Ginger

September 2009.

The first semester of my junior year of high school. After a long summer break, the school days were back. Did I enjoy it? Hell no. I wasn't particularly fond of school life. I preferred the quiet discipline of my Karate dojo, or locking myself in my room to play my favorite video games.

My only real connection to the school was Alvin. We spent our afternoons gaming until the sun went down. People probably called us nerds. I didn't care. I never gave a damn about what other people thought of me.

Thwack. A bony fist lightly clipped my bicep.

"Why the hell are you spacing out, dude? Our bus is here."

I blinked, looking down at Alvin. He was shifting his weight anxiously, backpack strapped tight to his shoulders.

"Stop hitting me, Al," I said, my voice flat and even. "Let me enjoy the quiet for a minute."

"Chill, man." Alvin laughed nervously. "When you stare off into space like that, your resting face looks like a mob hitman. You're going to creep all the girls out and die alone."

I looked at him, my expression completely unchanged. "You should worry about yourself, Al. You need to learn how to throw a real punch. You can't just let the jocks push you around forever. I’m not always going to be your guard dog."

"...."

Alvin froze. The nervous smile dropped off his face, his shoulders slumping as he stared at the pavement. "Right. Sorry, Daeron."

Shit. I exhaled slowly. I didn't mean to cut him down; I was just being practical. But I always forgot how fragile he was.

"Ah, don’t look so down, man." I nudged his shoulder lightly to break the tension. "Come on. Let's get on the bus."

We were an odd pair. Alvin was a walking target. Me? I just wanted to be left alone. But the jocks couldn't handle someone who didn't flinch when they barked. During my freshman and sophomore years, they tried to taunt me. I never started the fights, but the second they crossed the line, my dojo training took over. I broke a few noses.

Because of that, the rest of the student body treated me like a ticking time bomb. They avoided me.

Eventually, Alvin and I just gravitated toward each other. I didn't mind the jocks taunting him because it gave me a perfectly good reason to lay them out. But hanging out with me only made them hate Alvin more. So, we stuck together. A quiet guy and a nerd, daring anyone to test us.

*

Riiiiing!

The lunch bell cut through Mr. Phillips’s endless, droning history lecture.

I stretched my arms, cracking my neck. "Let’s hit the courtyard, Al. I need to breathe actual air."

"Dude, no." Alvin reached into his bag and pulled out two neatly wrapped bento boxes. "My mom packed lunch. She made extra for you. Let’s just eat in the classroom where it's quiet."

My eyes lit up, my usual stoicism cracking just a little. "Are you serious? Tell Mrs. Peter I love her. I'm going to marry her."

"Fuck, man, that’s gross!" Alvin cringed, holding the boxes away from me.

"Shut up and be grateful she can cook. Now come on, we are eating outside."

"Dude, no!" Alvin hissed, adjusting his glasses. "The jocks always hang out in the courtyard. If they see us, they'll start taunting us."

"Let them," I said, my voice dropping back to its usual calm, unbothered tone. I grabbed my bento box from his hands. "They’ll start shit whether we're in the courtyard or hiding in a classroom. I'm not eating my lunch in a closet. And don’t worry, dude..." I met his eyes. "I got you."

It took a few minutes of arguing, but I finally dragged him outside into the sun. The food was worth the risk. Mrs. Peter's cooking was a masterpiece. Halfway through my meal, I was already plotting how to quietly steal the rest of Alvin's rice.

*

"Forgot the drinks," I muttered, staring at the dry rice. "Wait here, Al. I’ll hit the cafeteria. Need anything?"

"Just water. Hurry up."

I kept my pace steady, but I didn't waste time. Leaving Alvin alone in the open was risky. The jocks were like sharks; they could smell weakness. Still, I refused to eat in the cafeteria. It was a suffocating, loud nightmare of hormones and terrible food that perpetually smelled like a horse's ass.

