Student Bodyguard for Hire

by Callie James

  She bit her lip, drawing my attention to that tiny little mole above her chin. “I wrote my cell down, too. Just text if you can’t make it. Or call. Whatever.” She shifted nervously and turned, grabbed her bag and hurried away. Her brother sat shotgun in her Lexus, fuming in the most epic pout I’d ever seen. Her friends in the backseat, Adam Cooper and Jon Watson, stared at me with open mouths, not bothering to hide their shock.

  My gaze pivoted back to her. I couldn’t help myself. Even knowing that people gawked, I watched her walk away, checking out the little sway of her hips and perky step, unable to stop myself from wanting her like every other jerk in this school.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Peyton

  “What are you doing?” Ryan asked, his reflection popping up in the mirror behind me. “It’s almost nine-thirty and you’re putting on makeup.”

  “Refreshing my makeup,” I corrected. He had a point. I’d been preening to watch a movie. But hey, it wasn’t a crime to want to look nice. At least my co-workers had understood. They’d even helped me leave an hour early so I could shower and change into something prettier than my black work shirt with Emily’s Cake Place printed on the back. “I had cake flour in my hair.”

  “That explains the shower. But makeup?”

  “Maybe I don’t want Sam to see the real me.” I stepped to the side, blocking his reflection and those piercing blue eyes that often saw way too much.

  “Why?” he said, moving to glare at me again. “You’ve gone out with how many guys before? And not once did I see you give two figs about your appearance. Not like this.”

  “I don’t want to argue with you, Ryan.”

  “We’re not arguing.”

  “We will be if you don’t quit with the overprotective thing.”

  “This guy is seriously scary, sis.”

  I rubbed powder on my nose and brushed away the remnants. “How can you say that after what he did for you today?”

  “Because you paid him. He didn’t do it out of the goodness of his heart.”

  “That’s not true.” I stared at his reflection. “Technically, I didn’t pay him anything. His sister took the money. Besides, he said no to my proposal, numerous times. And then he told me to get off his property. You can ask Adam because he heard him. Maybe he defended you today because he hates Delaney, too. Or maybe he dislikes bullies. You saw for yourself. He didn’t want the money.”

  “I still can’t believe you went to his house and asked him to play my bodyguard. I’m humiliated until the end of time.”

  Ryan could be so dramatic. “I’m sorry you’re mad, but don’t be. No one else knows.”

  “Are you kidding? I told two friends in seventh period when they asked about the bloody towel I was holding to my face. Then everyone saw you trying to pay him in the parking lot.”

  “Not everyone saw.”

  “And when that didn’t work, you outright flirted with him. People will figure it out.”

  “I was being nice.”

  “You gave him your address and phone number, for petesake. I feel like my sister just sold herself into sexual slavery on my behalf. I’ll bet someone had a phone out, too. Probably uploading a picture as we speak. They’ll entitle it, Wimp is a Pimp or some shit like that.”

  I laughed.

  “You need to get serious.” He took a seat on the bathtub corner and shook his head. “You could be linked with Sam Guerra forever on the internet. I’ll never live it down.”

  “Live what down?”

  “The way he stared after you.”

  “He did?”

  “Yeah. As if he planned to tap that real soon.”

  “Really?” I couldn’t hold back my excitement that this homework assignment might eventually turn into something more. “Do you think he’s attracted to me?”

  His rounding eyes and horrified expression made me lose the smile. “You’re missing the bigger picture here, Peyton.”

  I looked back to the mirror to see a mottled blush creep into my cheeks. Definitely time to change the subject. “You’re in for a long wait if you want me to apologize. Delaney backing off you is a good thing. Every time I look at the bruising on your face, I feel vindicated. And despite what you or your bodyguard say, I think Samuel did it because it was the right thing to do.”

  “Samuel?” he asked. “Since when do you call him Samuel?”

  I silently debated a cinnamon lipstick. “His sister called him Samuel the other day. I thought he might prefer it.”

  “Clearly you have no idea what you’re getting yourself into.” He stood and leaned against the counter, watching me. “Have you ever seen the guy, sis? I mean, under all that flannel?”

