Page 19 of Lucky 14

“You gotta untuck your thumb when you throw a punch,” Connor says, like we’re friends.

I glare at him. He must be exceptionally stupid because now I’m considering using that punch on him. Mr. Can't-Take-A-Hint.

Connor ignores me. “Keep it on the outside of your fingers, and you won’t break it.” He throws me a conspiratorial wink. “I can teach you how to fight if you want.”

“Pass.” I’m close to my class, and people are starting to pass us in the hall. I can’t help but look over my shoulder.

Connor follows my glance. “Cool, I’ll see you after practice.” Then, he bounces off.

All I can do is stare after him. What is this guy’s problem? A throb of pain moves through my hand, and I massage my swollen thumb. Dad said I clearly didn’t think about the consequences of getting in a fight, so I wasn’t going to go to the doctor to ‘pussy out’ of the pain. Then he seemed to forget about it, asking me to help him move a bunch of shit in the garage, despite the fact that it made my hand hurt like a bitch. I hid the pain, knowing that would only make Dad’s behavior worse.

Connor noticed the pain, though. Which means I’m fucking slacking, because now he knows a weakness. He doesn’t care; he’s pointing out that he knows I’m vulnerable.

He can fuck all the way off. I don’t need anyone pretending to care about me. I’m strong enough to be alone, and I prefer it that way.

Connor does not fuck all the way off. In fact, he catches me the next day at lunch.

“Hey!” Connor slides next to me at my table.

I jump up like he poured boiling water all over me. “What’s your problem? I told you to fuck off.”

Connor winks at me. “What, you afraid to be seen with me, fourteen?”

I blink at him. He just nods at my shirt. I glance down and see I’ve picked my Sooner’s 14 jersey. I don’t wear it often, but I haven’t done laundry in way too long.

I just grab my tray and start moving away. I spot an isolated table in the corner and slide in. Thankfully, Connor doesn’t follow me.

Then, my phone dings.

Unknown: It’s okay, I like playing chase ;)

I glance up, and Connor has his phone out, grinning like an idiot. I glance around. Harley is at her table of bitches, glaring at me.

Cool. Awesome. Instinctively, I check my drink.

Me: I’m blocking you

Unknown: C’mon 14

Me: That’s not my name

Unknown: Okay, Ice Queen

Ice Queen. As in the queen with the sister who has a streak of white hair. Only, he’s calling me the character that doesn’t match my hair. Classic idiot.

Me: At least get the right princess

Unknown: Got it, frying pan

I snap my glare up at Connor. He’s not looking at me, but he’s smiling at his phone. A quick glance at the bitch table shows they’ve moved their attention away from me.

Unknown: I’ll send you some videos on fighting techniques. Just to be clear, are we fighting knights or evil stepsisters?

I narrow my gaze at the phone. Why the hell is he trying to pry me for information? It’s none of his business.

I put the phone back in my pocket and ignore the buzzes that follow. When I leave the lunch room, I don’t look back.

As soon as I’m out of the presence of the table of bitches, I feel like I can breathe again. My phone buzzes throughout the day. Eventually, when I’m sure no one’s looking, I scroll through Connor’s messages.