My face throbbed where he struck me with the ball, and as I neared, he laughed even harder. It took him but a minute to absorb the fury oozing from my pores, and his laughter faded, morphing into his signature smirk.
I didn’t think. I could only react, and before I knew what I was doing, before common sense could prevail, my slender fingers wrapped around his puny neck.
#
A whistle blew behind me, and far too soon, Mr. Gorby yanked me off of him. “That is enough. Enough!” he yelled. He stood in between us, eyeing me like I was deranged. And maybe I was, because when Carson chuckled again, I made to lunge at him once more.
Mr. Gorby pushed my shoulders back, no longer a teacher but a bouncer in a club, holding back a crazed patron. Behind me, I heard someone—I think it might have been Tasha—mutter “she’s crazy,” which was fantastic, really. All I needed to top this crap-show of a day was to have the entire school talking about how I—Mia Randalls—had officially lost my marbles.
I pulled in a shaky breath and yanked on the hem of my blouse, smoothing it with the palm of my hand and lifting my chin, ever the lady, the model student. But as sanity slowly trickled in, I felt my cheeks heat as I realized the gravity of what I had done.
I had, literally, tried to choke Carson out. I mean, sure, he deserved it, but strangling a classmate wasn’t exactly something I wanted on my school record, was it?
I mustered as much dignity as I could, avoiding Carson’s gaze as Mr. Gorby glared at me. “To the Principal’s Office. Now.”
I heard Carson snicker before the sub turned in his direction and pointed. “Both of you.”
Turning, I shot Carson a smug look before the teacher could notice.
“What? Why me?” Carson waved a hand toward me. “She’s the one that tried to strangle me.”
“Oh, and her eye just swelled up like that on its own?”
My mouth twisted, satisfied. See, you had it coming, my face said.
“Fine,” Carson muttered.
“Um. Do they maybe need a chaperone?” Harper asked from behind me, sounding a bit scared.
“They’ll make it there together just fine. Like civilized people. Am I right?” the substitute asked, though it was more a demand than a question.
I nodded, at least having the decency to look contrite, but when I glimpsed Carson, he smiled like this was all some big joke.
The sub should’ve let me choke him out.
I glared daggers at him as he came up beside me.
“Shorty?” he said, offering his arm to me.
I grimaced, ignoring his arm and the heinous nickname and spun around, heading for the gym doors, putting as much distance between us as possible.
Once I stepped out into the hall, the smack of his tennis shoes over the linoleum soon followed as he hurried to catch up. When he appeared by my side, instead of walking next to me, he pulled ahead.
I narrowed my eyes on his back. He was so tall and his shoulders so broad, I could hardly see past them.
I pumped my arms, moving my feet faster until I was speed-walking past, Carson at my rear. Ha!
“What’s the hurry, Randalls?” Carson said behind me.
I glanced back, and he seized the opportunity to step in front of me again, but his legs were so long he didn’t even look like he was trying. His stride was effortless, natural.
It annoyed me.
I huffed and balled my fists at my side. Who cares if he walks in front of you? There is no hurry. You do NOT need to get there first. This isn’t about winning, Mia.
I folded my arms over my chest, pushing the bubbling anger aside, trying to focus on something other than Carson’s obnoxious swagger.
Oh, who was I kidding?
I took off in a jog, shamelessly smiling at him as I flew past, sending him to my rear where he belonged. Suddenly, our trek to the gallows became a race. When he pulled ahead, I did whatever necessary to best him. My lungs screamed, but my body vibrated with triumph. I huffed a breath as we rounded the corner, when Carson called out, “Hey, that’s okay. I like the view better from back here anyway.”
I stopped dead in my tracks, my feet turning to cement as my head whipped back to see his eyes on my butt. “Abso-lutely not,” I said.
“What?” He shrugged. “I am a guy, after all, and you actually kind of have a nice—”
“Finish that sentence and you’re a dead man,” I said, poking him in the ribs as he drew near.
He chuckled and caught my finger in his warm grip.
A zing of electricity shot through my hand and I yanked it away, shaking it out. Even his touch was weaponized.
“Sorry about your eye,” he murmured, his gaze drifting over my face.
“Yeah, you look really sorry.”
He raised his hands in surrender, but one corner of his mouth tipped in a crooked smile. “It was an accident, I swear.”
I pursed my lips. The laughter in his voice said otherwise.
Right, an accident, I wanted to say. Like the time he stuck his foot out and tripped me on the way to Ethan’s room. I nearly tumbled down the stairs. Or all of the times between classes where he accidentally mowed me down in the hall. Or the way he spilled his drink all over me at lunch just last week.
“It’s amazing how a ball accidentally hits me square in the face at lightning speed.”
Carson crossed his heart with his finger and held it out.
I rolled my eyes. “Regardless, because of you and your little accident, we’re headed to Mrs. Parks’ office, so thanks for that.”
“Actually, I’m pretty sure that was more on account of you trying to strangle me.”
My eyes flickered from his face to his neck, which was slightly mottled. Good. He deserved to have red splotches. My eye felt like it had been attacked by a swarm of bees. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t nervous about assessing the damage, but I wouldn’t give Carson the satisfaction of stopping in the bathroom to take a look.
“I wouldn’t have wrapped my hands around your neck had you not slammed a basketball in my eye socket.”
Carson grinned. “Hey, you know basketball isn’t my sport.”
I grunted. Everyone knew basketball wasn’t his sport. He was the king of Sweet Water’s swim team.
“Nice excuse,” I said, then began walking again as he hurried to catch up. “You better hope this doesn’t get us detention.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I notice his shrug. “It’s just detention.”
“Just detention? You don’t even care that we’re in trouble, do you?”
“Won’t be the first time. I’m sure it won’t be the last.”
“Well, isn’t that a winning attitude. But this is the first time for me, actually. And it will be the last.”
He scowled. “Oh, that’s right. I forgot who I was talking to. Can’t have anything marring little Miss Perfect’s reputation.”
We neared the principal’s office, so I paused. “Oh, I’m sorry. Some of us have to actually study, get good grades and have good behavior if we want to succeed. Not all of us can get a free ride just because we know how to swim. Some of us don’t have things overlooked simply because we’re athletic.”
It was an understatement. Carson was a pretty decent cross-country track runner, but he was unrivaled in the water. The boy was born with gills.
He scoffed. “I don’t just know how to swim.”
I smirked as my underhanded dismissal of him hit its mark.
I placed my hands on my hips and watched as he defended his title.
“I’ve won State two years in a row and set the Sweet Water record in all of my relays. Plus, I plan on breaking all of those again this year.”
“You’re so modest. I’m surprised you can even swim with that giant ego of yours weighing you down. How does it fit inside your swim cap?”
Carson snorted, and I turned back to the door. Before I could wrench it open, his hand came down over mine. It was big and warm and sent a flurry of nerve
s jumping in my stomach. I smothered the swell with my annoyance and glanced back at him.
His expression was serious, maybe more so than ever before. “It really was an accident.”
I hesitated, staring into eyes the same color as the pool water he practically lived in, and for a moment, I thought he might be genuine.
My gaze raked over his messy dark hair, the hint of facial hair over the sharp edge of his jaw, and his muscular arms, and I swallowed. Who was I kidding? This was Carson Brooks I was talking about.
Glancing away from him, I shoved the door open and went inside.
This ends the sample chapter by Tia Soulders from Falling for My Nemesis.
Chemistry of a Kiss Page 14