Lydia’s P.O.V
“Did I just hear you say ‘touch my bike and you’re dead’?” The boy with the short hair and gorgeous eyes spoke like I’d just cracked a joke. I shouldn’t exactly be calling him a boy but he wasn’t a man either. It was that awkward state where he was too rugged to be a boy and still had those soft touches to be a man.
From the corner of my eyes, I saw a crowd forming around us and most of the faces showed open concern and some, which I’m guessing were the new students like me, showed open curiosity. And then someone whispered into the newbie’s ears and their look just turned into horror. Shrugging, I held my ground and locked my eyes to brilliant sea green ones.
“Did I stutter?” I asked him instead.
Something dark crossed over his face and he walked over to stand in front of me, almost invading my personal space. He was tall, over six feet, but I was used to craning my neck to speak to my brothers all the time so it was hardly a challenge. But my temper spiked when he had the audacity to place his index finger under my chin and lift it up with a jerk so he could look down at my face.
For a second, my vision turned blank before his face came into hazy focus. But I didn’t let my expression change because I was used to these sudden blank spots in my vision and by now, I’d gotten better at recovering from them.
“Listen here, little girly,” the boy spoke harshly. “If you don’t want your jaw handed to you in a silver platter, you’d remove that dangly bike from my parking spot or take it back home in p-OW! What the fuck, you little bitch!”
Everyone in the crowd gasped as the boy stepped back a few feet, cradling his thumb in his other hand. He looked at his bent finger in awe and I was surprised at how good he was at masking his pain. It was a good thing that my brother was a physiotherapist and he had taught me how to dislocate certain bones with ease. The little biker boy had made a grave mistake when he had placed his hands on me.
“I don’t like people touching me without my consent.” I told him now and stepped towards him. I was much shorter than him but a girl had other ways of being intimidating. “So the next time you try anything funny, remember that I can give you more than a dislocated thumb.”
With that, I took his hand in mine and cracked the bones back into place with a satisfying ‘pop’ and a hiss of clenched teeth, so that his thumb was good and working. “Put some ice on it and you’ll be as good as new. And stay the hell away from my bike if you don’t want your shoulders dislocated next.” With that said, I turned and headed back to the college building, the stunned crowd parting way to get away from me in fear.
I’d hardly crossed the circle that that formed around me when I heard laughter, hard and rough, from behind me. I turned to find the same boy smirking at me as he strode towards me. Mentally, I prepared myself for a fight, knowing full well that I couldn’t possibly take on the 200 pound giant on my own if he decided to make mincemeat out of me. The only reason I was able to dislocate his thumb was because he had been standing very close to me and he had been distracted. And also my brother had taught me to take people by surprise and make my point clear in the first round. It was obvious that Mr. Monstrous over here wasn’t the least bit intimidated by me.
But what made me stand my ground even at a time like this was the fact that the guy was a bully and I’d seen firsthand what happens when bullies are left to run wild and free for too long. But what surprised me was that he didn’t come as close or put his hands on me this time like he had a few minutes ago. Instead, he just looked down on me with those beautiful gemstone green eyes and smirked.
“You got some moves, kitty cat.” He smirked. “I’ll have fun breaking you.”
With that, he just walked past me like nothing had happened and the crowd dispersed immediately.
It didn’t take me long to figure out why the guy was feared by everyone at this college. Apparently, his name was David Lyric Donovan but everyone just calls him Lyric. He’s the school’s quintessential bad boy with all the reputation that comes along with it. No, he didn’t wear leather jackets and trousers but he had a reputation for getting into ugly fights and didn’t care if he had to go to jail a few times because he took a fight too far. All in all, he seemed to be the perfect bully.
All throughout the day, I’d been congratulated by several people in different classes for escaping a near-death experience and warned to never be that stupid as to cross paths with Lyric ever again. Surprisingly, he didn’t just have a group of people who feared him but he also had an ever growing fan-club as well. With Lyric, fights were very common, almost a regular phenomenon, so much so that even the college authorities had stopped interfering in them. And one of the main reasons for that was the fact that his parents were very wealthy and paid a huge sum to the trustee board to mind their own business.
Which is why, at the end of the day, when I went to collect my bike from the parking so I could head home, I wasn’t at all surprised to hear the shouts of several people yelling ‘fight, fight’ as they formed a circle right in the middle of the basketball court. I already knew what I’d find when I stepped into that circle but I did so anyway, unable to explain to myself why I was interested in Lyric in the first place. I knew that in my condition, the doctors had strictly forbidden me to do anything too exciting or something that could end up hurting me, but me being the stubborn person that I am, I couldn’t help but join the crown and watch as Lyric pounded a man twice his size into a bloody pulp.
Thankfully, before I could interfere, a school staff came running over and an ambulance siren could be heard not long after. The crowd immediately quieted and began to slip away one by one from the area until the only people left were some of the school staff, the wounded man, Lyric, the paramedics and me.
The paramedics hauled Lyric off of the man and immediately put him on the stretcher and went off with him to the hospital. I couldn’t hear what the school staff told Lyric but they didn’t seem very happy with the fight. Soon, the courtyard was clear of almost all people except for the two of us. I was leaning against the back wall and watching Lyric pant as he wiped his bloody hands on his trousers. But then suddenly, he turned his gaze to me and I realized immediately that he had known all along that I’d been watching him.
“Enjoying the show, Miss Lydia McKenzie?” He asked menacingly. Clearly, he’d done his own share of research just like I’d done mine.
How far that research went however, was yet unknown to me. But I had a feeling, we were about to get into another little fight and it might not end in my favor.