D R A Y S • P O V

This is from the first chapter when they first interact.

"Heads up!"

It's like watching a train wreck. You want to do something to help but all you can do is watch and wince. The ball spirals through the air and I clench my jaw as it heads straight for the petite blonde about 45 feet away.

When I'm sure it's about to smack her square in the face, she looks up and manages to catch it lightning quick before it breaks her nose. My eyes widen in surprise at the impressive reflexes.

"Sorry!"

I wave my hands, signalling for her to throw it back, but I start jogging forward, knowing it'll only make it half way. She steps back and pulls the ball over her shoulder before she launches it forward and it actually makes it all the way with an impressive amount of force.

A couple of the boys clap and holler at the throw that I can't believe just came from one of our cheerleaders. I'd like to see any one of them handle a ball that isn't made of flesh like that. I watch the girl who we've come to know as cheer pear, strut towards the locker rooms, her hips sway back and forth and I grin at the little scowl on her face when she looks back at us over her shoulder.

She's always had a bit of an attitude. From what I've noticed anyway. We'd all come to accept that she's an introverted loner. But damn, with an arm like that, I can't help but feel my interest peaked at who she is. Call me easily impressed, but your every day cheerleader can't lob a ball with that amount of skill.

"Dray!" Maxon gives me a nod as I head towards my cubby in the locker rooms after practice. "Emily was asking for you outside before."

"Fuck that." I mumble, shoving gears into my gym bag. I can't be bothered hanging around for a shower today. I'll have one when I get home.

"Was that Dallas Bryan?" James shouts from across the room, Maxon and I glance in his direction with confused expressions. "The girl who threw the ball. Cheer pear."

"Oh," I'd almost forgotten she had an actual name. In fact I couldn't even remember who came up with her nickname anymore.

That pear shaped ass though..

"Yeah it was." I shrug, adopting indifference. I didn't need to let them know that I'm curious as hell to find out more about her. I feel a bit pathetic that one non verbal encounter with her has me hung up.

She's different though. That's for damn sure.

"Man, she's fucking hot." Maxon hollers and a few of the boys begin to agree. Before long there's an onslaught of dirty talk happening. What they'd do to her if they had the chance, how they'd have her begging for more. I'm not a saint, I've partaken in the locker room talk on more than one occasion, so it's a bit fucking startling to feel myself closing off. I don't wanna talk that shit about her. Which is weird, because I've done it before and I don't even know her.

"... and you know she's flexible so sh-"

"I'm off." I interrupt Maxon's in depth analysis on how the human anatomy works. "I'll see y'all tomorrow."

I head out to my bike and notice that cheers car is still in the car park. I know it's hers because I've always wondered why she drives such a dinky little thing. I used to imagine her in a girly Audi or something feminine like that. After seeing her throw that ball, I now imagine her driving a big ute or something ballsy.

I hop on the bike and contemplate waiting for her so that I can talk to her about where she learned to throw like that. But I know that if Emily catches us she'll get on some fucked up vendetta and piss me off for a solid week straight. So a bright but most likely stupid idea comes to mind and I decide to act on it before I convince myself that it's reckless.

I start my bike and circle the parking lot, coming back towards her car, I slow down, get as close as I can and scrape the back bumper with my guard. It'll cost me a little but I'm not too worried. I quickly tear out of the parking lot and park across the road, waiting for her to leave so I can follow her home. I begin to think that I'm being a creep. But my intentions are innocent. I just want to talk to her.

•

Just go and knock on the door you fucking pussy.

I stare at the small house. It's like, super small. The front fence looks like it could use some TLC. The gardens are dead and the weatherboards are beginning to wither. Truthfully, I couldn't give a damn what her house looks like. It's just not what I'd expected, again.

With a deep breath, I finally find my balls and jump off my motorbike. Cheer looked pissed when she saw the scrape on the bumper of her car. It's easily fixed. The wad of cash in my pocket will make her happy.