I was at the vending machine when a frantic tap hit my shoulder.

"You’re Alvin’s friend, right?" A girl was panting, pointing back toward the glass doors. "You need to hurry! My friend is getting cornered because she tried to help Alvin!"

My expression didn't change, but my heart rate dropped into a slow, focused rhythm. The Tiger was awake.

I walked out of the cafeteria and broke into a sprint down the hall.

I pushed through the courtyard doors. A crowd was forming. In the center, shielding a cowering Alvin, was a girl with fiery ginger hair. She was tiny compared to the guys surrounding her, but she had her chin thrust out, glaring up at Brook—the varsity linebacker whose nose I had broken the previous semester.

I stepped smoothly through the crowd, coming to a halt right beside the ginger girl.

"Brook," I said. I didn't raise my voice. I didn't need to. "Do you need another adjustment?"

Brook flinched at the sound of my voice. He recovered quickly, sneering down at me. "Look at that. Alvin’s psycho dog came running back."

His cronies chuckled, shifting their weight nervously. They remembered what happened last time.

"Try it," I said, my voice dead calm. I took one deliberate step into his personal space, my eyes locked on his. "But this time, I'm not stopping with you. Your clowns will get adjusted, too. Let's see how you play on Friday with a wired jaw."

Brook's eyes flickered with actual hesitation. His knuckles turned white.

"Enough!"

The ginger girl stepped between us, shoving her hands against Brook's massive chest. "Move your ass, Brook! Stop bothering people like a toddler! Grow up! You look like my uncle, but you cry like a baby!"

Someone in the crowd snorted. Then, full-blown laughter erupted.

Brook’s face turned the color of a brick. He glared at me, trying to salvage his pride. "Lucky for you, psycho. Mommy stepped in." He gave the girl one last dirty look before signaling his crew. They turned and slunk away.

I relaxed my stance, the adrenaline fading.

"And you!"

I blinked. A small, furious finger was suddenly shoved right between my eyes.

"Stop causing trouble!" the ginger girl scolded, her green eyes blazing. "You fight constantly! You’re a terrible influence on Alvin!"

I looked at her. She was breathing hard, her cheeks flushed with adrenaline. I looked down at her legs.

"Shut up," I said smoothly, swatting her finger out of my face. "Your knees were trembling the whole time you were standing up to him. Don't play the hero when you're terrified."

I didn't wait for her response. I turned my back to her. "Come on, Al. Let's move."

I took exactly two steps.

BANG!

The impact came from behind, a perfectly aimed, ruthless kick straight upward into my groin.

"FUUUCCCKKK!!"

My brain short-circuited. I dropped like a stone, hitting the concrete and curling into a fetal position. A sickening, nauseating pain radiated from my core, paralyzing every muscle in my body.

"You Cheeto bastard!!" I gasped out, my voice two octaves higher than normal.

"You ungrateful prick!!" she shrieked down at me, completely unrepentant. "I stand up for your friend and you mock me?! You psycho bitch!"

I heard her heavy, angry footsteps storming away across the courtyard. I couldn't even open my eyes to watch her go. I was too busy trying not to throw up.

A shadow fell over me. Alvin crouched down, pushing his glasses up his nose.

"Man," Alvin whispered. "That must really hurt."

"What do you think, you idiot?" I groaned, rolling onto my side. "Don't just look at me... lift me up."

*

The final bell finally put me out of my misery. Alvin and I leaned against the lockers near our homeroom, waiting for the crowd to thin out.

"Fuck," I muttered, wincing as I shifted my weight. "The dull ache is still there. That girl has a mean punt."

"I'm sorry, Daeron." Alvin stared at his shoes, the familiar guilt creeping into his voice. "I always drag you into my messes, and I never actually step up to defend you."

"Relax, dude." I kept my voice perfectly flat. "You just need to grow a pair. Actually, next time, I'll just let the Cheeto kick you in the groin. Maybe the impact will force your balls to drop."

