Chapter Thirteen - Second Strike

I kicked open the boy's changing room door, hoping to give off a serious I-mean-business impression, and marched right in.

There were about six players in sight, three of them seated on the bench, two standing around shirtless talking and one fixing his hair in the mirror. And all of them froze at the sound of the door hitting the wall as their heads snapped in my direction at the same time to gape at me with open mouths.

I almost held my hands up as a peace gesture and admitted 'shit I didn't mean to kick it that harshly' but I refrained. It would now ruin the offensive beginning of this operation, even though it had been unintentional.

When I'd snapped the door open, one of the guys, who I recalled was Chris, had just stepped out of the shower with his towel loose around his waist. When he saw me, he was completely staggered and barely paid any attention to his slacking towel until it almost came undone and he hurriedly grabbed it. Thank God for that!

I stifled a chuckle at the sight of these heavily built football players jumping like scaredy cats after seeing a girl in their changing room.

"Whoa!" Chris' eyes widened a little. "What the hell?"

I started scanning the room for the player I was looking for. After a few seconds, he appeared from behind the set of lockers to check out the commotion and his brown eyes instantly landed on me, flashing with bafflement. He had been in the middle of running his hands through his hair and just stopped, a deep scowl forming on his lips.

"You." I pointed a finger straight at my enemy. "Outside. Now."

His eyes narrowed and the room fell more silent, if that was even possible. It was like people had stopped breathing now. Every movement ceased and the next sound they all heard was the slamming of the door when I shut it to go back into the corridor.

I exhaled, then quickly regrouped.

About ten seconds later, the door opened and a pissed off Matt stepped out. He didn't say anything. All he did was fold his arms over his chest and scrutinize my face, eyes burning in a silent rage.

I had a rule when it came to my enemy. Return an insult with an insult, an attack with an attack and a glare with a glare. Basically, tit for tat. Yeah, that's what I was getting at.

So, after a moment of both of us just trying to turn each other into ash with our glares, he finally demanded, "what the fuck do you want?"

"What do I want?" I scoffed. "You know damn well what I want. Don't you dare ask me that when you're not capable of giving it to me, Williams."

"So, what's the point of this?"

"To give you a choice. Either agree to train me or..." I stepped up to him and he raised a brow. "...I make you agree to train me."

He must've been expecting a more serious threat because the moment I was done, his scowl eased off and a speck of amusement flashed across his face.

He took a step forward and angled his face down to look me square in the eyes. As much as I didn't want to, I took a small step back and watched his realization of gaining the upper hand here wash over him as his eyes gleamed up with self-satisfaction.

"Make me."

I tightened my grip on the juice box I'd been carrying in my jacket and filled in a long breath, considering it for the next five seconds. Can I really do this?

When I didn't do anything, an annoying little smirk curled across his lips over getting the better of me again. Shrouded with an air of arrogance, he took a step back. "Before I go back into the changing room without paying any heed to your empty threats, tell me, Becks..." He took another step back, eyes still fixed on me. "Rebecca was good, right?"

"You don't wanna do this with me right now. Trust me."

A low chuckle erupted from his throat. "You know I really wanted to get a good look at your face after Rebecca's little performance. That disappointment...despair, it was worth it back there but watching it up close beats everything. Defeat looks good on you."

I clenched my jaw in anger.

"You're a bastard," I spat scornfully.

He stopped moving back, his humour vanishing in an instant.

"And?" Suddenly ticked off at my words, he took a giant step towards me, making me shift backwards. His one step forward equalled my two steps back until I hit the wall behind me, a little flustered for some reason. I sucked in a breath when he placed his arm against the wall beside my face and tilted his head. "What are you gonna do about that?"

"I..." I trailed off, biting down on my lip. Could I really do it?

His chuckle snapped me out of my thoughts. "Look at you."

This couldn't be happening. I couldn't just keep letting him win.

"I thought you believed in yourself, Becks," he mocked. "What happened to that? I thought there was no negativity that could touch you yet somehow, Rebecca's got you down in the dumps just by striking one single good note. If you feel like shit now, imagine how it's gonna feel after six weeks. You're gonna lose in front of the whole school. And I'm gonna enjoy every second of it. Hell, I'll even get a front row seat just to watch you get defeated."

As I looked at the intense loathing in his eyes for me, I wondered how someone could be capable of so much hate. But in the very next moment, I understood it. Because I hated him more than he hated me. I hate him so much more; I decided as I looked into his spiteful eyes.

He leaned closer, making my breath hitch as he muttered, "but you're still gonna give it your best shot, aren't you?"

I swallowed, nodding slightly. For some reason, words refused to come out of my mouth.