  Turning pinker, I slapped my mascara comb back into the tube. “No, and please don’t tell me you were checking him out.”

  “He’s not my type and you know it.”

  “Or more like he’s not Eric Morgan. Oooh, now I see.”

  “I’m not letting you flip this conversation to me.” He rolled his eyes, but the blush in his cheeks gave him away. “Seriously, I’ve been wondering why the coach lets Guerra leave earlier than the rest of us to go to the showers. Seeing him shirtless today, I have a good idea why.”

  “Let me guess. The numerous curse words tattooed across his chest?”

  “No, I think it’s because of the scars. Besides, his tats are on his arms.”

  I stopped pulling stray hairs out of my hairbrush. “What scars?”

  “On his chest and abdomen.”

  I had a vivid imagination, and my stomach twisted as several horrible scenarios came to mind. “Scars. Like he was burned in a fire?”

  He shook his head. “I was too busy bleeding everywhere and more amazed at the scar severity than the detail. Definitely not burns. More like knife or sword wounds.”

  “What?”

  “Or something equally horrible,” he mumbled, shuddering.

  I bugged my eyes at him, imagining the size of a sword blade. Surely, he was exaggerating.

  “One look at that shit,” he said, “and Delaney and his cronies started backing up. Guerra barely had to threaten them.”

  “So you’re saying Carter and his friends did this to you?” I recalled what Sam told me about four to one odds. “He took on all four at once?”

  “Like it was nothing. The guy didn’t blink the entire time. He seriously scares me.”

  “Why were you scared? He was on your side.”

  Ryan nodded. “That should tell you how scary he can be. It also didn’t hurt that he looks leaner and meaner than anyone our age should. Probably takes steroids.”

  “What?”

  “It’s not natural,” he said. “His muscles have muscles. He’s seriously cut.”

  Like I needed more encouragement to think of Sam Guerra without his shirt. “Obviously, those jerks prefer picking on smaller students.”

  “You’re totally interested in him, aren’t you?”

  I tried to look bored and rolled my eyes. “No.”

  “He’s dangerous, Peyton,” he said, seeing right through me as usual. “He’s dark and moody and not in an interesting way. He talks to no one and he’s always pissed. Doesn’t that worry you? He could be a serial killer.”

  “Are you and Adam comparing notes now?” I ran the brush through my hair. “Besides, he talks to me. Sort of.”

  “Of course he talks to you. He wants to get under your skirt. Why does any guy talk to you?”

  “Thanks.”

  “You know what I mean. Even dudes who normally wouldn’t say two words to me stop me in the john at least once a week to ask for your number.”

  “That’s just gross.” I sprayed two pumps of dehumidifying hairspray over my head. Finished. “And don’t go trying to convince me again that men and women can’t be friends. Guys don’t talk to girls only for sex. Not always. Besides, Sam and I don’t even know each other.”

  “Like that’s ever stopped a guy.”

  “Adam and J
on are my friends and they don’t want that from me.”

  “Oh, they’ve thought about you that way, believe me. And you know that Adam has loved you since eighth grade.”

  “Don’t bring Adam’s feelings into this. He knows how it is between us.” I turned to him. “Can I please enjoy this a little without you spitting in my Cheerios?”

  “Enjoy what? I thought you weren’t interested.”

  I sighed. “It’s homework.”

  “Fine.” He raked a hand through his hair. “Just make sure that’s all it is. I couldn’t take everyone saying you screwed him, too.”

  Tears burned my eyes to hear my brother talk about me like that, even though I was well aware of what people said about me. “You realize the people who create those rumors are the same people who say you’re gay. Do you think anyone listens to them?”

  “Everyone listens to them, Peyton. Especially the ones who say they don’t. And I am gay, so I think your argument just collapsed on itself.”

  “Well, I refuse to lose any more sleep over what people say about me. The people I care about know the truth.”

  “It’s me, sis, so you can quit with the bullshit. I know you care what people think.” He placed a hand over his midsection. “God, I think I’m getting an ulcer.”

  “Really?”

  His frown deepened. “You would too, if you were me. I’ve noticed you noticing him ever since he came back. I realize the guy’s body looks as if he’s been doing the P90X fitness routine since second grade but—”

  “I wouldn’t know.”

