Never Say Never (Completed)

Four {What Do You Mean}

I sat on the edge of a lawn chair for a few minutes, legs crossed, waiting for Bryan to come to. I didn't have any idea where Ian had disappeared off too, but the older sister and caretaker in me, couldn't just leave Bryan unconscious on the ground, especially since nobody seemed to want to come to his aid except me. Honestly, I kind of owed it to him too, even if he had called me a bitch. He had shoved me out of the way before I'd become one with my best friend's fury and ended up in his position, this would make it so we were even.

I felt his leg twitch against mine now, a good five minutes after my best friend had knocked him out cold and glanced down to find him touching a hand to his bloody mouth. I rose, pulling the bottom of my dress down before it could ride up and offered my hand. He stared at it blankly for a moment, collecting his thoughts, then grasped it and forced himself to his feet. His hand immediately grasped my forearm tightly once he was up, probably because everything was still spinning. Between the alcohol in his system and hitting his head, he couldn't be feeling too good right now.

"You good?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. After another five minutes, he nodded slowly and dropped his hand to his side.

"Thanks." He muttered, blue eyes seeming to burn holes through me. "For staying behind to help."

He seemed pretty damn coherent for someone who'd just been in a fight that didn't go his way. Something told me this wasn't the first time this happened.

"Yeah. Whatever." I threw my purse over my shoulder, tearing my eyes away as I responded. "Maybe next time you'll take this bitch's warning. Try and keep yourself out of more trouble, Bryan."

Without another word shared between us, I shoved through a few cheerleaders and a crowd of guys I'd seen around school, and scanned the house for my best friend. Tristan, having stayed to watch how the aftermath of the fight played out, caught me in the kitchen.

"He's out by his car. Think you should probably drive." He suggested. I thanked him quietly, not even bothering to try and find where I'd left my heels and jogged out the door and down the steps. Ian was indeed out by his car, furious. I couldn't tell if it was with me, or the entire situation in general, so I didn't even bother trying to talk to him. I dug through both pockets until I found his keys and walked around the car to the drivers side.

He waited until we were both in the car and down the street, away from the party, to say anything.

"Just once in my life I'd like to be viewed as something other than the little Hispanic hood kid with no future."

My grip tightened on the steering wheel. "I know, Ian. But—"

"But what? Do you really know, Char? You've got friends besides me, you're pretty popular, you're beautiful, everyone loves you."

It could have been my adrenaline finally subsiding but what he said irked me so much I shot him a dark look. "Maybe we don't or never have lived in the ghetto, Ian, but the only reason my brothers and sister and I aren't on the street is because I bust my ass every day to keep a roof over our heads."

He bowed his head shamefully, muttering an apology before he rested his head against the window. I let out a shaky breath in order to keep my composure and focused my eyes ahead.

"Next time you want to have a night out, remind me to never let you do the planning."

His head whipped in my direction, irritation in his eyes. "Why? Because Grace doesn't know how to keep his mouth shut? I was defending one of the guys on the team."

"How about you let him defend himself?" I snapped before I could stop myself. "You want to be someone with a future, something other than the kid who grew up fighting for everything he had, then stop acting like it. Their battles aren't yours, and if you would have hurt Bryan any more than you did, his family could press charges. Then what, Ian?"