His Brave Girl (“HIS” #1)

Chapter 1

CHAPTER 1

Presley

“ S orry I’m not there to see you off on your first day, kiddo. I know it’s hard being the new kid on the block.”

The guilt in his voice pains me. It’s not his fault he had to travel for work this week. Besides, this is my seventh school in the last five years; I don’t get nervous anymore.

“Dad, please stop apologizing. I’ve got this. You know I’m a pro at being the new kid.”

As soon as the words leave my mouth, I wish I could suck them back in. Now, he’s going to feel guilty over that too. All I’m trying to do is get him to stop worrying about me. I’m not a little girl anymore. Besides, he has no idea how happy I am to be moving on from my last school. He doesn’t understand how much I need this fresh start.

“I know, sweetie. And I’m sorry,” he sighs, making my stomach sink even lower into the pit of guilt. “Well, you know what they say—what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.”

I wish I’d just kept my mouth shut. He didn’t need another reminder of what my life’s been like since the divorce. I need to fix my mistake.

“Yep, exactly, Dad. I’m one strong, badass bitch now.” I’m hoping the strength in my voice will ease his guilt.

When a low chuckle comes through the line it eases mine. “Language, Presley!”

“You know I am, Dad.” The smile is in my voice, but thankfully he’s not here to see it absent from my face. I wish I was badass. But it turns out I’m just a bitch.

“Yep, you’re a great kid. In spite of everything you’ve been dealt over the last few years, you’ve turned out to be an incredible young lady and I’m so proud of you, Pres.”

The emotion stings my eyes, catching me right in the chest. I wish I could’ve lived with him over the last five years. I would’ve actually had a parent in my life that cared about me. Now, that I’m eighteen, I get to choose who I live with, and I’m just happy I’m finally here. Where I should’ve been all along.

“Okay, Dad, you need to stop or you’ll mess up my makeup before school starts and then I’ll be late.”

“You don’t wear makeup, Presley. But I get the message: quit with the heavy. All right, kiddo, I’ll let you go. But call me later when you get home. I want to hear how your first day goes.”

“I will, Dad. Love you.”

“Love you, too, kiddo.”

When the line goes dead, the air rushes from my lungs. The storm of emotion is trying to move in, but I’m not going to let it. I check my reflection one last time, making sure the tears are gone from my cheeks; the pain absent from my eyes. It’s time to put on a brave face and head to school.

The parking lot is swarming with kids when I pull in. In one quick survey of the lot, I can already see the hierarchy of the students. It’s the same at every school. And front and center are the Elites. The group of kids usually made up of the ones with money and good looks. The ones that are typically the top athletes and cheerleaders of the school. Yep, and here it’s no different. They’re all lingering by their expensive cars, looking powerful and perfect. The guys extremely good-looking and the girls all gorgeous and put together.

Everyone else is lingering around the outskirts, secretly wishing they were part of their clique. Wanting to be one of the “popular kids.” The ones invited to all the parties. The ones that look like they have all their shit perfectly together. But the onlookers, the wannabes, are wrong. In every school I’ve been to, I’ve always been part of that group. I’ve always been one of the Elite, and I’ve always seen the truth.

That’s why this time, I’m staying as far away from the fold as I possibly can. I plan on avoiding them like the plague. I’m here for four months and then I’m graduating and moving on past all this high school bullshit. I’m done with the drama and I’m done with the stupid hierarchy. And these self-proclaimed popular kids that feel like they’re entitled to do as they please just because they were born with certain perks and privilege are in for a rude awakening when their little bubble pops and they get out into the real world.

I pull my jeep into a space then do a quick check in the mirror before hopping out, feeling the eyes already burning into me as I grab my bag from the back seat. If I look over now, I know I’ll find the Elite girls narrowly assessing me. Their faces inevitably showing their curiosity until jealousy gets ahold of them. That’s when realization will hit and they’ll decide they need me as a friend and not their enemy— because to them I’m their competition. I have no intention of getting involved with any of the guys here, so these girls have nothing to worry about. But I’m sure they’ll make their attempt to invite me into their group so they can control exactly who I do and don’t choose to date.

The guys are no doubt making their assessment too. But they’re not looking at me like I’m competition. They’re drinking me in from top to bottom, many of them making a mental note that I’ll be the next one on their “plan to fuck” list. They can look all they want, but none of them will be able to touch me. I’m not interested in dating right now. Guys, I’ve learned, are all assholes. At least, high school boys are.