My hand raps the faded door and I'm almost certain that I hear a soft voice curse from inside. A few moments later, she swings the door open. She doesn't seem surprised to see me. She doesn't blush or giggle or respond in the way that I've become so accustomed to from females these days. Not to sound egocentric of course, but it happens more often than not.

I can't help but notice the front of her shirt is soaked from the neckline, down and it reveals a black lace bra. I'm not being a perv per say, but the stark contrast is a little hard to miss.

"Hot bra." I grin. Her reaction to my presence has thrown me a bit and when in doubt, say something cocky. I'm not a huge fan of not having the upper hand. I prefer it when they're a nervous mess. Not me.

But once again, she remains expressionless. Her hand rests on the door handle, the other on her hip while she stares at me with boredom. "Are you lost?"

Alright, now I really don't know what the fuck is happening. My hand instinctually slides inside my pocket in search of my cigarettes. It's a shit habit. One I'd prefer to drop. But unless I can find another way to cope with the occasional anxiety and nervous shakes, then they're here to stay. I feel so fucking pathetic that I get worked up. Every since Abby died, I've been prone to these physical attributes. Nervous shuffling, stuttering, laboured breathing. A cigarette serves as a distraction for myself. It's a coping method. I hate it. But it's better than the alternative.

"Na I actually hit your car at school today." I shrug and pop the cigarette in my mouth, patting down my pockets for a lighter.

She sighs with frustration. "Can you not?"

I ignore her because she can't tell me what to do. But before I'd even ignited the lighter in my hand, a dainty hand comes into view and snatches the stick right out of my mouth. She snaps it in half and throws it on the ground with an unapologetic smile. All I can do is stare at her. That was rude but I'm not mad. Why the fuck aren't I mad.

She's cute.

What the fuck?

"That was you?" She asks, a finger pointed at me.

"Yeah, sorry." I straighten up and attempt to get a grip, shoving my hands into my pockets and leaning against the door frame. I mean, how sorry can I be when I did it on purpose?

Her eyes narrow and she stares at me with suspicion. At least, that's what it looks like. "How'd you find out where I live."

Well, I've come this far. Save for telling her that I hit her car intentionally, I might as well be honest. "I followed you."

"Why didn't you just tell me at school?"

I lean off the frame and avert my gaze. Alright, so I'm not going to board the honesty train entirely.

"Oh I see!" She nods, a smile that scares me a little on her lips. "You didn't want anyone to see you talking to me."

"What? No!" She's so far off. I'm not even sure what makes her think that could be the reason. But I don't think my masculinity can take any more hits this afternoon and if I tell her that I'm afraid of my ex, for both of our sakes, I'll have my balls revoked.

"Save it." She interrupts my thoughts while I think of something to say. "Follow me. If you haven't taken too many balls to the head, maybe you can actually fix this."

She steps down out of the house and when she brushes past my chest, I notice how short she is.

Cute.

Stop.

"Uh, I was actually just gonna give you some cash." I follow along behind her. I feel like a bit of a cuck considering she assumes I'll just fix it with my bare hands when in truth I've never done anything like that in my life.

"Are you serious!" She spins around so quickly that I almost bump into her. "What kind of man are you?"

Oh, just when I thought my masculinity couldn't become any more impaired. I was wrong. What makes it worse is that it looks as though she's trying not to laugh. She bites down on her lip and squints as though the sun is too bright. It's cute.

Fuck.

"Look," I say with a clipped tone, not loving that she keeps getting the one up on me. "It had nothing to do with people seeing me talk to you. I was waiting on my bike for whoever owned the car and then I saw you getting.. really pissed off. So I figured I'd save a scene at school and just come here."

She glances out at the road and her eyes widen at the sight of my baby. I study her expression while she's immersed in admiring it's beauty. I can tell she likes it, even when her expression starts to become one of confusion.

I kind of want to see her on the back of my bike. She'd suit it. Hell, would she suit it. Her petite body wrapped around mine, those legs, that a-

"Okay," she sighs, interrupting my sweet albeit somewhat sensual fantasy and gives me a small appreciative smile. "Well I appreciate you coming to own up. I think it might cost around—" she narrows her gaze thoughtfully — "two maybe three grand."

