Athena

My next class is Algebra, which passes quickly. Like my other classes, I half-listen and doodle on the paper I got from the teacher.

Before long, the lunch bell rings, and I trudge through the hallways to Mason. We always eat together. Most people would be sick of their siblings, but not me. Mason is my best friend, so we're always together. He's the only person I feel entirely comfortable being around.

When I find Mason, he's beside my locker with my backpack slung over his shoulder. He smiles and passes it to me, letting me shove it in my locker before we walk to the lunchroom. "Have any more trouble with Lexi?" I ask as we creep through the lunch line.

Mason shakes his head. "Nah, she got the message earlier," he answers. I bob my head and pay for our lunch.

The walk through the lunchroom was more manageable than walking through the hallways, and soon, we're at our usual table. "So, any new information on tonight?" I ask, taking a bite of my burger. I hope the rookie backs out and picks a fight where he has a chance of winning.

"Nothing new, but there'll probably be a dropout. You can grab the spot if we're there early enough," he says. Sometimes, people drop out of their fights right before they're supposed to start. Some give lame excuses, and others don't bother showing up. I've had a few opponents drop their fight with me before, and it's irritating because it makes me lose money and wastes my time.

I box to let out excess energy and honor my dad. He used to fight. They called him The Wolf, and he was one of the best. Fighting keeps his memory alive.

Suddenly, a tray smacks down on the table with a loud thud, making me jump. I whip my head up and quickly bite my tongue to suppress the words that threaten to spew from my mouth, like word vomit. Drake smirks down at me, probably liking that he caught me off guard, and sits to my left. Alec, Ross, and Chase sit across from us. 

"Hello, Button," Ross greets, snatching up one of my fries. Without thinking, I throw my hand out and grab his wrist, twisting it and freeing my fry. The fry falls back onto my plate with a plop, and I drop his hand with a smirk. 

"Wha-? How?" Ross gapes. There's a particular pleasure to gain from shocking someone speechless- a treat I really shouldn't enjoy.

"Don't take her food," Mason warns- too late- in a sing-song voice while munching on his fries. Ross shakes his head and pulls his hand back to his side.

"So," Drake starts, "Ross won't tell me your name." I glance at Ross before cutting my eyes to Drake. He's studying me. The intense swirl of blue in his eyes makes me shiver, so I turn away. Without looking at Drake, I take a bite out of my burger. I don't need to look, though. I can tell he's still staring.

"Probably because he doesn't know it," I mumble, shrugging a shoulder. Drake grunts in response but says nothing else, so I continue eating and listen as Mason talks to the guys. They introduce themselves, and before long, the conversation turns towards free time and sports. None of it interests me, though. 

After a while, the shrill bell rings. So annoying. I groan. PE is next, and Lucas and his gang of friends are in that class too. I'm not able to keep away from him or Lexi long enough to have a peaceful day. At first, I thought they made sure one of them was always in my classes, but they don't have that kind of power.

Once I've thrown my trash away, I drag myself to the gym and into the girl's locker room. To go unnoticed, I keep my head down as I yank my gym locker open to grab the school-issued gym uniform.

Begrudgingly, I pull on the inadequate outfit. With Lexi being the Queen Bee and Lucas somehow being the head of the student committee, they picked out the new uniforms: short shorts and white v-neck shirts that become see-through as soon as you sweat. Anyone with a brain can see these "uniforms" are inappropriate. The principal just doesn't want to go against his student committee since Lucas' parents and my step-monster gave the school "very generous donations."

As soon as I'm changed, I head to the gym. When I walk in, everyone's already sitting on the bleachers, waiting for Coach's instructions. I sit on the end of the bleachers, away from everyone, but as I take my seat, Drake catches my attention. Did he have to be in all my classes? I sigh and close my eyes, silently cursing my bad luck.

Before I can open my eyes, someone rips my glasses off my face. Frowning, I spin around to find Lucas and two of his friends laughing. "Do you need these, nerd?" Lucas taunts.

