Her frown deepened, but I waited. I wasn’t going to let her lock me out. She could at least speak to me. Why she was the one girl at this school who didn’t want to talk to me, I didn’t know. Hell, even the girls I’d pissed off thawed easier than she did when I wanted them to.
“I’m not giving you the silent treatment. I just don’t want to encourage you. I’ve tried to be nice about it.”
Ouch. Damn, the girl was mean. Problem was, I didn’t believe her. I had seen her watching me when she didn’t think I was paying attention. And there had been interest in her eyes. Something else was making her put up a wall.
“I’m real nice. Wish you’d at least give me a break and be my friend.” Had I really just asked to be put in the friend zone with this girl? Dammit, I was slipping. I didn’t want her to be my friend.
She finally turned her head and tilted it back to look up at me. She was tall for a girl, but I was taller. The confused expression on her face almost made me laugh out loud. She was thinking I had lost my mind too.
“You don’t have girls who are friends. You have your little gang, and none of you are friends with girls.”
She had me there. But she was different.
“I’m thinking I want to test the waters. Besides, if the only way I can get you to talk to me is to offer friendship, I will.”
She raised her eyebrows in disbelief, and then she laughed. I had never seen or heard her laugh before, and goddamn, it was something else. I wanted to record it and play it over and over again, soaking in the fact that I had made her laugh. Memorizing the way her eyes danced with amusement. I forgot where we were and everything else around me.
“You think that’s funny?” I asked, unable to keep from grinning like a fool.
She let out one more soft chuckle, then shook her head. “No, I think that’s hilarious. You wouldn’t last a day without flirting with me.” As she said those words she snapped out of her moment of amusement. The tense, frustrated girl was back. “I need to get to first period. Excuse me,” she said, and started to walk off. But I wasn’t caving in now. This was the most she’d talked to me, and I didn’t want it to end. I needed reassurance she’d talk to me again.
“Give it a chance. Be my friend.” I was begging. The boys were going to tease my ass for weeks over this.
She let out a sigh and turned back to look at me. “Sure. Whatever. Now I need to go to class, friend.”
At that, I flashed her a grin that had most girls wrapping themselves around me and I let her go. “See you later, buddy,” I called out as she hurried down the hall without looking back.
I watched as guys did double takes at her retreating form as she passed them. She was oblivious. The urge to shove them all into their lockers so they never glanced at her sweet ass again was hard to resist. But that wouldn’t stop them, and I would end up suspended.
I settled for giving warning glares as I walked toward my locker. They all needed to know she was mine. Friend or not, Trisha Corbin was off-limits. Every one of their horny asses needed to understand that.
Chapter Four
Trisha
Friends? Was I crazy?
After three classes this morning I was still replaying my conversation with Rock Taylor over and over again in my head. It was like watching a train wreck on repeat. I couldn’t be Rock’s friend. He didn’t want me as a friend. He wanted in my pants. Or panties, to be specific.
Ignoring him was so difficult. He was huge. Bigger than life. Those arms of his looked like they could protect anyone. Guys in high school shouldn’t look like him. He was built like a wall. The men our stepmother brought home didn’t have anything on Rock. He could take care of them.
No. Shaking my head, I cleared that thought right out. Rock had no clue what baggage came with me. He wanted to add me to his list of girls he’d nailed. He didn’t want to protect me from the men who enjoyed slapping me around when I didn’t let them touch me.
Focus, Trisha. Focus. Keeping Krit safe was my only goal in life. Well, that and getting us the hell out of her house. The only thing I could find any solace in was that there was a line with Krit she would never cross. Fandora Daily didn’t let the men she screwed around with hurt her stepson too much. She preferred they hit me. Her unwanted stepdaughter who she also liked to hit. My mother had taken off when I was eight, and I’d been left with my father and his current wife, Fandora. When he took off, he’d left Krit and me behind. The only thing that kept Fandora from tossing me out with the trash was that I took care of Krit. She could go out on dates and live her life knowing she had a built-in babysitter.
So I was given a home. By the time I was ten years old, both my mother and father had deserted me. All I had left was my little brother. And I made it my goal to keep him safe and to keep us together.
Krit was the only person on earth who loved me. I would sell my soul for him. He was what kept me from just giving up and letting Fandora’s men beat me to death. I fought to live for my brother’s sake.
Touching my side, I inhaled sharply. I was afraid this time my rib was broken. I didn’t know what to do about that. I’d taken medical wrap and wound it around my ribs tightly. That was all I knew to do. Going to the hospital could land both Krit and me in foster homes, and I couldn’t risk being split from him. He needed me.
Yeah . . . Rock Taylor didn’t have a clue. Next time he hit on me, I should show him the black-and-blue bruises under my shirt. Or maybe the ugly green tint of the bruise healing on my ass. Or the scar that marred the skin on the left side of my hip where I’d been whipped with a belt so hard it sliced me open. I’d definitely needed stitches for that, but I’d never gotten them. Fandora was smart. She didn’t want me to be harmed where people could see.
She was also completely selfish and bitter. And yet she loved Krit—well, to a degree. She was proud of the handsome man he was turning into, and I think she assumed he’d take care of her one day. So she kept him. And because he loved me, she kept me.
But she made sure I understood that I was a burden on her and always had been.
The end-of-class bell rang and I grabbed my books before standing up. Riley Owens stepped in front of me and grinned. Her dark brown hair was cut into a cute chunky style this year, and she was wearing more makeup than she had last year. I had always thought she was pretty, but she was really attractive now.