CHAPTER 8: ASH
I couldn’t believe it. She agreed. Mrs. Lee had called Mom up Friday to make it official.
Snow was going to be my bodyguard.
Holy shit. I’d get to see her eight hours a day, five days a week, without looking like a total stalker. Could life get any better? I got the answer Monday morning when I picked her up. It was Snow’s first day at CCDS, and I wanted to make sure she arrived in style. The engine to my Challenger was still hot as I got out of the car and turned to make my way up to The Academy. She and her mom lived in an apartment above the gym.
I didn’t make it three steps.
My heart stuttered, eyes widening, as the door swung open, and Snow walked out.
“Damn,” I whispered.
Thank God, for whoever invented short skirts and knee socks. Had to be a guy, I thought. Only a male could appreciate this. My eyes raked over her. God, her legs. She kept trying to pull her skirt down, but it was no use. Snow had the kind of legs that’d make a man do crazy things. Strong and smooth, like her hair which was down again. I wanted to run my hands through it. Her new look inspired lots of wants. My mind was running wild. She was nearly at the car before I snapped out of it.
I ran around to her side, wanting to be a gentleman and open her door. But I was glad she couldn’t read my thoughts. There was nothing gentlemanly about them.
“Hey, I—”
Snow held up a hand. “If you say one word about this stupid uniform, I’ll kill you.”
“Can’t do that,” I said with a grin. “You’re my bodyguard now, remember? You can’t kill the guy you’re supposed to be guarding, wouldn’t be right.”
“Don’t tempt me,” she muttered, tugging on the skirt again.
“And as far as that uniform goes…” I whistled long and low.
“What?” My ninja girl gave me the fiercest scowl I’d ever seen. “You don’t have to say it. I know I look like an idiot.”
Was she crazy?
“You look fine as hell,” I said seriously.
Her blush was the prettiest thing I’d seen. She said, “Whatever,” but at least it got her to stop messing with that skirt. I was already having trouble. If she kept it up, no way I’d be able to think straight. Looking away, Snow checked out my ride. Her eyes warmed, and I knew she liked what she saw before she said so.
“Nice wheels,” she smiled, one hand moving to slide over the paint. “Black with silver stripes? Somebody wants to be a racecar driver when he grows up.”
I cleared my throat. “If you keep petting my car like that, I’ll have to get a restraining order.”
She snapped her hand back and looked up at me, appalled. The fire in her eyes matched what I knew of her perfectly. I had the urge to kiss her right then.
But she’d probably slap me.
“You ready?” I asked, holding the door open.
“Yeah,” Snow said. “Um…thanks for, you know, the door.”
“No problem.”
Once she was in, I did a quick sprint to my side. The whole ride to CCDS I gripped the wheel tight, trying to keep my attention on the road while Snow fiddled with the controls in the car. The girl just couldn’t sit still. She turned on the radio, made a face at one of my favorite Rascal Flatts songs, and searched my iPod till she found something she liked. The window went up and down next. The air conditioner was put on full blast then turned off abruptly.
“So,” she said, “you pay for this car yourself or was it a gift from your parents?”
I didn’t miss the sarcasm. Shooting her a look, I said, “I did. Worked three whole summers mowing lawns, saving up for the down payment. It was worth every penny.”
“Oh.” She bounced a bit in her seat, then, “Well, it’s a very nice car. My butt feels like I’m sitting on a cloud.”
I laughed. “Yeah, Veronica has great seats.”
“Veronica?”
“Yep,” I said and tapped the dash. “She’s got the best paint job on the block, gets great mileage, and always takes real good care of me and my passengers.”
Snow gave me this blank face. It reminded me a lot of her mom. “You named your car Veronica.”
I nodded.
“That’s messed up.”
“Would it help if I told you I named her after my first girlfriend?”
“I bet you met her on the playground in second grade.” Snow scoffed, but I saw a smile peeking through.
“It was kindergarten actually.”
That earned a full on laugh. “You’ve been breaking hearts that long, huh?”
“Veronica broke up with me,” I said. “I wouldn’t share my lunch one day, so she just walked up, threw mud in my face and called me a loser.”
“Ouch,” Snow said.
“I was hungry.” I shrugged. “And she just wanted me for my PB&J. So, your mom said you’ve been doing martial arts since you were a baby. Have you always lived at The Academy?”