  “Peyton, he has fresh bruises all the time. People say he’s in an underground fight club and you hate violence.” He ran a hand through his hair, making it spiky. “I guess I’d feel better if you’d stop acting so giddy. Like this is a date. How can you have this attraction to him knowing what you know?”

  My stomach fluttered to hear him say it aloud. I walked into my room so he wouldn’t see my growing smile and tossed myself onto the blue and cream bedspread to stare at the ceiling. Just thinking about Sam made me feel warm. Excited. Even a little terrified.

  And … giddy.

  Ryan entered my room and plopped down next to me. “Sorry,” he said. “You’ve just never acted like this before. I’m freaked he’s going to ask you out and you’re going to say yes.”

  I wobbled my feet at the end of the mattress and grinned. “He won’t.”

  “What if he does?”

  “He won’t. He has too many preconceived notions about me. Rich little white girl and all that.”

  “Rich?”

  I rolled my eyes. “It was news to me, too. What does chica guapa mean, anyway?”

  “No clue.”

  “Well, he called me that. Right after he directed me to the mall.”

  “The mall? You hate shopping.”

  “I know.”

  “What a dick,” he muttered.

  “He also accused me of wanting to hire him to mow our lawn.”

  “Ah. A dick and a racist. Or a reverse racist. What exactly do you call a reverse racist anyway? Just a racist?”

  “My point is he’s not going to ask me out. And I wouldn’t get hung up on him if he did.”

  “I think you already are.”

  “I’m doing this to pay him back. You know I don’t like feeling indebted.”

  “Only because a would-be rapist once said you owed him,” he said sternly. “Get over it, Peyton. You don’t owe Sam Guerra anything.”

  “I want to do this. The guy came back to high school a fifth year. What kind of person does that?”

  “The kind who’s probably never been introduced to a condom. There’s no telling where he’s been, Peyton.”

  “Would you quit acting like Sam’s coming over for sex?” My cheeks heated. “For petesake, I don’t even know him and you’re talking about condoms. You’re embarrassing me.”

  “Why? It’s only me.”

  “Because I don’t want to talk about condoms. You’re grossing me out. Besides, you don’t get to be disapproving of a boy who hasn’t even asked me out.”

  “A man,” he corrected. “I’m disapproving of a man who hasn’t asked you out. He’s got to be nineteen by now.”

  “Oooh, a whole year older than me. What a cradle robber. Better call the police,” I teased, adding a playful jab to his arm.

  “There are laws, you know.”

  “I’m eighteen, Ryan.”

  “But you’re still a high school student.”

  “So is he!” I reasoned. “Now stop being ridiculous.”

  “Fine.” He sighed and stared at the ceiling.

  I giggled at his disgruntled tone.

  “Can I ask you something?” He turned to me. “In the locker room, he said building up my body wouldn’t help me if I didn’t know how to fight. He said I wasn’t the type.”

  “The type to fight? Sam said that?”

  “Yeah. Do you think he’s right?”

  One glance at Ryan’s annoyed expression and I knew Sam Guerra had wounded my little bro’s pride with the comment. “Yes.”

  “Talk about your bullshit stereotyping.”

  I looked to the ceiling, too aware I still hadn’t heard from Sam. “It’s not stereotyping. Gay has nothing to do with it. It’s …not you. You may be negative and blunt all the time, but you have this caregiver air. You have a gentle nature. Anyone with eyes can see that. I can’t envision you in a fistfight, even to protect me. There’s a reason why Adam and Jon didn’t ask for your help when they beat up Jason three years ago. I think Sam was saying you’re better than that.”

  “Hm.” He didn’t sound convinced. “So if Sam seeks out violence, what does that say about him?”

  “Nothing.”

  “How do you figure?”

  “Because he doesn’t bully others, and right now, that’s all I care about. If he wants to fight in a fight club, I guess that’s his business.”

  “Rumor has it he’s in a gang.”

  I ignored my knotting stomach. “At least pick one rumor and stick with it, Ryan. Besides, why is it I’ve never seen him fight? Maybe most of that’s rumor, too.”