"Then I'm surprised you keep insisting on getting my help because the last thing you need anywhere near your shiny, positive aura is a moral less fuckboy."

My eyes widened with realization. Truth really did hit him like a bitch, didn't it? "So that's what this is all about."

"It isn't. Your words don't affect me enough to make a decision based off of them. I simply don't wanna help you."

"I see. So, you just like to not keep your word in general?"

His eyes turned cold. With a sharp inhale, he pulled away from me. I finally caught my breath once his tall frame stopped hovering over me. But his glare was still keeping me pinned to the wall until he turned around to leave.

"I'm not done yet," I snapped, making him stop from heading back to the changing room. "And neither did I say that you could leave."

His shoulders heaved up with what I assumed was a deep sigh as he threw me a look over his shoulder. He looked at me like a wrestler would look at their opponent who'd risen after a horrendous defeat and needed one final smack. But I'm not that easy, Williams. Just as he started to turn back to me, I rushed forward and placed a hand on his chest to push him back, pinning him to the wall behind him this time.

He had no time to resist as I completely backed him up against it.

If he was caught off guard by my actions, he didn't let it show on his face. But something about the way his intense brown eyes swept across me made me forget that I was confronting him. I felt like the confronted instead of the confronter. They were smouldering with fury as they snapped down to my hand on his chest, which I quickly withdrew because I didn't wanna be touching him a second longer than I had to, not because I was afraid of him.

"Listen to me. And listen to me good, Williams," I stated, a little breathless for some reason. It must've been my anger. "You owe me something and I'm gonna take it by hook or by crook. I won't let you go back on your word."

Moments passed in silence. And with each passing second, I was breathing more heavily. Why the fuck is my body acting like I just ran a marathon?

Finally, his lips moved and he said in a much calmer voice than I was expecting after my actions, "you must be slow."

My fingers clutched the juice box again in anger. A small part of me was hoping it wouldn't have to come down to it but he wasn't leaving me much of a choice.

"You're going to train me or else..."

"Or else?" He raised a challenging brow. "Are you just gonna talk or actually do something? Oh wait! I already know the answer. You're all bark, no bite." With a condescending scoff, he started to walk past me but I placed my palm on his chest and pinned him back to the wall, finally making him lose his temper as he caught my wrist, eyes shooting me a cold glare.

"Listen to me, Andrews—"

He stopped talking when I pulled the juice box out of my jacket with my other hand.

He stared at it incredulously before his eyes settled on me to confirm this was my plan. His anger eased off as his fingers uncurled around my wrist, letting go and as unexpected as it was, a chuckle came out of his mouth. "Is that your trump card, Andrews? Scare me with a juice box so I would agree to train you?"

His eyes were sparkling with humour and he was actually on the verge of laughing for once. I should've been offended but I couldn't blame him. I'd laugh at myself too.

"Have you changed your decision yet?" I asked, keeping a straight face.

"Becks." He clicked his tongue, once again feigning sympathy for me as he shook his head, eyes shining with a challenge. "Not at all. What are you gonna do about that now?"

I cut a quick glance down the corridor. Anytime now.

"You still think you can spill this on me?" He beamed at me impishly. "Maybe if you'd caught me off guard, you might have been successful in your silly, little mission but now, you don't stand a chance. So why don't you go back and plan more foolish schemes while drinking your little juice, huh?"

I noticed the students walking past us suddenly straightening up and disciplining themselves when they turned into the left corridor. And I smirked. Almost there.

"You ready?" I asked Matt while poking a straw into the juice box to open it before chucking the straw into a nearby trash can.

His eyes narrowed as I lifted the juice box in the air.

"Are you serious?" He grabbed my arm over my head with a roll of his eyes and that's when I finally squeezed it.

The juice dripped right on top of my head until I squeezed harder and it flooded my hair, swiftly cascading down my face and chest, soaking my t-shirt.

Matt's lips parted and his brows pulled together in pure confusion as he let go of my arm, looking me up and down with a frown.

"Catch." I quickly threw the empty juice box at him and he caught it out of his reflexes. "What the hell..."

"Mr. Williams!" A loud snap echoed across the hall and we both turned our heads at the same time to find Principal Miller standing with her fists clenched to her sides, looking very furious. My timing couldn't have been more perfect. "And Miss Andrews. To my office. Now."

With that, she left.

Wiping the juice off my brow with my thumb, I threw a smirk at Matt. He was still baffled as he blinked at the spot where the principal was just two seconds ago.

"Ready for act 2, Matty?" I asked innocently and when his eyes averted to me, they had no trace of anger like I expected. Just sheer perplexity.

"Don't take too long." Winking at him, I made my way to the principal's office.

