t w e n t y f o u r ~ Chains

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I snatch Kayla's arm and pull her back a few steps. She yelps and spins around, her eyes wild until they land on me and start sparking. She smirks at me, but doesn't pull away.

"Ditch your last class with me,'' I tell her.

"Pretty Boy, I can't just-"

"Come on, you know want to," I say, releasing her arm. She bites her lip and looks back at Lynnara who I just now realize is standing there. Lynnara rolls her eyes.

"I can't believe I'm saying this, but go," Lynnara says.

"That's not my Lynnie."

"Don't stand here and wait for me to take it back, because I will." Kayla grins and steps forward to kiss the other girl's cheek.

"Oh my gosh, I love you," she says. Lynnara laughs and returns a kiss to Kayla's cheek.

"Love you too. And Kyle," she starts, meeting my eyes for the first time. Her eyes are brown, like brownies and fresh mud. "Don't let her talk you into anything too insane. I still want my best friend back in one piece." I nod once and then Kayla is grabbing my hand and tugging me down the hall. The two of us start running and burst out of the doors. No one even cares. We keep going across the parking lot and to the field, stopping at the bleachers. But this time we don't duck under them, instead we climb up to the back row and sit outside. I laugh and ruffle her hair.

"Look at you, Good Girl. Three months with me and you're already staging mutinies." She beams up at me.

"You're just lucky I already picked up everything from my locker for the day." I smile and roll my eyes.

"I wish I could say I was shocked, Good Girl." Kayla takes off her backpack and sets it at our feet.

"Pretty Boy?" she asks staring straight ahead.

"Yeah?"

"Do me a favor and punch anyone else who ese calls me that."

"What?" I question.

"Just punch them in the face."

"Okay," I drawl. She sighs and puts her legs up on the bleachers, with her back facing me. "Am I allowed to ask why?"

"No." She shifts again, laying down with her back against the metal and her head in my lap. "But you can draw blood," she continues. I furrow my eyebrows and tilt my head to the right as I look down at her. La La? "Why do you that?"

"Do what?"

"Ask if I'm okay all the time?"

"I'm still confused."

"You furrow your eyebrows and tilt your head to the right every time I make you freak out about something." Do I? I just look at her. Her eyes don't leave mine, they stay connected daring me to say something.

"Can you blame me?" I ask softly.

"For what?"

"You act on impulse." 

She smiles lazily. "It's called living, Pretty Boy." 

And what if you get yourself killed, La La? But I don't say anything else. I just slump back against the chain link fence behind us. "Why did you agree to ditch with me?" I ask her.

"You feel like home," she murmurs. I whip my head down to look at her. "I don't know why. It's not like I've ever had one of those." Her eyes dodge mine as she shrugs.

"What does home feel like?" I ask, suddenly parched. 

Kayla smiles delicately. "Happy. Really happy. And..." she hesitates, "safe, I think. Like nothing in this world can touch us. Like it's us against the world."

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