Crash (Crash 1)

I appeared to be the only student paying attention, so that’s why, when someone suddenly appeared behind the principal and snatched the microphone out of his hand, I had time to mutter a select curse word under my breath before everyone else realized what was going on.

“Shut up, you sons of bitches!” Jude’s voice vibrated the room and everyone did just as requested.

The principal attempted to retrieve the microphone, but Jude lifted it over his head, which towered a good three feet above the poor, red-faced, principal. Jude shook his head once and peaked a brow. Whatever silent words the principal picked up from that look was enough for him to back away.

Lowering the microphone, Jude looked over at me, again knowing exactly where I was in this crowd of a couple thousand. His gaze lingered on me for another second before he turned his attention elsewhere.

“I put up with you bunch of bastards because I don’t give a damn what you all think of me,” he began, walking around the podium. “But I won’t for one second put up with you trying to ruin the reputation of an innocent girl.”

I wanted to look around the room, to experience the wide-eyed faces and jaws-to-the-bleachers mouths, but I couldn’t take my eyes off Jude. He was defending my honor and, whether he was going about the right or wrong way of doing so, it was the damn sexiest, most romantic thing I’d ever had happen to me.

“Lucy Larson is a friend. A friend whose back I have, and I think everyone knows if she were some random girl I screwed, I wouldn’t be up here now.” He paused, waiting or threatening anyone to stand up and say otherwise.

I’ll be honest, gauging the look on Jude’s face, I feared whoever might have stood up to object would be leaving today’s assembly in a body bag.

“If I so much as hear a quiet thought about her being a slut,” Jude’s fist clenched, as he seemed to make eye contact with every Southpointe High student, “you better hope you don’t like your legs because I’m going to break both of them.”

Now, to match everyone else’s, my mouth fell open.

“If anyone needs any further clarification on the matter, you can take it up with me in the parking lot.” He let that not so subtle warning hang in the air another minute before holding the microphone out for the principal.

The principal motioned to another administrator to take over before looking expectantly at Jude. Chuckling, Jude followed the principal off the auditorium stairs.

“It wouldn’t be a first day of school if I didn’t see you in my office before the end of fifth period, Mr. Ryder,” the principal sighed.

“Yeah, but this was a worthy cause, Principal Rudolph,” Jude answered, winking over at me before exiting the still silent gym.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Mom’s car was here. That was the first thing I noticed as I pulled up to the cabin after school. She was never home this early; it was like some mortal sin for her to leave the office before five.

So, of course, she’d choose the worst day I’d had in years to break this rule. I would have put the Mazda in reverse if she hadn’t been watching me from the kitchen window. She was waiting for me.

Just when you think there’s nowhere to go but up.

Unbuckling, I grabbed my backpack and set out to meet the inevitable. Opening the screen door, I inhaled and stepped inside.

Mom was sitting at the table, two glasses of tea steaming in front of her. The biggest smile my mom was capable of forming slid into position. “How was your first day?”

Epically awful. Worst first day of school in the history of the world. Humiliating. “Pretty good,” I answered, reaching for the cup of tea she extended.

“Anything special happen?” she asked, sounding interested.

I was nominated the school slut by the end of first period. “Not really,” I said with a shrug.

“Did you make any friends?” She took a sip of tea, still looking at me with that ghost of a smile.

I made a lot of enemies. “A few.” Lying shouldn’t come this easy.

“Did you see any familiar faces?”

My parents were pretty much the anti-fan of Jude. If they knew, they’d seriously consider pulling me out of Southpointe and bussing me to another school district or selling their internal organs on the black market to send me back to private school just to ensure I didn’t have to pass him in a hallway. While every other part of Southpointe blew, one very big part didn’t. Sure, I didn’t have, nor would I likely have any friends there, the curriculum was coursework I’d started in elementary school, and it was so old every hall, room, and wall smelt like an old gym bag.

But Jude was there. And somehow, nothing else mattered but that.

“Nope.” My voice broke, instantly alerting my mom. Okay, so lying wasn’t this easy. “I mean, it’s a big school. I’m sure they’ll be a few people I recognize eventually.”

“Hmm,” she murmured into her tea. She was up to something. I didn’t know what, but when any parent was “up to something,” it was never something good. “I could have sworn I saw a Southpointe bus stop at Last Chance Boys’ Home on my way to work.”

I wasn’t going to let her ruin my only bit of sunshine in that hell. “Is this the part where you’re waiting for me to reassure you that I really don’t mind—in fact it’s probably for the best—that I was pulled out of a private school my senior year because we’re broke, and I was tossed into some mega school that has metal detectors at every entrance?” I said, slamming my tea on the table. “Because maybe we can skip the BS and, for once, be honest with each other.”

eared to be the only student paying attention, so that’s why, when someone suddenly appeared behind the principal and snatched the microphone out of his hand, I had time to mutter a select curse word under my breath before everyone else realized what was going on.

