Familiar | Kajemac

Chapter 3

Mac's POV

KJ leans against the lamp post at our usual spot, the place we meet every morning before splitting up. The yellow light catches the sparkle of the few snowflakes that have dusted her pink jacket. Thankfully, it's just light, or I'd regret only wearing my windbreaker. When KJ sees me, she picks up her bike and mounts it.

"Have you seen Erin?" she asks.

"She's not here yet?"

"No. It's unusual."

I reach into my newspaper bag and pull out one of the walkie-talkies Tiffany gave us when she quit being a paper girl.

"Hey, New Girl, where are you at?"

After a few seconds, Erin's voice buzzes through the speaker. "Hey, sorry. I don't think I'm gonna go out today. Tiff said she heard there are some boys out harassing paper girls."

"So you're just not gonna do your job?"

"Sorry. You and Kaje can cover my route."

"More money for me."

I stuff the walkie back in my bag and start pedaling down the street on my own. But KJ rushes to catch up beside me.

"Maybe we should stay together," she shouts. "Just for tonight."

"Why? You scared?" I tease.

"No. I just think it would be safer."

"I can handle myself."

I've dealt with douchebag guys bothering me before, and I just want to get this done, but KJ clearly thinks I'm incapable. Of course she does. I'm pathetic to her. She has all this stuff: this loving family, a huge house, and everyone loves her. But I'm not weak, and I'm not going to let her slow me down.

I keep riding, and KJkeeps following me. At the end of a cul-de-sac, I take the shortcut between the houses. The bike path is lined by two stone walls and eventually leads out to the boulevard, but KJ stops me halfway through.

"Mac, wait! Please!"

Annoyed, I hit my brakes and turn around, laying my bike down beside me.

"What the fuck don't you understand?"

KJ drops her bike down and marches toward me, now clearly pissed as she folds her arms.

"What is your problem?"

"My problem is I don't need you being my mom telling me what to do!"

"I just want to be safe!"

"Then go home! I don't need your protection, and you don't need this money! So just go home to your fancy fucking house and your spoiled rich girl life!"

KJ's stare turns to coal as she stands in silence.

In a harsh tone, she finally speaks, "You're a real asshole, you know that?"

Tears threaten KJ's face as she looks at me with red eyes. Emotion steams out like I've never seen before from her—or from anyone—over me. It stuns me frozen. I went too far, and KJ's finally given up on me. But I guess it was only a matter of time before she saw what a shit friend I really am. But even though I should've seen it coming, it doesn't hurt any less when KJ turns her back and starts riding away on her bike.

Now she's too far to hear me utter, "KJ..."

Snowflakes drop like dandruff on the yellow grass framing the path, glazing the asphalt with a sheen of water. KJ doesn't look bothered by it, white powder collecting in her ponytail and damping her sweatshirt. Getting away from me matters more than some snow.

"Hey, paper girl," comes an eerily familiar voice. "You shouldn't be out delivering alone."

I turn around to see one of the regular douchebags approaching me up the bike path. He's a foot taller than me, but my stare burns sharper.

"What the fuck do you want?" I snarl.

"Just want to make sure you're being safe," his voice slithers. "You know there are a lot of bad people out there at this time in the morning."

He reaches his arm over my shoulders and pulls me close to him. My instant reaction is to duck under and shove him away. Once he regains his balance, his eyes narrow on me.

"So that's how it's gonna be?"

He grabs my wrist, but I twist his arm. This sets him off angrier, and he yanks me toward him more aggressively. That's when I raise my fist and sock him in the jaw, leaving a red mark on his chin. Shocked, he backs away to touch his face and assess the damage. No blood yet.

"You little bitch!"

His veiny hands grab at the collar of my jacket and yank me forward. Before I can throw another punch, a shout stops both of us in our tracks.

"Let go of her!"

It's KJ. She drops her bike on the asphalt and readies her field hockey stick in her hands as she walks toward us, her eyes on the shithead attacking me.

"Oh, look, you've got a friend," he snarls.

"I said," KJ repeats, "Let Go."

To my surprise, he actually obeys, but rather than releasing me carefully, he shoves me to the ground, and I crash down on my back.

"You want to take her place?" the guy asks KJ.

He launches a fist at her face, but she ducks and swipes her hockey stick into his side. Uhf! He quickly recovers and goes to hit her back, but before he can, she locks her hockey stick under his jaw and slams him back against the concrete wall. She's shorter than him, so she has to reach a fair bit, but somehow she is strong enough to keep him trapped.

"Badass..." I whisper.

KJ doesn't break her focus from the douchebag.

"Do not touch her again," she orders.

The guy tries to squirm, but KJ only presses down harder on his neck.

"Do not touch her! Understand?"

"Fine. Just fuck off, brat!"

KJ releases her grip, and he gasps. He doesn't make eye contact with us, his pride too butt-hurt. As he adjusts his coat and starts walking away, he mutters on last thing: "Fucking d*kes."

"What a dick," KJ grumbles then she looks back at me. "You okay?"

She comes over and holds out her hand, an offer to help me up. I ignore it, pushing myself up on my own. After all, I'm not helpless. Warmth drips down from my ear, and a quick touch reveals that I'm bleeding.

"Shit, Mac!" KJ freaks when she sees. She pulls a handkerchief out of her pocket and wipes my ear.

"You carry a handkerchief? What are you? 50?"

She looks confused by that. "I thought everyone did."

"Whatever."

KJ's eyes are locked onto the side of my head as she dabs at the spot, soaking up the blood still leaking from the splice. Her eyes always get intense when she fights. They get darker and her pupils expand, as if to increase her sightline and chances of winning. They're doing the same thing now—expanding—only softer. Her bangs are messy from the flight, and she has some dirt on her lip, but other than that, she's unscathed. Good thing, too. I'd feel real shitty if she got hurt trying to save me.

"Come on. My house is close. Let's clean you up," she says, pulling away.

She picks up her bike and waves for me to do the same. Without a second thought, I follow her.