Although, I really can’t blame them. They’re young and trying to have fun. They aren’t looking to get tied down at eighteen. They’re just looking to get laid and are driven by way too many hormones. But those hormones can turn them into manipulating monsters. And my barely beating heart won’t withstand another break.

I throw my bag over my shoulder, keeping my eyes trained on my phone and on the ground in front of me as I make my way to the front entrance. If I glance in their direction, they’ll pounce. They’ll take the eye contact as an invitation to come over and start the induction process. I plan on avoiding that too, for as long as I possibly can. Because once the girls learn I’m not interested in being part of their “cool group,” they’ll see me as an enemy, and I know exactly what will happen then.

I’m not afraid of what they’ll do to me. None of that scares me. It’s the drama I want to avoid at all costs. I’m exhausted. So, from now until graduation, I intend to go to class, study, and keep my head down and my grades up. That’s it. Having a social life can happen when I’m older. When people choose to be your friend because they like you, not because of some stupid hierarchy based around money and looks.

The lady in the front office hands me my schedule and asks if I’d like someone to show me around to my classes. It’s not necessary. I’m a pro at navigating through new schools. Besides, they usually always choose a cheerleader to do the tours, and that’s a hard pass. “No, thank you. I’m all set.”

I check my schedule as I exit the office, looking for the room number of my first period class. Room 149 . I look up to get my bearings, but I don’t see any signs, numbers, or indicators on which way I should go. The only thing I see is… HIM.

A shiver rocks through me as if the building was just hit with a tremor from my past. A static charge clings to my nerves; my lungs struggling to release the air that’s trapped inside. He’s watching me from across the corridor. His dark brown eyes burning a slow path down my body, leaving a trail of goosebumps over every inch. The warning bells sound inside my head, telling me I need to keep my distance.

One look at his domineering frame and it’s clear he has power. His body is big and broad. Every line chiseled to perfection. Sculpted to entice and intimidate. If I had to put money on it, I’d say he’s the king of the Elite. I doubt there’s anyone better looking than him at this school. And the jersey he’s wearing says “Captain” on it, which is usually reserved for the one who holds the throne.

My heart skips a beat, the final warning telling me I need to stay far away from him. I release the lock he has on my senses, choosing not to walk down memory lane. Instead, I turn my attention toward the hallway. Once I spot the numbers on the wall, I begin moving in the direction of my class, doing my best to calm my racing heart with every step I take. Taking one deep breath at a time as my walls start to build back up. As my strength returns to full force.

When I enter the classroom, the teacher tells me that all seats are open and I can sit at any table I want. I scan the room, seeing the clusters of kids who’ve already chosen their spots. Almost every seat is taken. Every table is filled except for two. There’s one seat available at a table filled with a group of kids I’m positive are the Elite. And then there’s one table that’s completely empty except for one lone girl who’s occupying it.

Judging by her appearance and her entire demeanor, it’s obvious no one wants to sit with her. She’s the girl who never gets chosen. The one who gets ignored. People have probably been in school with her for years and many may not even know her name because “loser” is all they’ve ever called her. She’s not a girl who wishes to be one of the Elite. She’s a girl who wishes to fly under the radar until she no longer has to be locked within these walls. Which is exactly why I take the seat next to hers.

She glances up from the book she’s reading as I place my bag on the table. Her eyes grow wide with shock. Her glasses only magnifying the fear I see in their depths. She thinks I’m one of them. I’m not.

“Hey.” I smile. “Do you mind if I sit with you?” She studies me through her thick-rimmed glasses, looking at me like I’m some kind of alien. Her head barely tips as her throat constricts, choking down her nerves.

“Um…sure. You can sit there. I don’t mind.” Her voice is soft and friendly. She seems shy but I’ve learned not to make assumptions about people. Within these walls, especially when you’re considered an outcast, you learn to act a certain way. But deep down, in the comfort of her own home, surrounded by people who accept her, she may be lively. She could be the most outgoing girl ever to exist, but her sun will never shine under the clouds of the Elite.

“Thank you.” I smile, taking my seat then pulling out my computer. Relieved to have a safe place to land. Unlike all the Elite girls I’ve encountered, I don’t choose my friends based on looks. Although under this girl’s geeky attire, she’s probably a knockout. But I don’t care how much she weighs, what she wears, or how much money she has. All I care about is that she’s safe, her smile is warm, and that she’s not threatened by me. She shouldn’t be. No one should feel threatened. But I know that’s a false hope. Because no matter what I do or say, the Elite girls will feel threatened.

