“Hey!”
Both men stopped with their fists still in midair. Their gazes shot my way, and I froze.
Shit. Did I just say that?
Chapter Two
Griffin
The voice halted what was quickly escalating into something that would most likely get me suspended a few games. Coach had a zero tolerance policy for his players fighting on or off the court, so if word got back to him, I was as good as benched. Perhaps the assholes who approached me knew that so they egged me on with their bullshit claims. I couldn’t help but be led into them, though. I may have been a country boy, but I never backed down when challenged—by anyone. I never started a fight in my life, but if I got dragged into one I sure as hell made sure it ended in my favor. Trailer park living and having three brothers had a way of toughing up a guy real quick. It was eat or get eaten where I came from, and this dude and his short-ass friend weren’t going to intimidate me.
The voice stopped all that though. At least for the time being. I didn’t lower my fists and neither did the other guys. Since their focus was on the person who interceded, I figured it was okay to loosen up and look as well.
I’d seen her before. This girl. I gave her my extra quarter when I broke a dollar for my laundry tonight, as well as a few other times… I think.
I said I think because, like tonight, she didn’t really look at me. Well not directly any way. She never did. She just accepted the quarter, thanked me with a quick glance, and went about her business like I did.
How I knew it was her in front of me right now, and those other times, was by her clothes. She usually wore black with splashes of color. Purple and black stripes or pink with those same stripes like her hoodie tonight. Kind of a punk/urban style.
I guess if I was going to be real I actually noticed her because of how she looked in the clothes. I mean, I usually only saw the backside of her as she was bent over a washer, and well, I wasn’t blind. I never stared. I didn’t want her thinking I was some kind of pig, but I definitely noticed I wasn’t ever alone in the laundry room. I kind of wished she would stare at me sometimes, which was weird because all people did was stare at me because of who I was. Guys. Girls…
Fuck all mighty the girls. That shit drove me crazy. When I was a wide-eyed freshman getting my first taste of the fame that came with playing for a nationally ranked team, I didn’t mind it. But now, four years later and being team captain, I wasn’t trying to deal with it. I had my fair share of college douchebaggery but nothing was more unattractive these days than a girl attempting to give you a lap dance after sucking off one of your teammates. Been there, done that.
But this girl in front of me never stared, and like I said, I kinda wished she had, if only to see her face. We crossed each other’s paths a few times, and I was naturally curious. I was definitely seeing her now as she stared at the fight that brewed before her. Naturally, she seemed terrified with her eyes wide and mouth hanging open in shock. I hated to see that look on her face. She had one of those sweet looks about her, almost innocent. I guess the large eyes did it. It was dark outside, but the laundry building’s outer lighting let me know her eyes weren’t the common brown I usually saw on dark girls. They were much lighter. I wished it was brighter so I could see them better. Like I said, I’d never seen such a thing on a black girl before. Other than that I supposed she was ordinary. Long, silky hair, round face, and full lips. She definitely didn’t seem like the type to go around breaking up fights. That fact was proven with the terror that laced her eyes, so why did she intercede?