“Shut up, you sons of bitches!” Jude’s voice vibrated the room and everyone did just as requested.

The principal attempted to retrieve the microphone, but Jude lifted it over his head, which towered a good three feet above the poor, red-faced, principal. Jude shook his head once and peaked a brow. Whatever silent words the principal picked up from that look was enough for him to back away.

Lowering the microphone, Jude looked over at me, again knowing exactly where I was in this crowd of a couple thousand. His gaze lingered on me for another second before he turned his attention elsewhere.

“I put up with you bunch of bastards because I don’t give a damn what you all think of me,” he began, walking around the podium. “But I won’t for one second put up with you trying to ruin the reputation of an innocent girl.”

I wanted to look around the room, to experience the wide-eyed faces and jaws-to-the-bleachers mouths, but I couldn’t take my eyes off Jude. He was defending my honor and, whether he was going about the right or wrong way of doing so, it was the damn sexiest, most romantic thing I’d ever had happen to me.

“Lucy Larson is a friend. A friend whose back I have, and I think everyone knows if she were some random girl I screwed, I wouldn’t be up here now.” He paused, waiting or threatening anyone to stand up and say otherwise.

I’ll be honest, gauging the look on Jude’s face, I feared whoever might have stood up to object would be leaving today’s assembly in a body bag.

“If I so much as hear a quiet thought about her being a slut,” Jude’s fist clenched, as he seemed to make eye contact with every Southpointe High student, “you better hope you don’t like your legs because I’m going to break both of them.”

Now, to match everyone else’s, my mouth fell open.

“If anyone needs any further clarification on the matter, you can take it up with me in the parking lot.” He let that not so subtle warning hang in the air another minute before holding the microphone out for the principal.

The principal motioned to another administrator to take over before looking expectantly at Jude. Chuckling, Jude followed the principal off the auditorium stairs.

“It wouldn’t be a first day of school if I didn’t see you in my office before the end of fifth period, Mr. Ryder,” the principal sighed.

“Yeah, but this was a worthy cause, Principal Rudolph,” Jude answered, winking over at me before exiting the still silent gym.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Mom’s car was here. That was the first thing I noticed as I pulled up to the cabin after school. She was never home this early; it was like some mortal sin for her to leave the office before five.

So, of course, she’d choose the worst day I’d had in years to break this rule. I would have put the Mazda in reverse if she hadn’t been watching me from the kitchen window. She was waiting for me.

Just when you think there’s nowhere to go but up.

Unbuckling, I grabbed my backpack and set out to meet the inevitable. Opening the screen door, I inhaled and stepped inside.

Mom was sitting at the table, two glasses of tea steaming in front of her. The biggest smile my mom was capable of forming slid into position. “How was your first day?”

Epically awful. Worst first day of school in the history of the world. Humiliating. “Pretty good,” I answered, reaching for the cup of tea she extended.

“Anything special happen?” she asked, sounding interested.

I was nominated the school slut by the end of first period. “Not really,” I said with a shrug.

“Did you make any friends?” She took a sip of tea, still looking at me with that ghost of a smile.

I made a lot of enemies. “A few.” Lying shouldn’t come this easy.

“Did you see any familiar faces?”

My parents were pretty much the anti-fan of Jude. If they knew, they’d seriously consider pulling me out of Southpointe and bussing me to another school district or selling their internal organs on the black market to send me back to private school just to ensure I didn’t have to pass him in a hallway. While every other part of Southpointe blew, one very big part didn’t. Sure, I didn’t have, nor would I likely have any friends there, the curriculum was coursework I’d started in elementary school, and it was so old every hall, room, and wall smelt like an old gym bag.

But Jude was there. And somehow, nothing else mattered but that.

“Nope.” My voice broke, instantly alerting my mom. Okay, so lying wasn’t this easy. “I mean, it’s a big school. I’m sure they’ll be a few people I recognize eventually.”

“Hmm,” she murmured into her tea. She was up to something. I didn’t know what, but when any parent was “up to something,” it was never something good. “I could have sworn I saw a Southpointe bus stop at Last Chance Boys’ Home on my way to work.”

I wasn’t going to let her ruin my only bit of sunshine in that hell. “Is this the part where you’re waiting for me to reassure you that I really don’t mind—in fact it’s probably for the best—that I was pulled out of a private school my senior year because we’re broke, and I was tossed into some mega school that has metal detectors at every entrance?” I said, slamming my tea on the table. “Because maybe we can skip the BS and, for once, be honest with each other.”