her eyes as she half staggered, half stalked toward me.
Her hair was a total mess, tumbling loosely down her small shoulders, with pieces of mud and grass caked to the tendrils.
When she reached me, she slapped the ball against my chest and hissed, “Is this your ball?”
I was so struck down by the sight of this tiny mud-covered girl that I just nodded like a fucking eejit.
Jesus Christ, who was this girl?
Clearing my throat, I took the ball from her and said, “Uh, yeah. It’s my ball.”
She was tiny, seriously fucking small, barely reaching my chest in height.
“You owe me a skirt,” she growled, still clutching the fabric by her hip. “And a pair of tights,” she added, glancing down at the huge ladder in her skin-colored tights.
Her gaze roamed over her body, then landed on my face, eyes narrowed.
“Okay,” I replied with a nod, because in all honesty what the hell else was I supposed to say?
“And an apology,” the girl added before collapsing on the ground.
She landed heavily on her ass and grunted out a small cry from the contact.
“Oh, shite,” I muttered. Tossing the ball away, I moved to help her. “I didn’t mean to—”
“Stop!” Again, she batted my hands away. “Ouch,” she moaned, cringing when she spoke. Reaching up, she clutched her face with both hands and breathed heavily. “My head.”
“Are you okay?” I demanded, unsure of what the fuck to do.
Should I pick her up against her wishes?
It didn’t seem like a good idea.
But I couldn’t exactly leave her here.
“Johnny!” Coach was bellowing. “Is she alright? Did you hurt her?”
“She’s grand,” I called back, wincing when a hiccupping sound tore from her chest. “You’re grand, aren’t you?”
This girl was going to get me into trouble. I was in enough trouble as it stood. Almost decapitating the girl wasn’t going to look good for me.
“Why’d you do that?” she whispered, clutching her small face in her even smaller hands. “You hurt me.”
“I’m sorry,” I repeated. I felt oddly helpless, and it was a feeling I didn’t like. “I didn’t mean to.”
She sniffled then, blue eyes watering, and something inside of me snapped.
Ah, shite.
Horrified, I threw my hands up and blurted out, “I’m so sorry,” before crouching down and scooping her up from the grass. “Christ,” I muttered, helpless, as I set her on her feet. “Don’t cry.”
“It’s my first day,” she sniffled, swaying on her feet. “My fresh start and I’m covered in shit.”
She was covered in shit.
