The idea of changing my clothes sucked, but again, judge’s orders are judge’s orders.
I followed her through the gym to a little office tucked into the corner. I told her my size, then sat as she went to the back to find a shirt for me. I peeked out of the little window into the gym and watched as the kids played without a care. It was actually kind of nice to have a place for troubled kids to go. I wish I’d had a place like that when I was growing up. Maybe I could’ve been saved. Maybe I wouldn’t be so fucked up.
The sun peeked into the gym as the front door opened and a girl surrounded by a sunny halo entered. Once the door closed, the bright light surrounding her disappeared and I could see it was none other than Patience, my little icy bad luck charm. I sighed out loud.
Why couldn’t I get away from this girl? She was everywhere I was and it seemed like every time I saw her, something bad happened to me. I was starting to think she was a gift from the devil himself. She was a pretty box of temptation wrapped in a force field of police officers waiting to arrest me, or a box of sweets with a big-ass invisible mousetrap sitting on the cover.
I watched as she walked into the gym and stood there staring around like she was lost. She had on gym shorts and a tank top with her hair piled on top of her head in a messy ponytail. A pair of knee-high black socks fit against her well-shaped calves. She’d definitely just finished practicing some sport. Soccer, maybe? I’d never found sporty girls attractive, but something about the way she blew a wayward piece of hair from her face and flexed her firm arms at her sides was kind of hot. It made me wonder if she was athletic in bed. I bet she was.
“Here you go.” Lindy came around the corner with a bright-blue shirt in her arms.
I felt like telling her blue wasn’t my color, but whatever got me out of this shit as soon as possible.
She pointed across the gym to some kids standing right next to Patience.
“That group of boys over there is your group. Since today’s your first day, just spend the hour getting to know them and we’ll work on activities tomorrow.”
I nodded my understanding, then got up and walked out. I watched Patience as I walked up behind her. She was beginning to fidget again and it struck me how cute she was. I heard the boys from my group laughing and joking, and then I watched as the bravest of the group walked up to her and started to flirt. I didn’t hear her response, but suddenly she turned and ran right into me.
She smelled like freshly cut grass and female. It was a weird combination since the feminine smell usually wasn’t associated with anything outdoorsy, but I liked it. It belonged to her and somehow, even though she was delicate looking and entirely too sweet, it fit her. She looked up at me and suddenly I felt sick to my stomach. A faint black bruise worked its way up her cheek and under her eye. I knew my bruises and this was definitely a backhand to the face. It was at least three days old, which let me know it happened once she left the police station.
The urge to reach up and run my finger softly across her bruise was strong. I’d never wanted to soothe something so bad in my life. I didn’t like feeling that way. As a matter of fact, I fucking hated it. I wanted to lash out at her, but more than anything, I wanted to beat the shit out of her dad for laying a hand on such a defenseless person. Then again, I should kick my own ass since I was positive me being a smartass contributed to the problem.
It must have been obvious that I was staring down at her bruise because she swiped at it anxiously with her hand and turned her head away a bit. She told me with her eyes what I already knew. That bruise was my fault.
“You again,” I said as I bit down on my lip ring. “Guess that means I’m going to jail today.”
She looked as if she was physically shaking and I wondered for a moment if she was afraid of me. “Why would you go to jail?” she asked. She reached up and grabbed at the ends of her ponytail.
Every time I saw her, she got prettier and prettier and after our last run-in at the jail with her asshole of a dad, I looked at her differently. Before, I thought her life was perfect, but after seeing her fucked-up relationship with her dad, I knew not everything was as it seemed.
“Every time I see you I end up behind bars. What happened to your face?” I blurted out.
I shouldn’t give a shit what happened to her face, but I did.
She shrugged and attempted to laugh it off. “It was a stupid soccer ball to the face yesterday at practice.”
She was lying, but I didn’t push it. I knew what it was like to make up excuses for a busted lip or a black eye.
Quickly, I changed the subject.