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“You’re bleeding. Hold still.”
I drew in a shuddering breath. “Make him stop.”
Allison didn’t answer me and it forced my eyes closed. I felt her wiping something across my skin as sirens sounded in the distance. Fucking hell, that was becoming the school song at this point. With Clint’s fighting and Michael’s temper, they probably had the damn police on speed dial. It seemed like the entire fucking high school had gathered for this fight. And why Clint was fighting them, I could only theorize at this point. My back hurt. My wrist hurt. My head felt swimmy, and I wanted to go home.
And finally, the fight drew to a close.
I heard grunts and groans of the three guys lying on the ground. I had no idea why the hell the teachers weren’t intervening, but I figured they’d given up on this point. Given up on Clint. On his fighting. On trying to rein him in. It made my heart sick for him, but I also couldn't blame them.
“Heads up,” Allison murmured.
I felt her smooth my shirt down before a hand came into my watery view. I slowly raked my eyes up the arm, taking in the worn leather jacket before my eyes found his. Clint stood above me, concern filling his eyes. It was the only reason I took his hand, why I wanted to touch his bloody skin.
Because he genuinely looked worried.
“You’re an absolute numbskull, Clint. You know that?”
Michael’s voice filled my ears, but I was paying too much attention to Clint. His hands cupped my wrist, inspecting it before slowly turning me around. I felt him inching my shirt up before a smack resounded. I felt Clint’s hand fall away from my body, and I closed my eyes, readying my ears for the punch I knew Clint would toss Michael’s way.
But a punch didn’t happen.
“I’m just making sure she’s okay,” Clint said.
Michael scoffed. “She would’ve been fine had you not gotten into the fight in the first damn place.”
Allison sighed. “She didn’t have to follow him on the field, though.”
Michael’s voice grew louder. “You know how she feels about this asshole! Of course she would!”
And then, Clint shocked us all into silence.
“You’re right.”
I slowly turned around, trying to make sense of what I’d just heard. I gazed up into his eyes, seeing nothing but remorse filling them. I peeked over at Michael and Allison, and even they were shocked. The kids fell silent behind us, waiting for something else to happen. Waiting for the sirens in the distance to come screaming into the parking lot behind the school.
“Principal! Scatter!”
Roy’s voice boomed over everyone’s heads and Clint reached out for me. Before I could even react, he took my good hand, tugging me alongside him as he ran off. I heard Michael yelling after me. I heard Allison calling out for me. But I didn’t stop. I threaded my fingers with Clint’s and ran alongside him, despite the pain in my back.
“Fine! I’ll fucking cover for you assholes!”
I giggled and shook my head as Michael’s voice filled my ears. Clint slammed through the gate at the end of the football field, pulling me behind him. We took off for the front of the school as the principal yelled after us. I knew teachers were running for us. But I also knew they wouldn't catch us.
“You’re such an asshole, you know that? And stop pulling me, fucking hell, Clint. My wrist hurts.”
He stopped in his tracks. “This is your bad wrist?”
I shook my head. “No. But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t fucking hurt.”
“Then, come on and shut up before we’re both in a hell of a lot of trouble.”
I scoffed as he took my hand again. “We wouldn't be in this damn situation had you not fought in the first place!”
“No one asked you to intervene.”
We started running again. “Yeah, well. Fuck me for caring, I guess.”
We kept running until we got around the front of the building. Among the chaos and the insanity, the pain in my back and my wrist grew. I was pissed off at the entire world. For Clint and his bullshit fighting ways. At those boys for whatever the hell they’d been doing on the football field. For that asshole that actually knocked me down.