"Oh, fuck off!" Alvin barked out a laugh.

We were still chuckling when a flash of bright red hair caught my eye. The girl from the courtyard was marching toward us. The blazing, self-righteous fury was gone. Instead, she stopped a few feet away, shifting her weight awkwardly from side to side, suddenly looking very small.

"I’m sorry for what I did earlier, Daeron," she muttered, staring at the floor tiles. "I... I know you were only trying to protect Alvin. I overreacted."

I leaned my head back against the locker, observing her calmly. "You know my name?"

She looked up, frowning as if I had asked a stupid question. "Of course I do. Everyone knows who you are."

"Why?"

"You’re last year's winner, right?"

"....You mean the under-18 Karate circuit?"

"Have you won any other circuits?" she asked, her tone dripping with sudden sarcasm.

"No."

"Well, duh." She rolled her eyes so hard I thought they might get stuck in the back of her head.

I let out a slow exhale, unbothered by her attitude. "I just figured the basketball guys were the popular ones."

"Ugh. Who said you were popular?" She crossed her arms defensively. "You’re just 'known.' You're definitely not 'well-known', and you are miles away from 'popular'. Duh."

"Right. Well, I’m apparently more known than you, Cheeto," I replied smoothly. "Because I have no idea who you are."

"Hah! You live in a cave, then!"

Alvin frantically elbowed my ribs, leaning in close. "Dude," he hissed, terrified she might hear. "That's Jessica. She’s on the main cheerleading squad."

"Ah." I looked back at her, my expression deadpan. Everything suddenly made sense. "You’re one of the ditzy girls."

The silence in the hallway was deafening.

Jessica froze. The pale skin of her neck flushed a furious, blotchy red that quickly spread to her cheeks.

"What the fuck did you just call me?!" Her voice echoed off the lockers. Her green eyes were practically glowing with rage. "Stop calling us ditzy! I am not stupid! You know what? My friends were completely right about you. You really are a psycho bastard!"

She didn't wait for a response. She spun on her heel and stomped down the hall, radiating pure hostility.

I watched her go, my face completely blank.

"Dude." Alvin rubbed his temples, exhausted. "That was completely uncalled for."

"What? Everyone calls them the ditzy girls, Al. It's an objective fact."

"Yeah, but you don't say it to their faces, man! It's social suicide!"

"I don't care about social suicide," I said calmly, grabbing my backpack from the floor. "Come on. Let’s go home and play Halo."

**

Alvin didn't show up to homeroom. A text later confirmed his grandfather had passed away.

For the first time in a long time, I navigated the halls alone. The silence was deafening. Without Alvin rambling about video game stats beside me, I realized just how isolated I actually was.

I sat alone in class. I ate my lunch alone in the courtyard, watching the social hierarchy spin around me. It was boring, but it gave me time to think. It was a twisted system. The jocks tormented people for fun, and the school treated them like kings. I put those kings in the dirt to protect my friend, and the school treated me like a rabid dog.

It wasn't fair. But I had long ago accepted that high school had nothing to do with fairness.

The Ambush.

The final bell rang. My plan was simple: go home, lock the door, and bury myself in an RPG until my eyes hurt.

I stepped out of the classroom and stopped.

Jessica was leaning against the lockers, her arms crossed, her bright ginger hair standing out like a warning beacon in the dull hallway. She looked right at me.

"Where’s Alvin?" she asked.

"Family emergency. Grandfather died," I said, keeping my voice flat.

"Oh." Her defensive posture softened immediately. "I’m sorry to hear that. I guess that’s why you were alone in the courtyard today."

"Yeah."

Silence stretched between us. She didn't move. She just stared at me with those sharp green eyes, clearly waiting.

I let out a quiet breath. "Look. Since you're here... sorry about last week. I didn't mean to mock you."

"Hm-mp." She tilted her chin up. "Is that all?"