“Yeah, sixteen years,” she said.
“That’s a long time.” I grinned. “You must be amazing.”
“I can take care of myself.”
“That’s an understatement. I’m sure you could decimate an army with those fists.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“Do what?”
“Compliment me,” she said as I made the turn into the CCDS parking lot. “No need to butter me up. I’m here to guard you no matter what. It’s my job.”
They’d saved us a spot right in the back of the senior lot. Perfect. Students were already piling in. We were early, and it sounded like Snow and I needed to have a talk. I parked, pulled up the emergency break. Turning, I gave her my full attention—and tried to keep my eyes off her legs. It was embarrassing how hard it was. “I wasn’t buttering you up. I’ve seen you in action, remember? That was just me stating a fact, ninja girl.”
She raised a brow. “And stop it with the ninja girl crap. We don’t want people getting the wrong idea about us.”
Fighting a smile, I said, “And what idea is that, Snow?”
“I don’t know, Ash.” Even when she said it mean like that, I liked hearing her say my name. “It’s going to be hard enough explaining why I’m always following you around.”
“I’ll just tell them you’re my cousin.”
“Yeah,” she laughed, “because we look so much alike. That’ll work like a charm.”
I couldn’t stop myself from giving her a once-over. “Maybe second cousins.”
She folded her hands in her lap. “You look at all your second cousins like that?”
“I might if they looked like you.”
Snow sighed and hopped out of the car. When I met her at the hood, I pulled the bag off her shoulder and slung it over my own. That only seemed to piss her off more.
“Something wrong?” I asked.
“Oh no,” she mumbled. “I’m just in this dumb uniform, repeating senior year at a snobby private school that wouldn’t admit me even if Omma could afford a semester’s worth of tuition. You keep sneaking glances at my legs when you think I’m not looking. Oh yeah, and I’ve got to make sure nothing happens to you or I’ll be fired. Everything’s just peachy.”
“I can’t believe you just called me out like that.”
“Well, it’s true isn’t it?”
“Not all of it,” I said. “Nothing’s going to happen, Snow. You don’t have to worry about me.”
“Actually, I do,” she said, glancing around. The bell was about to ring, but there were a few stragglers in the lot. “Bodyguard, remember?”
I noticed a couple of freshmen looking at Snow and glared until they looked away.
“God, I hate men.” She frowned. “Those guys checking me out, you opening the door, carrying my bag. All because of this stupid skirt.”
“Hey, I was just trying to be polite,” I said.
“Yeah, but why were you being polite?”
That sounded like a trick question, but I gave it a shot. “Uh…because my mama raised me right?”
“Seriously, though,” she said. “You guys are all alike. Why don’t you see a girl until she’s wearing next to nothing? It’s sick.”
I caught her arm as we reached the doors. The glare she leveled at me didn’t sway me in the slightest. I had to set her straight. Leaning in, I locked eyes with her.
“Don’t get me wrong,” I said. “I love you in that skirt. I look forward to you wearing it often in my presence. But I’ve known you were a girl since the second you kissed me. The skirt’s just a reminder that I have yet to repay the favor.”
By the end, her jaw was hanging open.
I decided to be helpful. My knuckles grazed the underside of her chin as I gently pushed up.
“I think you’re right,” I said, eyes following the movement of her throat as she swallowed.
“About what?” Her voice was real breathy like she’d just run a mile. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t love the effect I had on her.
I shook my head. “People would never believe we’re related.”
* * *
Men are disgusting. Snow was right on that. We were walking to our fourth class, and I couldn’t keep track of all the guys who’d eyeballed her. The hallway was full of people. It was like everyone wanted to know who she was but were too chicken to ask. Cowards.
“AP Chemistry, AP Psychology and Honors Lit,” she read off her schedule. Looking up, she gave me a smile. “Impressive.”
“Thanks,” I said. “Speaking of impressive, you were great in Calculus.”
“Well, math was my thing in school.”
I nudged her arm. “I’m guessing you weren’t too bad in Lit either. Mr. Trumble looked about ready to pee himself when you finished your answer.”
She shrugged, but I saw her lips curve. Snow had interpreted My Last Duchess—this creepy poem we were reading in Lit—with such perfection that old Mr. Trumble was speechless. The man loved to hear himself talk, so that was a miracle right there. In Calculus, she’d raised her hand to answer every question. And got every single one of them right. She was smart. Like really smart. And she wasn’t afraid to show it. I’d always been attracted to smart girls.