Five minutes later, when he entered, I was sniffling into the tissue Principal Miller had offered me and lightly dabbing it under my eyes to wipe off my fake tears. I had somehow managed to pull a few by remembering how a dog died in a movie once. It was a very emotional scene.

He sat down in the chair next to mine, still confused as he looked between me and the principal.

"All limits were crossed today, Mr. Williams." She shook her head at him and then turned to me. "And you too, Miss Andrews. We will not tolerate this kind of behaviour in this school. I sympathize with you after what happened today but it doesn't mean you had nothing to do with this."

"Wait a minute," Matt said, blinking and holding up his index finger. "It was all her."

"Right." I sniffled into my tissue again. "I spilled this juice on myself. I'm crazy."

He pressed his lips together in frustration before turning to the principal. "That is true. She did this to herself."

"It is one thing to do something so despicable and a whole other thing to lie about it. I expected better of you, Matthew, considering your excellent academic record and extra-curricular activities. I don't know what's happened to you."

He leaned back in his chair and exhaled in exasperation, running a hand through his hair. "This was a set up."

"Right. You want me to believe she did this to herself and you did that to yourself." She pointed to his clothes where a small juice stain was sitting.

"That is right! I cannot stress this enough but she did do this to herself. I can't believe I'm saying this but she actually managed to set me up. This stupid, little act she's putting up right now, if you're buying this—"

I sniffled into the tissue again.

"Will you stop that?" he snapped.

I gasped, placing my hand over my chest and turning to Principal Miller in shock as if asking 'can you believe this?'

"That is enough." She slammed her hands on her desk and leaned forward. "I don't even wanna know what it was this time. And it goes without saying but this is your second strike. Both of yours. And do I need to mention your punishments or you already know?"

"Oh yes, I know." I sniffled again. "Detention, right? Thank you. I'm getting used to it and it's like the easiest thing these days. Honestly the worst thing I could imagine was having to learn music from him for that stupid challenge."

Matt's head snapped to me so quick, I could bet he'd given himself a whiplash. But I didn't dare look at him. I couldn't risk bursting into a laugh at this very crucial moment.

"What was that?" Principal Miller asked with piqued interest. "What challenge?"

"Oh, it's nothing." I waved my hand dismissively. "You know how I sang in Rebecca Morgan's place that day? She got insecure and challenged me to this music battle. Yesterday, I was thinking about beginning my practice and I saw Matt walk down the corridor and I thought to myself, 'imagine if I have to learn music from him. That would be a punishment from hell.' But thank God, it's not—"

I stopped talking, pretending to have made a mistake when a pensive look reached her face.

"Um, forget I said anything." I started to get up. "I'll show up for detention after—"

"Sit down, Miss Andrews."

I bit down on my lip and settled back in my chair. "W-what for, kind madam?"

"A punishment from hell, huh?"

"Um, not really. Detention is worse," I pressed. "So much worse. Trust me."

She chuckled to herself and looked at Matt, then at me.

"When is this music battle supposed to take place?"

"Six weeks from now," I said quickly, then cleared my throat. "But why do you ask, Principal Miller?"

She inhaled with a smile. "You two don't have to attend detention. I have a better punishment in mind. Mr. Williams, you will be teaching her music at least an hour a day, every day except weekends if you'd like, until this music battle. And I better see the results after six weeks, okay?"

I gasped. "No! Please no. You can't do this to me. Please."

"That is enough, Miss Andrews. I've made up my mind. Are we clear on this, Mr. Williams?"

"Please, no," I begged. "This is the worst thing you could—"

"Perfectly clear," my enemy said, cutting me off.

Wait, what?

I turned my head to him and he was looking at the principal, face giving nothing away. When he sensed me watching him curiously, he turned to me with a little smile but I could see the bitterness behind it.

"Let's do this, Becks."

I eyed him with suspicion.

"That is great!" The principal slapped her hands on her desk as if she'd just closed a case. "If either of you decide to ditch it, the other should let me know and in exchange, I'll offer some credit. And if both of you try to ditch it, well I'll find out eventually and you both will suffer the consequences. Any questions? No? Great! You're both dismissed."

I got up and started towards the door, baffled, feeling him following behind me closely. Once we were out, I felt him lean down to my ear and he muttered, "you just love playing with fire, don't you, little firefighter?"

I don't know why I swallowed before casting him a wary look over my shoulder.

A look of pure malice was sitting in his eyes as his lips curled into a menacing little smile. "Well, now you get to."

With that, he walked past me.

Oh boy! I was supposed to feel victorious, right? Then why did I feel like I'd signed myself up for actual hell?

Maybe because I had.