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“Elliott got you to paint my locker for me?”
“Seriously,” she clears her throat. “And he’d kill me for telling you this but do you want to know why?”
“Why?” I ask hesitantly.
“Because Taylor Williams is an obnoxious brat and wrote some pretty nasty stuff on the front of your locker after school on Monday. Elliott caught her doing it.”
“No.” I gasped, covering my mouth with my hand.
“He dragged her snooty butt to the Principal's office. The Principal wanted Taylor to clean it up but Elliott asked for permission to cover it instead and since they pretty much do whatever their star quarterback wants, she let him. He really capitalized on that too.” She laughed. “That’s where I came in. We were up there pretty early Tuesday morning just to get it done by the time you came in. He wanted to make sure you didn’t know about it.”
I swallow the sob building in my throat.
“He did that? For me?”
“He did. Listen, he’s told me that he’s desperate to talk to you but that you won’t even look at him. I’m not sure what’s going on but will you do me a favor, now that we’re friends and all?”
“What’s that?” I laughed.
“Just hear what he has to say.”
My grin fell before turning my gaze to Elliott.
And with that, Robyn got up to leave. She waved and I smiled back, unsure of what to think or even what to feel.
One thing was for sure, Elliott Gray was not who I thought he was.
Which was all the more reason to fear him.
Chapter Three
Restraint, You Are A New Enemy
Of Mine
That Monday, I drove to school kind of early but not so early that there wouldn’t be kids in the lots. I stepped from my truck and slammed its door. The slam rang through the air and I caught the attention of Jake Sotheby.
“Jake! Hey Jake!”
“Hey, Elliott. What’s up? You ready for Friday’s game?”
That was all anybody thought I was good for and all they ever wanted to talk to me about. I was popular but for a singular purpose.
“Yeah, I’m ready. Hey, do you know Julia Jacobs?”
“Yeah, dude. Everybody knows Julia. She’s hot but really weird. Why?”
Hot but weird. Maybe I would be throwing the first punch.
“Oh, nothin’. Does she park in our lot?”
I knew she was in the other lot but I asked a general question to fish for something more specific.
“No dude. She’s in Lot A. She has the spot across from Casey Wuthers.” He smiled. “Why? You thinkin’ about tackling that?”
“What the hell does that mean?” I asked seriously.
“Nothing. See you at practice.”
