The Bad Boy and the British Girl

The Girl Who Can Fight

Authors note: heyallll, above is a photo of a character we haven't properly met yet, she's called Rachel McCarthy and she's a friend of Jessica's, I just wanted to get pictures of the whole cast out. Enjoy this next chapter!

Zach Graye's POV:

I just left from having tea at Liz's. I can see where she gets her feistiness from, her mom seems to be the toughest woman I've ever met. When Liz was explaining what had happened with her at the party, her mom was threatening to bludgeon him, but at the same time congratulating her daughter for being totally awesome. I left after about twenty minutes, because they begun talking about why Liz was annoyed and wanted to go to the party in the first place. I thought it best I leave since I slept with the reason, I also enjoyed sleeping with rather reason as well.

I'm currently in my room painting the drawing of the sky that I made earlier. My mom is downstairs baking cookies with my little sister and I can smell the scrumptious chocolate chip heaven from above the kitchen, I can hear them both giggling and it brings a small smile to my face. I turn up to the window and see a light flick on across the gap, Elizabeth has entered the building. Well she was already in the building but...you know what I mean. I decide to go my window and talk to her, just to say thank you. And see how far I can get with taking her somewhere again. I heave my window open and start to reach for a coat hanger, but I hear her opening her window, clearly she noticed me because I'm never really that subtle. I watch her shiver as the ever cooling breeze hits her, the weather is edging into early fall so everything is becoming a heck of a lot colder.

"Bloody hell, it's a bit nippy out here?" She exclaims in shock, her voice breaking slightly.

"Just a bit yeah, how's your hand?" I enquire, she's still holding the peas against it.

"A bit better, but not much. Worth it though." She lifts the packet to reveal bloody and bruised knuckles, she only punched him once...how did they get that bad?

"Jesus kitten. How are they that bad, you punched the guy once?" I ask in concern for her hand.

"Opening up old wounds I guess. That wasn't exactly the first time that's happened to me." She looks down at her hand and stretched out her fingers.

"That's happened to you before?" I demand answers immediately.

"How did you think everyone knew to just leave me to it? People apparently think I'm a punch bag. And it's usually because one of you cavemen has pissed someone off and I'm always believed to be the vulnerable little girlfriend. So little Tom Tom wasn't the first to take a swing at me." She says, still admiring her hand.

"You should bandage that up you know? Or at least a plaster. Trust me it will help. And even if he wasn't the first he will probably be the last, looking at the photos Joe sent me." I advice, looking at her hand with worry.

"I know. I know. I'm not stupid Graye, I'm just letting the air get to it first. And I know, Charlie sent them too. He deserved it." No doubt about that, stupid prick. There is a small gap of silence before I pipe up again.

"What are you doing tomorrow night?" I enquire, looking downwards as I say it.

"Walking to the park for a bit." She answers bluntly.

"By yourself?" I question, raising my eyebrows at her.

"I think we both know I can take care of myself Graye." She says dryly, rolling her eyes.

"No, no. I didn't mean it like that, I meant as in could I tag along?" I try to sound as sincere as possible, walking to a park sounds incredibly dull. Especially for a Friday night.