Selling My Soul to His Royal Nerdiness.

Selling My Soul to His Royal Nerdiness. (5)

Annabel Taylor

"No real reason, she says! Antagonize the little girl, she says!" Noah raved, waving his arms wildly as he limped alongside me.

He stumbled and I caught him, rolling my eyes. He leaned on me and we shuffled toward the house together. "Oh please. She went easy on you. You still have all of your teeth."

"Easy for you to say," he snapped. "You were signing autographs whule she mopped the restauranunt floor with me."

"Not my fault that I'm so popular," I shurgged nonchalantly. "And you're so mad that you're forgetting that there might have been a purpose for me shoving you at Marie." 

"A point besides for your own amusement." He stated dryly. "Somehow I find that hard to believe."

"How?"

"You were on your knees, pounding the floor while laughing hysterically."

"Had you stood up to Marie, you wouldn't have gotten the spit knocked out of you. That's how it works in the world, Noah. And you. of all people, need to know that." I reached into my pocket for the key and took it out while he leaned against the doorframe. His left eye was splotchy and black. I grinned, a little proud despite the fact that he was still as wimpy as ever. Plan to get the nediness simply knocked out of him? Fail. But... "You retaliated a bit." I remembered.

She kicked him in the nuts and though he'd fallen to the ground, tears in his eyes, he still managed to swear. In French, yes, but it sounded very dirty. And then she scowled at him, crying on the ground, and marched off.

He was still very red about the whole thing.

He began turning even more red at my statement. He grumbled to himself as we walked into the refreshing air conditioning of the house. Three heads swiveled toward us, two blonde, one black.

West tilted his head and smirked. "Well," he drawled, "you look like you've just gotten the hell beaten out of you."

"Shut the hell up." Noah snapped.

Maybe this I wasn't a complete failure at being a good teacher.

*

"Hey, Anna, come look at this."

It was day two of boot camp and Chance was gesturing for me to sit next to him. I nearly growled. 

Chance was a morning person. A very bright, cheery one. His hair was perfectly mussed from sleep, while i looked like I'd just stumbled out of a place where combs and brushes didn't exist. He was even out of his pajamas--he was in a form fitting gray v-neck with dark cut offs. He was sitting at the kitchen table with a bowl of untouched cereal  and his laptop in front of him.

He looked as if he were about to burst out laughing, but looked worried at the same time. The expression you might get when your kid fell on his head.

I ignored him for a few moments, stumbling to the coffee pot that he had oh-so-awesomely turned on, grabbed a mug from the cabinent and filled it nearly to the brim. I dumped a few spoons of sugar and creamer.

Chance waited patiently as I took a few, searing, delicious gulps. The liquid sooothed me; my shoulders untensed and I put the mug to the counter, cracking my neck, then my knuckles. Then I walked over to Chance, leaning over his shoulder to see exactly what he was looking at. 

ALABAMA NERD GETS HIS A** KICKED BY A LITTLE GIRL

And there it was. The severe beating that Noah got on tape. It was posted on a social networking site.