Tackled by the King: A Bad Boy Sports Romance (32 page)

“Yo Big Rob, turn that beat up.”

Big Rob reached over from the passenger's seat and pumped up the volume full-blast. The brim of his white bucket hat bobbed with his head to the killer bass. The surround-sound system I had installed yesterday was definitely worth it. I winded down the windows, sharing the Gorillaz' sick tune with the cars lined up around me at the stoplight.

“My jam,” said Big Rob as he leaned back in his seat. “I've been playing this song nonstop on my iPod since it came out.”

“Same, dude. Same.”

Big Rob's real name was Robert Jones, but I've only ever heard the teachers at school address him by his full name. Even his parents called him “Big Rob.” In fact, they were the ones who started calling him that in the first place. According to Mrs. Jones, he was a whopping 11 lbs when he was born. His birth even made it to the local papers in South Warren, Michigan.

We met in the 6
^th
grade. With our mutual love of
Pokemon
and
Age of Empires
, we hit it off right away. He used to be this chubby, awkward kid, which made him a prime target for bullies and snotty girls. But when middle school ended, everything changed for the dude. Over the summer, he committed to this intense workout routine and started hitting the gym nonstop, working out 4 to 5 hours at a time.

By the time we got into
Stonewall
Academy
, he was unrecognizable. All his baby fat was gone – the dude busted out a 6-pack you could cut a New York Strip off of. The guys at school never gave him shit again, and even the babes from junior year were making googly eyes at him. So, it was safe to say life had been pretty sweet for him the last three years. He made it to the varsity football team in sophomore year. Now, just a few months away from graduation, he was the captain of the football team, and probably the best quarterback
Stonewall's
seen in years. Let's put it this way – the girls in school now call him “Big Rob” for different reasons.

“Oh. My. God. This has got to be the longest stoplight in all of Manhattan. How is that light still red?!”

I felt a sharp jab on the back of my seat. I jerked my head to the backseat with a raised eyebrow. Allison Prescott withdrew her leg, groaning. She was slumped halfway off her seat, with her seatbelt the only thing keeping her off the carpet.

“Pull yourself together, Kicky.” I blinked at her matching tracksuit. “If you want, I can let you off here, and you can jog the rest of the way to school. I mean, you're already dressed for the occasion.”

“Excuse you – I'll have you know, I saw Paris Hilton wearing the exact same ensemble on this month's issue of
People
magazine,” Allison defended herself. She smoothed her ridiculous jacket, which bared half her stomach and her gold belly ring. “You guys just
had
to stop at
Lenny's Drive-Thru
, didn't you?”

“We're growing boys. We need our meat,” Big Rob chimed in between mouthfuls. He unwrapped his third pork barbecue burger and went to town on it. “And quit hating. You got yourself a cheeseburger and a strawberry shake.”

“Seriously, guys. I can't be late this week – not when we're so close to our last midterms.”

“Relax,” I grinned, giving her a thumbs-up in the rearview mirror. “We'll get there before the bell rings. I know a shortcut.”

“Nope – absolutely not! The last time we went on one of your 'shortcuts', we ended up in the parking lot of some shady strip club. You guys were in there for nearly an hour before you even bothered to show up to class. Thank God I was able to get a ride with Brady.”

“Oh, yeah.” My smile stretched even wider as I exchanged looks with Big Rob. “Good times, good times. I don't think the ladies were even onstage anymore. Pretty sure they were packing up and ready to leave.”

“We raided that buffet though. Their fried shrimp tempura was the bomb.”

“Of course,” said Allison sarcastically, sitting up straight in her seat. She crossed her arms and rolled her eyes, but there was a hint of a smile on her face. “Why am I not surprised?”

Big Rob and I were tight, and we go back, but Allison and I go
way
back. We've known each other since we were 3, when Ma met Allison's mom at
Central Park
and arranged a play date. We grew up together, so we were practically family. I don't think I could think of a time when she wasn't around. We did everything together – played
Little League
, raced our bikes down hills, and I may or may not have allowed her to put her mom's makeup on me on more than one occasion. We met Big Rob later on, and the three of us have been joined at the hip since.

The only thing that ever annoyed me about my friendship with Allison was that she was an unintentional cockblock. We were constantly mistaken for a couple, which lagged a few of my progresses with girls. Don't get me wrong, Allison was pretty, I guess. She had long, bright red hair, and her makeup was always perfect. She was also a straight-A student, and on the volleyball squad, so she was in good shape. Every guy at school wanted a piece of her. And because most of the dudes at
Stonewall
were assholes, naturally, Big Rob and I were protective of her. Which of course, made it seem like I wanted her to myself. But in reality, just the thought of kissing her or even holding her hand was enough to bring the steak burger I just had back up my throat.

“Finally!” Allison threw up her hands. She leaned over and punched me on the arm. “Go, go, go!”

I revved the twin-turbo engines of my
Saleen S7
and peeled down the street. Relieved, a chipper Allison joined Big Rob as he rapped along to De La Soul's verse. I cruised down Black Shade Boulevard and made a left turn into the back lot of a grocery store.

As promised, I pulled up to the black wrought iron gates of
Stonewall
Academy
with 12 minutes to spare. Big Rob and I draped our arms out our windows, slapping the outstretched hands of the guys from the football team. As I started driving to my reserved spot, Big Rob jabbed his thumb out his window.

“What the hell's going on over there?”

I parked my car and yanked my keys out the ignition. A mob of kids crowded around the front steps of the school entrance. The crowd started growing as more confused kids got caught up behind the human traffic jam. The three of us got out of my car, crossing the grass and fountain to check out the scene.

“N–not. N-not f-funny. Give it b–back, ass–asshole.”

“What you gonna do about it, Special Needs?”