“Hey, new girl! You don’t have to sit with the loser. Come sit over here with us. This seat is open.”

I turn my head and see a perfect blond Barbie who’s sporting a cheerleading uniform, gesturing to the open seat next to her. I already don’t like her based on what she just said, but once I see the evil sneer on her face, which she’s trying to pass off as a fake smile, I definitely know she’s someone I’ll be keeping my distance from. She’s being nice to me, but it’s just an act. She sees me as competition and wants to keep her enemy close. From the looks of her, I’m guessing she’s the queen of the Elite. And judging by the tension in her shoulders, I’m guessing she’s worried I might seize her castle. Well, she can rest assured because I have no intentions of being her enemy, but I definitely have no interest in being her friend.

“Thanks for offering, but I’m good.” I give her a friendly smile and turn my attention back to the girl next to me. “I’m Presley, by the way. What’s your name?” The girl looks completely stunned by everything that’s happening right now. She’s being chosen over the cool kids. What she doesn’t realize is that she should be chosen. She’s probably a thousand times nicer and more genuine than any of them. The Elite may have money, looks, and popularity, but kindness is rarely a going trait.

“You should really go sit with them,” she urges, and I can hear her insecurities shining through. “Cassie is the most popular girl in school, and if she’s giving you an opportunity to be part of their group, you should take it. Don’t commit social suicide by sitting with me. I wouldn’t want to sit with me either.”

The tears sting my eyes. My chest tightens, and an overwhelming feeling of insane guilt for all of my past choices comes rushing in. At every school I attended, there was always the one kid that everyone avoided like the plague. And me, I always fell right in line and avoided the outcast too. Never giving thought to how lonely they must feel. How desperately they wanted to have friends. How they longed to be included and wanted to feel important. It’s not like I was ever mean to anyone, but I just never paid any attention to anyone other than myself. But that ends now.

“I appreciate you trying to look out for me, but you seem way nicer than that girl, and I’d really rather sit with you, if that’s okay? I don’t really want to be surrounded by a group of people who think that because they’re popular they have the right to be mean to people.”

Her big blue eyes reveal everything. All the emotion she’s feeling right now is radiating through her stare, and the tears in her eyes affirm the fact that I made the right choice. A choice I wish I’d made years ago. At all the other schools I attended.

“It’s nice to meet you, Presley. I’m Ruby. So, did you just move here?”

There’s a hesitance in her smile but at least she feels comfortable enough to talk to me, which I consider to be a good sign. I don’t want her to be intimidated by me. There’s nothing about me that makes me better than her, and I want her to know that.

“Yes.” I nod. “Well…kind of. I actually just moved back. I lived here up until sixth grade, but then my parents got divorced and I lived with my mom full time.” I spare her the details of how many states I’ve lived in over the years and skip to the bullet points. “But now I’m back living with my dad again.”

“Really?” Her eyes perk up. “I’ve lived here my entire life and I don’t remember you going to school with us.”

I shake my head. “That’s because my parents had me in an all-girls private school before I moved away, so you wouldn’t have seen me.”

“Oh.” She nods then her eyes drop back down to the table.

I watch as she retreats into her shell and turns back to the book she was reading. Almost like it’s a habit. She’s probably used to filling all the empty space and time of her day with reading so she doesn’t have to be alone with her thoughts and feel the pain of her insecurities. So she doesn’t have to face the alienation of being the “loser.”

While I’m here, I’m determined to break her shell. I want to show her that she’s just as worthy as everyone else. I want to help build her confidence and make her brave. Brave enough that she’ll accept me as her friend. Brave enough that when she leaves these hideous walls we call high school, she’ll be excited to face the world and become all she’s ever dreamed to be. I definitely don’t want the mean voices she’s heard for all these years playing in her head for the rest of her life and holding her back from anything.

“So, is this teacher hard or easy?” I ask, pulling out my notebook and getting situated for class.

She closes her book and does the same. “Mr. Stanley is nice. I’d say a bit on the strict side, but he’s a fair teacher.”

“That’s good.” I giggle. “Calculus isn’t my strongest subject.”

“Oh, well, if you ever have a question or need help, just ask.” Her eyes light up with the sound of her voice. “It’s my favorite subject and I’m not trying to brag but I have a hundred in the class, so I’d be happy to tutor you if you ever need it.”

