Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 74710 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 374(@200wpm)___ 299(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74710 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 374(@200wpm)___ 299(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
Fuck. My face feels broken.
An arm wraps around my waist and I’m pulled against a hard body before the guy starts barging his way out of the crowd. I look back for Nate and find Jesse on top of him while Puck has a go at Jackson, though, with his arm still in a cast, I’m not sure much is happening, but it will go a long way in making Puck feel better.
I look up at the guy pulling me out of the fray and realize it’s Tyson. The boys must have gotten here just in time. Actually, scrap that. They should have gotten here ten minutes ago when all of this bullshit started. I mean, that would have saved us all a shitty start to a Monday morning.
Tyson breaks free of all the bodies and releases me before diving straight back in. Another body slams into me. “Fuck,” Brooke cries. “Are you ok?” She grabs me by the shoulders and pulls me back before gasping in horror. “Your face.”
I put my hand up to where it’s still stinging and bring it back to find it covered in blood. “Shit,” I groan. “Someone got me with an elbow.”
Her eyes well with tears and she goes to say something as a bunch of teachers and coaches come rushing in to break it all up. The coaches start blowing whistles and tearing kids off other kids. The assistant principal comes tearing down the hill with a hose and Brooke and I watch on with wide eyes.
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The entire senior and junior classes sit in the hall in complete silence. The school nurse moves from one student to another checking over injuries as teachers go around interrogating kids on their involvement.
I sit beside Brooke who hasn’t left my side with an ice pack over my face. I was lucky. I got away with a Band-Aid, though any worse and it would have needed stitches.
I saw Nate for about three seconds. He was being held by Principal Watkins and lead away. His eyes locked on mine before they moved down to my cheek. His eyes widened and he broke away from Watkins before racing over to me.
Nate pulled me in and gave my cheek a closer look, but from the fury pouring out of Watkins, I had no choice but to push him away. I didn’t want him getting in any more trouble than he was already in.
I haven’t seen him since and it’s killing me. I need an update. I need to know that he’s ok. Hell, I just need to check his knuckles aren’t cracked and bleeding as I know, there’s no way he’ll bother getting them looked at.
I haven’t seen Jackson either which tells me he’s getting his ass handed to him by Watkins or he’s on his way to the hospital. I hate seeing people hurt, but just this one time, I’ll make an exception. I mean, who does he think he is trying to do that to Nate? The more I think about it, the angrier I get.
I spy Jesse sitting across the room, looking as miserable as ever. He lifts his eyes to mine and pulls his lips into a tight smile. I think he’s trying to appear encouraging, but let’s face it, it’s not working.
One of the teachers calls out for another and soon enough, five of them have hovered around a phone. The room is in silence so when the teacher hits play on a video, it’s as clear as day they’re watching the footage from the fight.
I cringe as I listen to what came out of my mouth, then cringe again when all five teachers turn to look at me as one. Great. Hopefully, they can see that I was trying to diffuse the situation, and hopefully, they can see that it was Jackson who started it all. Though, if they can see those two things, then they can certainly see that it was Nate who threw the first punch.
Shit.
I listen to the way the confrontation started before I got there. I listen to the way Jackson tries to challenge him, tries to force his hand. I listen to how Nate was calmly shutting him down, but the tone in his voice was begging to feel his fists in Jackson’s face. I listen to the crowd chanting to fight. I listen to Jesse in the background, trying to break the footballers’ barriers. I listen to me defending my boyfriend. I listen to the way it all came crumbling down when Jackson told the guy to move me.
I listen to how Nate completely had it under control before I stormed my way in and tried to fix a fight that wasn’t mine. Shit. This is all my fault. Well, partially. It’s definitely all on Jackson, but Nate could have dissolved the situation had I just left it alone. Instead, I stormed in there like a raging bull.