“How’d you guys manage to get me in all your classes? Did your mom use her connections?”
“Nope,” I said, stopping at my locker to change books. “That was all Smith.”
Snow frowned. “Agent Smith, the guard from the club.”
“That’s right,” I said, searching her face. “I know you don’t like him, but Smith’s a great hack. He’s crazy good with computers. Getting into the school’s database was a piece of cake. Then all he had to do was match your schedule up with mine.”
“Nice to know he’s good at something,” she muttered.
“Hey, Ash.” Melody, a girl whose name I only knew because her mom was in a book club with mine, waved at me from across the hall. “You coming to the student council meeting?”
“Probably not,” I said, “considering I’m not on the student council.”
“Oh, okay. Talk to you later then.”
“Or not,” I said under my breath as she kept walking. It wasn’t that she was a bad person, but the girl got on my nerves. I’d told her over and over that I wasn’t in student council. I never went to the meetings. Why couldn’t she get that?
“That’s nine,” Snow said.
Turning back to her, I said, “Nine what?”
“She’s the ninth girl to make up some excuse to talk to you.”
“You’re counting? I’m flattered.”
“Don’t be. It’s my job to keep track of who interacts with you.”
Slamming the locker closed, I laughed and took her books. “Counting the girls who hit on me. Is that in the bodyguard handbook or something?”
Before she could answer, a familiar voice said, “Hey, Ash, who’s your friend?”
I closed my eyes, wishing I could pretend I didn’t hear. But she was standing so close. Much as I wanted to run, the good manners Mom taught me kicked in.
“Barbie Buchanan,” I said, unable to keep the distaste out of my voice. Barbie didn’t notice. As I faced her, she smiled real big, flashing a set of perfect white teeth. It reminded me of a shark. “How are you?”
“I’m alright.” She flipped her peroxide blonde hair. “Being a junior sucks. Daddy’s been on my case about getting more volunteer work in, more photo ops for the press. But there are only so many disgusting soup kitchens around, you know? Plus, they always want you to wear those gross hairnets.” Barbie laughed. “Can you imagine me in a hairnet?”
I shook my head. No, I couldn’t imagine her doing anything for anyone else. Barbie was all about Barbie.
Her sharp eyes shifted to Snow. “And who’s this?”
Snow stepped forward, put herself slightly in front of me. She didn’t take her eyes off Barbie, staring at the other girl like she was a threat. I would’ve laughed if it wasn’t true. The younger Buchanan had been my shadow since I came to CCDS. I just couldn’t shake her.
“I’m Snow,” she said flatly. “His cousin.”
“Snow,” Barbie snickered. “Like Snow White, the Disney princess?”
“No, snow like when water freezes and falls to the earth in flakes.”
“That’s a weird name.”
My ninja girl raised a brow. “It’s a hell of a lot better than being named after a children’s toy.”
Barbie sputtered, and I chuckled, couldn’t help it.
“Actually, my namesake comes from my great grandmother, former Congresswoman Barbie Anne Buchanan,” she rallied. “Not some doll and definitely not some form of precipitation.”
Snow shrugged. “Whatever you say.”
Barbie looked about ready to start a fight, one that Snow would no doubt win. But her big brother stepped up and put a hand on her shoulder. Fan-fricking-tastic. I got to deal with both Buchanan brats today.
“Barbie,” he said, glaring at me, “is something wrong? Did Stryker say something to upset you?”
“No, Buddy, it’s just this girl,” Barbie said, pouting. “I came over to invite Ash to our Halloween party, and she just started insulting me.”
Buddy Buchanan Jr. gave Snow a quick look then turned back to his sister. “You know you can’t invite him. Dad would never allow a Stryker in our house.”
“Yeah, but I want to.” She dropped a card on top of my books. “That’s the invite Ash. The party’s three weeks from now on the 31st. I really hope you can make it. Leave your cousin at home, though, alright?”
Buddy just shook his head. “Dad’s not going to like this.”
“As if I’d set foot in your house anyway, Buchanan.” I handed the card back to his sister, who frowned. “Sorry, Barbie, I can’t. My dad would kill me if he knew I walked into enemy territory.”
Snow looked up. “Enemy territory?”