“Thanks.” The warmth spreads over me, and I make the decision that whether I need the help or not, I’m going to take her up on her offer so I can spend more time with her. Not because she’s a project and I’m on some kind of mission to turn the ugly duckling into a swan, but because I could really use a genuine friend in my life and I think she’d make a great one. One I wish I’d had all along. One I’m guessing she’s probably needed for a long time, too.

The teacher calls our attention to the front, and as he starts the class, I notice the kids at the Elite table glancing in my direction. The three guys are blatantly checking me out, all of them trying to send signals with their eyes, relaying their obvious interest. But I pretend not to notice, keeping my attention focused on our teacher at the front of the room. The girls, on the other hand, are studying me like they’re trying to figure out a puzzle. They won’t solve the riddle that is me no matter how hard they try. I’ve finally learned how to keep my emotions locked down and the blankness on my face.

Unfortunately for Cassie, she’s revealing every thought running through her head. Every time the guy seated next to her looks in my direction, she puts her hand on his arm, practically forcing him to return his attention back to her. Thankfully, she hasn’t seen me look in his direction once, so I’m not the one at the end of her bitch glare right now. He is. And I plan on keeping it that way. All the girls here can relax because I’m not going to be dating anyone.

When the bell rings, it’s time for me to make my way to the gym. Thankfully, the queen isn’t in my athletics class so I don’t have to face her in the locker room. I’m guessing she’ll forgive my “rudeness” from class and make one more attempt with me before she puts me on her hit list. There are, however, a couple of girls in here that look like they belong to the fray, but they obviously are lower in the ranks because they give me friendly smiles and make no attempt to talk to me—which is a relief. My guess is they haven’t been given the order yet to approach. I’m all too familiar with how these girls operate. Especially, given the fact that I was the queen at my last school.

When class starts, the coach informs us that we’ll be paired up for fitness level testing today and that it’s ladies’ choice. Meaning: us girls get to pick a guy to be our class partner for the day. And lucky me , since I’m the new girl, I get to pick first.

I turn toward the group of guys and for the first time realize that he’s in my class. Mr. Dark and Dangerous is staring right at me, watching me like a hawk. His eyes are focused on his prey, trying to lure me into temptation. He wants me to pick him. The silent message he’s sending isn’t missed. My first instinct is to go straight to him and drown myself in his heated attention. But that’s never going to happen. The way I’m feeling right now is the exact reason I need to choose someone else.

I scan the rest of the crowd, still feeling his eyes singeing my skin, but I’m desperately trying to ignore the pull to choose him. When I spot a boy standing off to the side, lonely and with a face already filled with rejection, I walk straight to him. He’s the one who knows he’ll be the last one picked. But not today. Today, he’s going to be the first one chosen.

As soon as I walk up to him, he practically starts to shake. His eyes look at me nervously, as his Adam’s apple bobs. Again, the reaction pains me. He’s another one who somehow managed to be alienated at no fault of his own. He can’t help the way he looks, or that he may not have the coolest taste in clothes. Whatever his circumstance is—rich, poor, smart, challenged, awkward, or normal—none of it should make him any less worthy of acceptance, less worthy of being included. Yet, I’m positive he’s another one always left out in the cold.

“Hey, would you mind being my partner?” I ask, hope radiating in my voice.

“Um… Yeah…um…sure.”

His stuttered answer has my stomach knotting with guilt. I hate that I’m making him nervous. “Thanks.” I lean in close. “Just promise you won’t tease me on my pull-ups. I can’t even do one.”

He looks at me and then looks down at himself. I know he sees the physical difference between us. He’s gangly and definitely wouldn’t be mistaken for an athlete, and me, well, I’m a dancer so my body is toned, sculpted to perfection from years of pouring my heart and soul into the only thing that’s kept me sane. But I wasn’t lying to him; I still suck at pull-ups.

He holds up his arm, showing me his lack of muscle. “I’m not one to make fun of anyone. I don’t even have biceps.”

A genuine smile lifts my cheeks. “Well, good. So, we’ll both be in good company with our zero scores then. I’m Presley, by the way.”

“I’m John.” He gives me a hesitant smile and nods, still watching me skeptically. I think he thinks that this is all some kind of joke. Like I’m playing a prank on him. I’m not. I wouldn’t do that. But I understand exactly why he feels that way. He’s probably a regular target of cruel jokes and evil pranks. And he’s probably wondering what I’m going to do to him during class to make him the butt of everyone’s joke.

