Just let me understand you || Tsukishima Kei Story

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Y/n's pov

Really you could call me a track athlete because the way I ran to the car is giving the official track team a run for their money (literally).

"Drive now," I say ducking down. "Before I get victimized again."

"I thought that I said not to start a fight," Christopher says. "What happened?"

"Just drive," I say. "Hurry."

"Fine," he says as he starts driving away from the school. "God, my first real day on the job and I'm gonna bring you home looking like this."

"And there's no way that you could have called this a fight, it was more of a beating," I say. "I hate school."

"Who did this?" he asks. "Do I need to get in a fight?"

"It was a girl," I groan. "Unfortunately you won't be able to throw any hands."

"Well didn't you tell the principal?" he asks.

"It was his daughter, and if she's racist then I can only imagine how her dad is," I say. "Can you believe this shit?"

"Racist?" he asks. "What did she say to you?"

"Well she only really said stuff about my accent, but I've heard that her last victim was someone from Hong-Kong," I say. "And is my accent that bad when I speak in English?"

"Who cares about that stupid stuff, your accents fine," he says. "You shoulda fought her back, probably would have taken less damage."

Depression.

"This was me fighting back," I sigh. "And I still got beat to a pulp, this is so embarrassing."

"Oh... but was it a fair fight?" he asks.

"She basically beat people on the lacrosse field," I say. "And me going up against anyone in a fight equals an almost immediate loss."

"Did you play volleyball?" he asks. "Spiking the ball and stuff."

"Yeah but my spikes are different than actually throwing hands," I say. "I'm not Wakatoshi, I can't just scare people away, or step on them."

"Your brothers going to step on me," he says.

"Pft, as if," I shake my head. You'd win in that fight, one thousand percent. Wakatoshi is pretty strong but he'd definitely lose against you."

"Well it doesn't matter because I'm not gonna be fighting your brother," he says. "Ever."

"You should fight him on my behalf," I nod my head. "I'll give you permission."

"No," he shakes his head while he lets out a laugh. "I'm not fighting your brother, I don't need too."

"Ugh fine," I sigh. "Then what can you do?"

"Things that won't get me in trouble," he says. "Oh and I'm not allowed to bring you to my apartment, per your mother's request."

My mom must think I'm a whore of something, or maybe it's genuine concern. I guess we'll never know.

"That's nasty," I say. "And she thinks that I have a dirty mind, the audacity."

"Well you're a child, you've got curfew and stuff," he says. "Oh and I ran your errands, shirts and shoes, they're in the back."

"Oh thank fuck, I've been wearing my brother old sneakers from a few years ago," I say. "Middle school or something. And his shirts to, they make me smell like a Nike outlet."

"Why didn't you have any of your own shirts?" He asks.

"Do I have to answer that?" I ask.

"Well no, it's not like I'm your boss or anything," he says.

"So does that mean that I'm your boss?" I ask.

"Uh, kinda," he shrugs. "Technically your mom is my boss but I'm supposed to be your William so I do what you say to some extent. You'll be my boss when you're eighteen, maybe twenty."

"That's weird, don't call me your boss," I say. "Feels illegal. Gimme a new title."

"Bird," he laughs.

"Listen here, I only pick at my food when I'm nervous I don't always do that," I glare.

"Friends then?" He asks.

"Yeah friends," I nod my head.

"You can call me Chris," he says.

"And you can call me anytime... Wait that sounded wrong, I didn't mean it like that," I say frantically. "Erase that from your mind, it was a natural response."

"No need to get so worked up," he laughs again. Lita not the end of the world."

"Oh thank god," I sigh. "Just forget that Christopher."

And no I'm not calling him Chris, Christopher makes it fancy.

"The only thing I have to worry about is exposing why you look like this," he says parking his car.

"Don't worry you didn't even do anything," I say, "We good."

Brought to you from my phone while it's floor time at school.

-Crouton