“Yeah,” I said, holding out a hand. “These are Buddy Buchanan’s kids, the incumbent Senator who my dad’s running against.”
“He should save himself the embarrassment,” Buddy Jr. sniffed. “No way a Stryker’s winning this race. The Buchanans have been in politics for years.”
“Maybe that’s why things are still so screwed up.”
“Maybe you should stay away from my sister,” he said back.
“You should tell her to stay away from me.” That made his eyes flair. “Let’s go, Snow. It’s almost time for lunch.”
We hadn’t gone five feet before Buddy Jr. called me back.
“Hey, Ash!” he said, and I turned—just in time to see a red circle getting bigger and bigger as it hurtled toward my head. The bastard had thrown an apple at me. And with his pitching arm, too. This was so going to hurt.
Snow’s hand whipped up and caught the apple inches from my face.
I let out a breath I hadn’t known I was holding—then I charged the asshole.
“You could’ve hit her,” I said, pushing him back. The kid was about to get the shit beat out of him.
“I was aiming at you,” he said dazed.
“What is wrong with you?” I grabbed onto his shirt and shook him. “Didn’t you see how close she was? What if you’d thrown too wide? Snow could’ve been seriously injured.”
He looked at me then, sounding incredulous. “Stryker, I’m starting pitcher for the Wombats. That was my best fastball. How the hell did she catch it barehanded?”
Snow had the quickest reflexes I’d ever seen, but he hadn’t known that when he let the apple fly. My anger burned hotter by the second.
“Hit me,” I said, stepping back.
“What?”
“Hit me, man. Let’s have this out, right now.” Dad would kill me later, but something in me had snapped. I hardly even noticed all the people surrounding us. Seeing Snow rip that apple out of the air had been sweet—until I considered the danger. Now, it was on. “I’ve been wanting to kick your ass, Buchanan. And you just gave me the perfect reason.”
“Screw you, Stryker,” he spat.
I pulled my fist back, ready to break his nose—but Snow stopped me. Stepping between us, she took a big bite of the apple then tossed it back to Buddy Jr.
“Nice throw,” she said. A crazy smile lit her face. “If you try it again, I’ll break your hand.”
Mr. Trumble pushed his way through the crowd, demanding to know what was going on, while Buddy Jr. and his sister just stood there, shocked. As Snow and I were walking away, I said, “Hey, are you okay?”
Snow rolled her eyes. “I’m fine.”
“You sure?” I asked. “That apple was moving pretty fast.”
“Yeah, it was,” she said and shook out her hand. “But I wish you wouldn’t have picked a fight with that Buddy guy. I’m supposed to be your bodyguard, remember? Not the other way around.”
“But you could’ve been hurt.” Despite what she said, Snow was in pain. I knew that much by the way she kept flexing her fingers. “Let me see your hand.”
Ignoring her protests, I lifted her right hand and turned it over. There was a light bruise in the center of her palm.
“I’ll kill the bastard.”
“No,” Snow said, “you’ll stay far away. Could the Buchanans be the ones sending your dad those letters?”
“I guess,” I said. I’d never thought about it before, but they definitely had good reason. With Dad out of the race, running unopposed, Buddy Senior would be a shoo-in. “But Barbie would never do something so time consuming. Cutting letters out of different magazines? Too much effort.”
“Plus, she has a crush on you,” she murmured. “But that Buddy seems to hate you.”
“Buddy Jr. would never have the guts.”
She gave me that blank look again. “He just attacked you in front of a hallway of witnesses.”
“You’re right.” I ran my thumb lightly over her palm. “Thanks for saving my life, ninja girl.”
Blushing, she pulled her hand away. “It was only an apple. It wouldn’t have killed you.”
“Yeah, but it would’ve hurt like hell.”
The rest of the day went by like clockwork. No more fruit flying at my head, Snow did her thing in class, and I just sat back and watched her work. It wasn’t until we went out to the parking lot and saw my car—or rather the state of my car—that things got serious. The Buchanans were nowhere to be seen, and after Snow’s warning, I honestly didn’t think Buddy Jr. would have the balls. Veronica was in the same spot where I’d left her that morning, but the driver’s side sported deep grooves in the paint that formed letters.
The message: DROP OUT NOW!
I couldn’t believe it. My car had been keyed.
And Snow looked like she wanted to hit something.