I’ve never understood why people need to be bullies. To find a target and prey on the weak. If the Elite have looks, money, and everything they could ever want, then why do they need to tear someone else down? Why can’t they just appreciate all their gifts in life and leave people alone? But they don’t. In some sick and twisted way, it makes them feel better about themselves. It puts them on some kind of power trip.

Never once did I ever participate in the cruelties at my other schools, but… I didn’t do anything to stop them either. From now on, I’m going to do everything I can to stop someone who already feels uncomfortable in their own skin be humiliated and made to feel even worse about themselves. I’m going to protect the innocent from getting hurt. I’ll make myself the pin cushion. I’ll brave the pain for them. And hopefully, in the process, boost them up and make them realize they’re just as worthy as the rest of us.

We turn our attention back toward the class, and by no surprise, Mr. Dark and Dangerous was the second guy chosen. But his attention isn’t on his partner, the Elite girl, standing by his side. No, he’s watching me. His eyes locked on mine, and I’m caught like a fly in a spider’s web, struggling not to become his prey. The hairs raise on my arms. My body ignites like it’s on fire, and every part of me is clenched with need. And, if I don’t turn away now, I’ll be eaten alive. But it’s like pulling against gravity as I draw my attention back toward the rest of the class and watch as the girls make their picks.

Once the coach gives us our instructions and hands out the sheets to record our numbers on, we’re off. Every station John and I go to, the defeat hits his face before we even begin the exercise. And each time, I do my best to boost his morale and do something stupid or funny to loosen him up, eventually getting him to relax. Every exercise he does, he surprises himself and performs better than he expected. I honestly think he just needs to be pulled out of his own head and stop letting the negative image that has no doubt been drilled into him over the years hold him back. So that’s what I’m here for. I want him to stop doubting himself and be brave enough to face his fears.

“Okay, kids! Class is over. Turn in your sheets and head into the locker rooms.” The coach takes our papers and John turns to me right before we’re about to go our separate ways into our assigned locker rooms.

“Thanks,” he says, and the sincerity etched in his eyes squeezes my chest.

“Thank you, partner.” I smile. “And I’m telling you, John, by the end of the year, we’re both going to be able to do a pull-up.”

A huge smile splits his face. “Hell yeah. It’s a goal.” He nods, before practically strutting his way into the boy’s locker room. The confidence is already starting to show in his shoulders, and it brings a smile to my face. But that smile fades as I feel the intense stare at my back, the heat burning my nerves. I glance over my shoulder, and my instincts are proven right. Mr. Dark and Dangerous is stalking towards me with a look of pure determination on his face.

My feet fight to lock me in place, to keep me rooted in the spot so he can catch me, but I quickly gain control of my body and flee into the safety of the girl’s locker room right before he gets to me. Once inside, I take in the gasp of air I struggled to find while out in his presence. I need a moment to steady myself.

“Seriously, though, don’t you think it’s about time he had a girlfriend? I mean, don’t you think he gets tired of just fucking around and always being with different girls all the time? I just need to show him how much fun we could have if we were a couple. We’d be so great together.”

I want to tell the girl that she shouldn’t waste her time on whoever the guy is. All guys want to do is fuck around. If they can get sex on the regular, why would they want to tie themselves to one girl? Guys want to sample an assortment, not settle for one flavor. I’d love to point out the obvious, but I’m going to mind my own business and get changed out of my clothes.

“I love you, Whitney, but you know he’s never claimed a girlfriend before, and we’ve known him for years. I don’t think he’s magically going to change his mind. Besides, you know Cassie would ice you out if you even tried to get near him. She’s dead set on locking him down this year and will no doubt kill anyone who gets in her way of finally having him. I mean, for reals.”

My eyes roll as I head to the sink to wash my hands. God, it’s like déjà vu. Another queen has staked her claim, and if any of her minions cross her, she’ll socially destroy them. And they won’t just fall from the top gracefully, land themselves in another social group and be left to move on with their lives. They’ll be tormented until they want to withdraw from school and hide. The good news is…the guy doesn’t seem interested. Which is a bonus point for him. Because if he hasn’t already given into the ice queen, I’m guessing he doesn’t like her personality.

It also sounds like he’s only interested in a hookup, scoring him another point. Because at least he’s being honest about what his intentions are. He’s not trying to lead the girls on just so he can break their hearts. And he’s also being rational about the fact that settling down at eighteen is a ridiculous notion. Now, I’m wondering just who the guy is because he’s earned my respect.