His teammates circle around and start chanting for a fight and Jackson is more than happy to give it to them. He swings at me and I duck, narrowly avoiding a broken jaw. I dive into him and we go down hard, crashing into a row of metal benches on our way.
Punches get thrown and knuckles are bruised. My jaw is hit and I retaliate by splitting his brow. All too quickly, the coach is rushing in and pulling us apart. “You two dickheads get out of here and get your asses to Principal Watkins office now,” he roars, his face turning an angry shade of red.
He orders a few of his players to walk us to the office to ensure we get there and by walk, what he means is drag us while we struggle to quit knocking each other around. Jackson spits a mouthful of blood and I find myself grinning with pride. There’s nothing quite like seeing proof that you’ve done some damage.
We’re thrown into Principal Watkins’ office and the second we cross the threshold, we’re finally able to gain control of ourselves. Jackson drops down into the chair with an annoyed scowl while I pace back and forth through the room, waiting for Watkins to show up.
My head spins. How am I going to explain this to Kaylah without her hating me? I’m screwed. The last thing I want is for her to be angry with me while I was attempting to do the right thing. Don’t get me wrong, an angry Kaylah is the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. She’s feisty and stands tall. She absolutely dominates and can shut anyone down with a sexy as hell grin on her face.
Principal Watkins comes striding through his office door and the second he sees us waiting, a scowl crosses his features. He takes in the red mark on my face and the cut above Jackson’s brow and lets out a heavy sigh. “Why am I not surprised?” He crosses the room and drops down into his desk chair. “Dare I ask what the hell has been going on here?”
I drop down into my seat as Jackson decides to be a hero. “The only issue, Sir, is that you have dickheads attending your school.”
“Yeah, no shit,” I grunt, looking at Jackson. “I’m looking at one of them right now.”
Jackson’s hands ball into fists but before he has a chance to clap back, Principal Watkins speaks up. “Enough of that. What’s going on here? And this time, one of you better give me a straight answer.”
I roll my eyes and lean back into my seat. “I’m dating his sister and she wants us to get along, so I went into the locker room to clear the air, and this fucker lost his shit the second I mentioned her name.”
“Clear the air?” Jackson scoffs. “That’s bullshit. You went in there to cause shit just like you always do.”
“Really? Do you remember what I said when I first walked in? I wasn’t the one causing shit. I was trying to put it to bed. Your boys were the ones pushing for a fight, and you were the one who went off the fucking handle.”
Jackson’s eyes narrow in deep suspicion. “You want to put this shit to bed?”
I nod. “Whether you like it or not, Kaylah is my girl. I fucking love her and if making nice with you is what makes her happy, then you better fucking believe that I’m going to do it. Kaylah fucking loves you and if you were half the guy she keeps making you out to be, then you’d want that too.”
Jackson scowls and I don’t doubt he’s on the verge of telling me to shut the fuck up for suggesting that I know what’s best. “You love her?”
“I do, and there ain’t no way I’m about to let her go.”
“It sounds like you boys have a lot of issues to work through that all stem from a lack of respect,” Watkins says. “And whether you like it or not, you’re going to be involved in each other’s lives more than you had anticipated. It’s time to bury the hatchet and get over it. It would make life a hell of a lot easier for everyone, especially me.”
“Got it,” I say, getting up, more than ready to leave.
“Not so fast, Mr. Ryder,” Watkins scolds. “You two need to work out your differences and the only way to do that is by learning to communicate.”
“And how the hell do you expect us to do that?” Jackson questions.
Principal Watkins grins and my stomach sinks. “I’ve been waiting for this,” he says, making me realize that whatever ‘this’ is, I’m not going to like it.
He ducks down beside his desk and I hear a drawer being opened. “You two,” he says, straightening himself back up and placing one of those baby dolls that are used in Early Childhood classes down in the center of his desk, “are going to co-parent. For the last two weeks of school, you are going to love this baby, you are going to care for it, feed it, and change its diaper. I will be able to see the results of this experiment, and if you fail, you will continue for a further two weeks. This pattern will continue until you can learn to be in the same room as each other and show respect, kindness, and friendship.”