"Give them back, Lucas!" I order, keeping up the guise. Lucas laughs and throws the glasses across the room. I run to catch the flying glasses, but one of Lucas's friends caught them. "Give them back!" I yell again. The surrounding guys laugh, making a game out of it and throwing the glasses back and forth.

In the end, Lucas catches my glasses again. He saunters up to me and holds them high above my head. "If you can reach them, you can have them back." He smirks, knowing I wouldn't be able to reach the glasses because of my short stature.

I need the glasses, but not in the usual sense. Just like Clark Kent, the glasses play as part of my facade. I don't want to give up that mask just yet. I need everyone to see what I want them to see.

Work smarter.

My dad said that to me all the time. If there was a larger, stronger opponent, take them down by being smarter, by thinking. I might be smaller, but I could be more intelligent, quicker, and more flexible than my opponents.

Smirking, I sweep my leg out. Lucas, surprised, falls against the gym floor with a thud and a groan. He drops the glasses, and I jump forward, grabbing them. Luckily, they didn't crack the lenses, so I slide them back on as Lucas curses and stands back up with an angry expression on his face.

"You little-"

I'm turning away when he grabs my arm and slams his fist into my jaw. Surprised, I stumble back and fall, landing with a startled yelp. Pain sears through my face, and because I wasn't expecting the hit, I have to blink back tears.

The room erupts into yells and sounds of skin hitting skin. I look up just in time to see Drake hammer his fist into Lucas's face. It's something I've always wanted to do. Lucas's body slumps against the ground like mine had, blood pouring out of his nose. He groans and moans before rolling onto his side.

"Never hit a girl," Drake seethes. I watch as Lucas lifts his hand to his bleeding nose and nods his head.

When I touch the sore spot on my cheek, I whimper. Opponents have hit me before, but I have time to prepare because I expect it. When I'm in a fight, I can defend myself. Also, Lucas had never hit me before, so I didn't expect it either.

Wincing, I climb to my feet, ignoring the stares from Drake and his friends. I turn and run. I have to get away from their eyes.

Don't show pain.

Don't show weakness.

"Wait!" Drake yells, running after me. The sound of his pounding steps is close enough that when I slow down, he catches up. I take a minute to lean against the lockers and watch him approach. His hands are outstretched like I'm a wild animal that'll bolt as soon as he gets near. The thought makes my heart lurch. This guy has defended me more than once, and he deserves my thanks.

His hand wraps around my bicep, making me close my eyes. I don't know if I should look at him. I spend so much time blocking people out; it scares me to think of letting someone in.

"Hey, look at me," Drake murmurs. He hooks a finger under my chin, and with little pressure, he tilts my chin and connects our eyes.

I expect to see narrowed eyes, a straight, angry face, and thin lips. Instead, I see round, worried eyes with a slight frown. I stare, and when I don't speak, Drake sighs. "Are they always like that?" I nod.

Always teasing.

Always mocking.

Always humiliating.

Always making life more challenging.

"He's never hit me before," I whisper, forcing my eyes away from his. Drake's eyes are beautiful. So blue, they reminded me of the deepest ocean.

A loud bang startles me, making me raise my head. Drake is no longer in front of me. His fist is buried in a now dented locker. "I hate bullies," he growls, not necessarily to me while leaning his forehead against the cool metal. He doesn't look at me but directs his glare at the scuffed linoleum floor. 

"Athena," I whisper, stepping closer to the angry teen.

His head snaps up. "Athena?" He repeats, confused. He shoves off the locker, and the space between us disappears as he steps closer. I hold my breath, trying to calm my racing heart, yet the closer he gets, the faster my heart runs.

"My name is Athena," I mumble, looking up at him. His breath fans against my forehead, causing goosebumps to pebble my skin.

He smiles and wraps his arms around me. I don't expect the movement which gives him a chance to pull me against him. For a second, I tense up. Drake tightens his hold. Comfort washes over me, and I relax, letting him hold me up. "Thank you," I breathe, leaning my head on his chest.

Maybe he's not as bad as I thought.