"Get off."

She rolls her eyes and I can't deal with her attitude. It'd piss me off if I didn't like it so much. Why do I like it?! I pull out another cigarette but it's snatched from between my fingers and I watch as she once again, snaps it in half.

"Can you quit it!? Those things aren't fucking free."

"No but they are disgusting and you don't have permission to smoke on my property! Didn't you get that the first two times I more or less told you that."

Ugh. I can't argue with that I suppose. She flashes a big wide smile, exposing her perfect pearly whites. Part of me wants to compliment her smile. Tell her that it's fucking gorgeous. But I don't. I roll my eyes instead and pull the cap out of my back pocket, swiping the sweat beads from my forehead before I slip it on backwards.

"You're doing it wrong." She gives me a pointed look with a raised brow and gestures at my head. "The hat serves no purpose if you don't turn it around."

"It looks better backwards," I shrug. I like the way she cares. She doesn't want me to smoke or be unprotected from the sun. I find it kind of hot. But do I tell her that? "What do you care anyway," I slide my hand into the front pocket of my pants and pull out a wad of cash. "Here. Get your car fixed."

"Dallas!" We both look in the direction of the voice and spot some dude climbing out of the back of a car.

"Hey Nathan!" She smiles in return. Does she live with this guy? Is it her boyfriend?

Why the fuck do I care?

But when he gets closer and lobs a football in her direction, she once again catches it with flawless form and I realise that he's Nathan Bryan. He'd been the quarterback for Archwood years ago. He's such a legend that Coach has him on his wall, along with a bunch of other epic football formers.

Nathan Bryan.

Dallas Bryan.

Of course.

So this is where she gains her athletic ability from. It makes more sense now.

I greet Nathan, introducing myself and engaging in a bit of chat, all the while I can feel Cheer staring at me. I won't lie, it's a bit of a boost to have her ogling me from my peripheral vision. Even if she is blatantly staring at the tattoo on my arm.

Maybe one day. Maybe.

When I'm offered the chance to stay for dinner, I take it. How can I not? Apart from the fact that there's a promise of cold beer and barbecue, I can't pass up the chance to wind her up a little. She hadn't seemed at all bothered by my presence until I was invited to stay. I suppose getting a reaction from her was what I'd wanted the entire time. I took it and ran.

And as much teasing went on during the meal, I learnt things about her. I even confessed a few of my own secrets. I hadn't been planning to share what happened between Emily and I during the Fourth of July, but I suppose in that moment, I felt I could trust her and I hoped that didn't come back to bite me in the ass.

I'm a little hung up on the part of the meal where Nathan had mentioned the regular male company. I had kind of pegged her for a virgin, it sort of went hand in hand with loner. But that theory was quickly becoming squashed by not only that revelation, but her attitude too. She holds herself so damn well. She says it like it is. She's confident and I'm so fucking intrigued that she's all I can think about when I finally walk through the front door later that night.

"Where have you been?" Dad asks from the living room sofa. He and Mom are sat watching some desperate hags of Hollywood show.

"Practice went late." I explain, heading into the kitchen opposite the living space. Grayson gives me a quick head nod and carries on stuffing his face with twinkies. I don't want to mention that I was with a girl because then I'll have to listen to their contradicting arguments. Dad will say I need to forget about girls until I get to college. Mom will want to hear all about her and make sure that she isn't going to sleep with any of the other family members.

"What happened to your bike?!"

Shit. I'd forgotten to put it straight in the garage. The living room window stares directly out on to the driveway. Rookie move.

"I dinged it at school!" I shout from the fridge, where there is jack all to eat. As usual. What the fuck. I'm an athlete that works out more often than I do anything else. Why there's never food here, is beyond me. "I'll pay for it. No big deal!"

"That's going to cost a shît ton Drayton!" He calls back with a clipped tone.

I swipe a bottled smoothie out of the fridge and start heading upstairs, murmuring to myself as I go, "worth it."

• • •
Did you like Drayton's POV? I plan to do more if you did :)

Dray with a dog makes me flustered.