One kid had another kid backed up against the wall, holding a pair of crutches sideways against the defenseless kid's neck. I didn't recognize the thug, but knew that he was a fellow senior. He was a skinny dude with a shaved head, wearing a baggy muscle shirt that showed off his scrawny, weak-ass arms. There was a wet stain running down the thug's shirt. A crushed can of
AriZona
iced tea lay a few feet away from them. The other kid was Derek Suresh, a sophomore with cerebral palsy. I could see Derek's twitching worsening under pressure.

“Oh my gosh.” Allison clapped a hand over her mouth, shaking her head.

“Ay. Let go of him, man,” Big Rob called out angrily.

Derek slanted his head to the side, turning away from the thug's face. He threw out his arm and swatted for his crutches. Derek missed, his hand brushing against the thug's thigh. The thug jumped back, snarling loudly as he spat on the kid's face.

“Don't touch me, fag.”

“Really?” I muttered under my breath in disbelief as I looked around me.

Everyone was just watching, lingering on the sidelines as they whispered and pointed. I reached over and nudged my way between the two kids in front of me, starting towards the crowd. But before I was even halfway through the crowd, a girl pushed her way through first, beating me to the punch.

“Hey, douchebag! Back the fuck off.”

I paused in my tracks, hanging back. The corners of my lips curved downward as I watched her, nodding. This chick clearly had it covered. She pulled the strap of her shoulder bag over her head, dropping it along with the books and the purple notebook in her arms. The thug looked over his shoulder, his jaw slacking as the girl snatched the crutches out of his grasp.

“What the hell is wrong with you?”

The girl was standing with her back to the crowd, but her fury was transparent. She handed the crutches back to Derek, helping him into the forearm cuffs. She turned back to the thug, her shoulders rising. Her curly, deep brown hair bounced as she schooled him.

Big Rob and Allison squeezed through the crowd, stopping on either side of me.

“Who's the badass chick?” I whispered to Allison.

“Really, Miles?” said Allison incredulously, rolling her eyes. “What, just 'cause she doesn't walk around school with her titties hanging out all over the place, you don't know her? She's been with us since freshman year. That's Daisy Clarke.”

“Nope,” I shrugged, hearing crickets in my head. “No bells ringing here.”

“She's in the Honors Society, and I think she writes for the school paper. Don't think I've ever seen her without her purple notebook – she's always writing in that thing. We say hi to each other in the hallways, but I don't really know her. Seems like a sweet girl, though.”

“Whoa,” said Big Rob. He jutted his chin forward. “And who's that creepy chick?”

A girl with black make-up all over her pierced face slunk out from the side, stepping next to Daisy. She wore a thick black turtleneck and an orange beanie that was drooping back from all the “Save the Whales” badges pinned onto it. I thought I was going to go blind from all the zippers and unnecessary chains on her checkered pants.

“That's Honey Zhang.” Allison leaned close to us, dropping the tone of her voice. “She follows Daisy around everywhere – guessing they're best friends. She's a little, um –”

“Creepy? Bizarre? Freaky?” Big Rob pitched in helpfully.

“None of the above,” Allison snapped, squinting her eyes at him. “I was going to say – she's a little...unique.”

“So, weird. What I said.”

“Ugh, you a fool,” Allison grumbled, tutting.

As Big Rob and Allison argued next to me, I turned back to Daisy and the thug.

“Oh, big tough guy,” Daisy taunted him, wiggling her fingers in front of her. “Harassing a kid with crutches. Does that make you feel like a big, strong man?”

Reddening, the thug glanced at Derek, who was wiping the spit off his face.

“He got what was coming to him,” the thug muttered. He puffed out his chest. “The fag knocked into me, made me spill my drink –”

“It – it was an acc-accident.”

“You use that word one more time –” started Daisy. The rest of her words were drowned out by the school bell shrilling in the hallways.

Mr. Pierce, the principal, came waddling down the hallway. His greasy gut poked out of his brown suit, and the shiny, egg-shaped dome of his head gleamed under the light. A few other teachers followed in tow.

“What in the world is going on out here?” Mr. Pierce demanded in his nasally voice. “Get to your classes now, or you'll all be getting detention. GIT!”

The crowd scattered at once, filing into the school doors.

“I'll catch up with you guys later.”

“Okay,” said Allison. She curled her lip disapprovingly as she glanced at Big Rob, who was chatting up a blonde cheerleader. “Just a reminder – this is your fourth tardy with Ms. Pine this week. I'm studying all weekend – I've got no time to call in pretending to be your mothers. And I'm not forging any more doctor's signatures – I swear I'm gonna get hauled away for fraud one of these days. Later, losers.”

“Yeah, yeah, you love us.” I waved her off. “Bye.”

I watched as Derek wrapped an arm around Daisy in a quick hug before heading off to class. As I approached them, Honey turned towards me. Our eyes met briefly. Her eyes rounded as she grabbed Daisy's shoulder, pulling her in to whisper in her ear.

I stooped down to pick up Daisy's purple notebook, but as I looked up to hand it to her, I froze. It probably had something to do with the way the sun was bouncing off the back of her head, but Daisy's face was fucking angelic. She wore a pair of square red frames, which matched her thick, pouting lips. Apart from her lips, she wasn't wearing half as much make-up as most of the girls at school. Not that she needed any – her warm hazel eyes and the light freckles on her nose and cheeks were real cute.

“Can I help you, Miles?”

I snapped out of my daze at the coldness in Daisy's voice. She crossed her arms over her chest, sticking out one hand lazily. Honey mimicked Daisy's stance, crossing her arms.

“Don't worry about it, Honey. I got this. You go ahead to class.”

“You sure?” said Honey, frowning. Her voice was high-pitched and squeaky, which didn't match her look at all.