  “Ask around. Many have seen him fight.”

  “In his past maybe.”

  “You need something recent?”

  “What if he’s using his reputation to keep people out?”

  He slid a hand under his head. “Oh God, here we go. Peyton’s off to go save someone again. Did Mom and Dad not adopt enough stray kittens and puppies when we were little?”

  “I’m telling you, there’s more to him than that badass, stone-faced thing he likes to give off.”

  “Like what?”

  “I don’t know. There’s just something about him. He gives off a…a…”

  “Terrible odor?”

  “No.” I smacked his arm. “Dork.”

  “Then what?”

  “Energy.” That was it exactly. “There’s a constant energy about him, simmering below the surface. It’s exciting, don’t you think?”

  “Yeah, exciting like a volcano,” he said. “One minute, nice little mountain top. The next? Poof. Destruction and carnage. Time to relocate.”

  “I don’t think carnage is the right word here.”

  “So, you feel that?” he asked, looking at me seriously.

  I should have stopped talking ten minutes ago. I hadn’t convinced him of anything. “He’s different than other guys at school. He makes me nervous but in a nice way. Do I sound crazy?”

  “Damn, your hormones are in overdrive with this guy,” he said, frowning as he sat upright on the bed. “If you promise me you won’t sleep with him, I’ll believe you.”

  I sat up and pushed him so hard he nearly fell off the bed. “Would you quit talking about sex? I’m waiting until I’m in love and you know it. I want it to be important. Not some backseat thing.”

  “Most guys would tell you they had very important sex in a backseat.”

  We both pa
used to hear Mom yell from downstairs, asking Ryan to take out the garbage and me to unload the dishwasher.

  I stood and walked out with him. “You’re worried without reason. He didn’t even show. I think he blew me off.”

  “Oh, he’ll show,” he said. “I told you, the guy is totally going to make a move on you. Mark my words. He’d be an idiot to blow this invite.”

  I went to bed an hour later, wondering if Sam Guerra was an idiot. Not only did he blow the invite, he didn’t text or call to say he wouldn’t make it. Not a frowny face or anything. No one had ever stood me up, and I had to admit, it stung.

  Maybe Ryan was right. Maybe hormones had influenced my thinking. Maybe I’d been a little too excited to study with a boy I didn’t know.

  Knowing this didn’t stop me from stewing all night, and by morning, the hurt had turned into anger. Then when he didn’t show up for school, anger turned to worry. Sam would have to be completely insane to invite Ms. Campbell’s wrath after everything she’d said yesterday.

  After lunch, I spotted Savanna at her locker and called her name. She looked through me and slammed her locker closed, walking the opposite way. I caught up to her fast stride and walked beside her. “Hey, Savanna.” I noticed a shiny emerald on her nose. Certain people could pull off having multiple piercings without looking like a street person. Savanna was one of them. “Nice nose stud…piercing.” I didn’t know the technical name. “It’s pretty. Is it new?”

  Her gaze flicked over me briefly. “Yeah.”

  Small talk. I sucked at it. “I’m curious … is Sam okay?”

  She boosted her already quick pace. “Yeah.”

  To know Sam hadn’t been in a horrific car accident should have relaxed me. “I only ask because he was supposed to come to my house Tuesday night to study, but he never made it.” I had a knack for over-explaining when nervous, and her quiet demeanor unnerved me to no end. “He didn’t text or phone to let me know, and when he didn’t show today, I got worried.”

  She stopped and turned to me, whipping that shock of black hair from her eyes. “He doesn’t have a cell phone and he’s fine. Are we done here? Can I go to class now?”

  Wow. Abrupt. Got it. “Sure. We’re done.”

  She continued walking to class while I pondered life without a cell phone. They couldn’t be that poor. Who didn’t own a cell phone? I ran to my own locker and next class. Maybe Ryan, Adam, and Jon were right. I must have been out of my mind trying to get to know Sam. Given my reaction to him whenever he walked into a room, I knew dating him would only make me a hot mess like the rest of my friends in serious relationships. I didn’t need that. I’d made important plans for my future and I shouldn’t let anything get in the way of those plans.