".... And thank you. For standing up for Alvin while I was grabbing water."

"Hm-mp. I just hate bullies."

"Same."

"...."

"...."

"Alright." I adjusted my backpack strap. "I’m going home. See ya."

I took one step before her voice cut through the empty hall.

"Do you really think a dry, robotic apology like that is enough?" I stopped and looked over my shoulder. She was tapping her foot. "It took you a whole week, and you didn't even try to find me to say it. I had to ambush you."

I turned fully around, my expression completely unbothered. "What do you want, then?"

A wicked smirk spread across her face. "Let’s go. Buy me a hotdog, and I will reconsider."

"Huh?"

"Come on, move your ass, Caveman."

She pushed off the lockers and walked down the hall, radiating absolute confidence. I stood there for a second, blinked, and then quietly followed her.

The Interrogation.

She dragged me all the way to the city park.

When we got to the hotdog cart, she ordered the biggest, most expensive loaded dog on the menu, complete with extra cheese and jalapeños. I paid the vendor, my wallet significantly lighter. This girl is a menace.

"Mmph, now this is a proper apology!" She took a massive bite, sitting on a park bench. She had mustard on the corner of her lip, swinging her legs like a kid.

"Yeah. It cost enough to be 'proper'," I muttered, taking a bite of my own.

"Oh, don’t be such a killjoy. Take notes, Daeron. This is how you make girls happy."

"Heh." I chewed quietly. I had to admit, the hotdog was incredible.

She wiped her mouth with a napkin, her tone shifting from playful to curious. "Anyway. Why do you do it? Why do you keep fighting with those jocks?"

"I already told you," I said calmly. "I hate bullies. And they won't leave Alvin alone."

"Doesn't fighting them just paint a bigger target on Alvin’s back? They know it gets to you."

I stopped chewing. For the first time, she had pierced my armor. She wasn't just a ditzy cheerleader; she saw right through the dynamic.

I let out a heavy sigh, leaning back against the wooden bench. "I know."

"Then why—"

"Because there's no other option," I interrupted smoothly. "If I do nothing, they break him. If I fight, they think twice before touching him."

"Why not report it to the discipline committee?"

I let out a dry, humorless chuckle. "I did. Twice. The school protects its athletes. The committee gives them a warning, and then the jocks corner Alvin off-campus where the teachers can't see. Snitching only makes it worse."

"But..." She looked at me, her green eyes searching my stoic face. "The other students are terrified of you. You know that, right? They think you’re a psycho."

"I don't care what they think."

"So, what? You're like a dark superhero?" She bumped her shoulder against mine, giggling. "Fighting injustice in the shadows without expecting any credit?"

I looked at her, the corners of my mouth twitching upward. "If I were a hero, they’d build a bronze statue of me in the cafeteria. Besides, I don’t have the patience to play hero."

"A firefighter, then!"

"I don't carry an axe."

"Good. If you carried an axe with that deadpan face of yours, you’d look like Patrick Bateman."

The image hit me, and a sudden, genuine laugh barked out of my chest. I couldn't help it. She threw her head back and laughed with me, the sound bright and clear over the noise of the park. As she leaned against me to laugh, a scent hit me—something sweet, like cocoa and vanilla shampoo. It was a soft smell, completely out of place in a park that smelled like exhaust and cheap meat.

An hour later, the sun started to dip, and we tossed our trash in the bin.

"Thank you for the hotdogs, Daeron." She stopped on the sidewalk, offering a bright, genuine smile. "See you tomorrow."

"See you, Jess."

I stood on the pavement, watching her ginger hair bounce as she walked away.

I realized my heart was beating a little faster. In two years of high school, I hadn't had a single, genuine conversation with a girl. I was too busy being Alvin's shield and the school's monster. But Jessica just bulldozed right through the perimeter, demanded a hotdog, and made me laugh.

She was definitely trouble. But for the first time in a long time, I wasn't bored.