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chapter eighteen
good girls go bad
"Come on, Nakaoka! You can do better than that!"
"I'm fucking trying!"
The classroom that the NakaNaka faction used as their home base was a wreck, as were most classrooms in the building. A tattered neon yellow flag with the school's logo dangled from the ceiling, and the faction leaders were sitting on the desks that were haphazardly thrown together in the middle of the room, drinking cheap beer that Tsuji had picked up on his way here.
The boys were buzzing at the prospect of getting involved in a SWORD matter, of proving themselves as worthy fighters in Murayama's eyes. The wireless speaker in the corner of the room was blaring hip hop music as loud as Fujio was able to get it without causing a ruckus, and everyone was singing.
"Guys, guys, if we beat the Mighty Warriors, do you think that Bianca Tsumeragi will agree to go out with me?" Yasushi mused, crushing a beer can under his feet as he jumped down from the desk he was sitting on
"Fat chance." I laughed, dropping to the ground and using all of my strength to spin my body weight around, knocking Nakaoka over with my legs as if he were a bowling pin.
I got back to my feet with a smile, blowing a strand of hair out of my face. "Better luck next time, Nakaoka."
"Tsumeragi-san is the leader of the Sato Seven." Todoroki reminded Yasushi, leaning against the back wall with an untouched beer in his hands and something bordering on a mile on his face. "She would be seriously lowering her standards if she went on a date with you."
The boys burst out into laughter as Yasushi grumbled under his breath, sticking his middle finger up at the faction leaders.
They were eager to kick ass, but I had a sneaking suspicion that their hopes were about to get crushed. Midori had sounded deadly serious when we spoke the other day. She sounded like she was willing to grandstand that fight, lay down her own life, even, if it meant that she could keep those damn kids safe.
"Hey, can I talk to you guys for a minute?"
The room went deathly silent, music cutting abruptly as the boys snapped to attention, hiding beer cans and kicking trash under tables. Midori Yamada stood in the doorway, hands in the pockets of her corduroy jacket, a blue Oya bandana covering her hair.
"Sure thing, Cap!" Fujio shouted, throwing his arm up in a mock salute before Shibaman slapped his wrist out of the air.
"What time do we roll out?" Kiyoshi questioned, smacking his fist into his palm.
Yasushi bounced up and down on the balls of his feet, swinging his arms animatedly in a series of mock punches. "Yeah, when do I get to go out there and hand them a serving of whoop ass?"
Sometimes I wondered why I was still friends with him.
Knowing what was coming next, I leaned back against a desk, crossing my ankles and trying not to make eye contact. I hated confrontation, even when I wasn't directly involved.
