Code Red

Chapter 9: Maybe... Just Maybe

Chapter 9: Maybe… Just Maybe

My body cringed in fear as I tightly held onto the newly found poster. I turned on my heel slowly and looked into the furious blue eyes of Dylan.

“U-um. You see… I…” I stammered, looking for an escape out of this tight closet. Unfortunately, the only way out was the doorway and Dylan’s bulky body stood blocking it.

“Spit it out,” He barked, urging me on.

“Well, I was going to hang up your jersey, because you know, I was trying to be a nice person, but then I found this. Care to explain how you are the ‘State Champ’ at a boxing match?” I demanded, putting my free hand on my hip to show some seriousness.

“No,” He leaned over and tried to rip the poster out of my hand, but I wasn’t letting it go that easily. “Nina…” He warned, holding out his hand. “Give it back.”

“Dylan…” I retorted in the same warning voice. “No.” No way in hell was I giving this back until I got answers. And if he didn’t want to give me answers, I was going to force them out of him one way or another.

“Why do you have to be so annoying?” He groaned, running both of his hands through his caramel brown hair. His usually spiked hair was flopped down, resting just above his eyebrows. He looked incredible both ways if I have to say so myself.

“Runs in the family,” I shrugged, a small smile playing at my lips. His distraught, angry expression turned into a softer one, him even trying to surpass the smile edging its way to make an appearance. His eyes twinkled with amusement and my heart did a happy dance in my chest.

“I’m not going to tell you, so just give it back,” He demanded, the smile disappearing when he clenched his jaw.

“Hmmm… If you’re not going to tell me, I might just have to take a picture of this bad boy and show everyone until someone tells me. Are you a pro boxer?” I narrowed my eyes and started to slip my phone out of my back pocket.

“You’re bluffing,” He chuckled a humorless laugh and gave me a knowing expression.

“Oh really?” I snorted, unlocking my camera. I snapped the picture and as soon as the flash went off, I made a dash for the space between his body and the door frame. Maybe if I angled myself right, I could get through! Right when I was about to duck for under his arm, the floor flew out from underneath my feet.

“Shit!” I cursed, feeling my back slam on the floor. I landed on a pile of clothes with a weight on top of me. Dylan was situated on my torso, his weight crushing my frame. My legs thrashed from underneath him, trying to get out of his strong grip but with no luck. He leant back a little and added more pressure on my legs; they immediately weakened and lay limp on the floor. I still held the poster and phone in my hands which were above my head, my wrists in my hands. “Get off of me, you fat ass!” I sucked in a breath, which was a challenge since he was positioned right on my stomach, his knees on the sides of my hips.

“Thanks, I appreciate that,” He notified, rolling his eyes. “Let go, Nina.” He ordered prying open my fingers one by one. Much to his dismay, I kept flinging them back into place as soon as he left to go to the next. “Just let them go!”

“Tell me!” I bargained, squeezing my eyes close in an attempt to hold on tighter.

“Nina, I am warning you. Let go now and let me delete the damn picture!” He fumed, gripping my wrists tighter in one hand.

“No! What’s the big deal anyway? Does no one know that you are some sort of famous boxer?”

“I am in no mood Nina!”