Uppercut Princess (The Heights Crew #1)(13)

He gives me space to move out of the way, and I push through only to stop short when I see who’s standing only a few feet away. Oscar’s leaning back against a locker, looking much like I saw him on the first day of school. He kicks off the row of metal as soon as we spot one another. “What’s this?” he asks, looking between Brawler and me.

The heat from Brawler’s torso warms my back as soon as he steps behind me. When he speaks, his voice sounds gruffer. “I was warning her to stay away from Nevaeh.”

A cocky grin stretches Oscar’s lips. “Yeah, I guess she really didn’t like what happened earlier, huh?”

Brawler nods. “That’s the word being passed around.”

Oscar reaches out to play with the short hair around my temple that’s escaped from my ponytail. “I guess I should’ve seen that coming. Nevaeh doesn’t like being taken down a peg or two. Even when she’s in the wrong.”

“She wants to fight Princess here.”

My jaw locks. That fucking name needs to die. Instead of blowing up, I smile sweetly at Oscar. “I told Brawler it was a misunderstanding.”

Oscar’s arm drops down to his side. He peeks over my shoulder at Brawler then back at me. “Whether it was or wasn’t, doesn’t change anything.”

The look in his eyes is cold. A familiarity seeps through me. I recognize some of myself in him.

“You can fix this, man,” Brawler says. “Look at her,” he says, motioning toward me, “She’s going to get seriously hurt. She doesn’t belong here.”

I guess no one has ever told these guys that appearances aren’t everything. Wasn’t that something we should’ve learned a long time ago? Don’t judge a book by its cover and all that jazz? These guys are going to have a rude awakening when I step into that ring.

Oscar laughs. The sound chills me. He’s perfected the art of not giving a fuck. I suspect a lot of the people here have—except Brawler. I still can’t figure out why he’s even giving me the time of day. “Why would I do that? I said she was going to last two days, today’s the second day. She’ll probably run home tonight after the threat of violence and beg her parents to take her the hell away from here.”

“I don’t have parents,” I say

Brawler talks over me. “This one’s on you then, man. Remember that.”

“Isn’t everything on me?”

Brawler and Oscar stare at one another. Unspoken words pass between them. Their eyes flare, their muscles bunch. They’re having a battle of wills I’m not privy to, but I can taste the testosterone they exert on my tongue. It smells like bad decisions and musk.

My heart flutters.

I don’t dare speak or move while they eye one another. It’s Oscar who moves first. He holds his arm out to me. “Lunch?”

I stare at his offered hand and then up to him. “Um, what?”

“Sit with me at lunch.”

“Isn’t that just going to piss Nevaeh off more?”

“Yes, but I suspect it’s also going to piss someone else off.” His eyes flick behind me. “Which makes it that much more exciting.”

I look over my shoulder to find Brawler shaking his head. He walks away, his long strides taking him away far quicker than if I were to hurry off the same way.

A grin teases Oscar’s lips. “I swear I’m a nicer guy than Brawler makes me out to be.”

“Didn’t you just say that I was only going to last two days and you were okay with that?”

“That’s just years of experience talking.” He drops his voice, murmuring into the now empty hall. “There’s no shame in running away.” Even though he offers it with a grin, I’m not meant to take him up on it.

Despite myself, I’m more curious than ever about these two. Oscar seems lost, and I never would’ve guessed that the guy who puts on the Crew fights has a conscience. He’s worried for me, and if I had to take a stab at what he was doing this morning on our way to school, I’d bet he was watching me to make sure I made it okay.

Oscar leans over as we start walking down the hallway. “Do me a favor. If Nevaeh calls you out, make sure you kick her ass for me.”

He keeps his head facing forward, but I turn to look at his profile. His eyes are dark, clouded over with a mixture of anger, self-loathing, and something much fiercer.

There’s definitely something more to these guys than I originally thought.

Like this morning, Oscar drops my arm like he never even wanted it in the first place. I stop just outside the lunchroom as he walks in, greeted by a myriad of other students. In there, there’s no trace of the guy who wants revenge on the girl who wronged him. In there, people fall all over him because of who he is.

Back in my old school, the only ones who were treated like that were the ultra-rich. Here, Oscar’s three rungs from the top on the gang life pyramid, which makes him a damn hero. Those who don’t like him still tolerate him because they know what he has at his disposal.

An arm moves around my shoulders, dropping there like it belongs. I immediately jump and stiffen when I see who it is. The guy’s eyes widen with recognition. “Ahh, you get around, don’t you?” His snicker makes me want to vomit. “I see you’ve met Oscar, probably in more ways than one already. No wonder why I hear Nevaeh’s gunning for you.”