[Copyright © 2013 The Daredevil]

All rights reserved.

Dedicated to Sacha for being an awesome reader, not that the rest of you aren't just as awesome. Don't worry, though, if you are awesome, you'll get a dedication as well.

***

Ryder's POV

"Where the fuck are you going, Ryder?" Casey demanded, her tone darkening. Stopping in my tracks, I turned towards her and fixed cold, dark eyes on her.

"I don't owe you a fucking explanation!" I snapped, pointing a finger at her. Her glare intensified even more and she inched closer towards me.

"The fuck you don't. What the hell was that about?" she demanded.

"Lover's spat, you wouldn't understand," I replied with a bitter smirk, making her growl a low, guttural, unladylike growl.

"Cut the bullshit. Are you trying to sabotage my relationship with Drake?" she asked and I drew back deadpanned. Was she joking? She had to be.

"Are you fucking kidding me right now, Casey?" I declared, incredulity dripping off my tone.

"He hates you! He already thinks that we slept together and you beating him up, does not make anything better!" she screamed back, her arms flailing around with her anger.

"I don't give a flying fuck if Drake hates me," I laughed bitterly, "And I am not responsible for your relationship with the asshole. So sorry, if I'm not making things better but, it's not my fucking responsibility."

"We made a deal," she gritted out, trying to remain calm, but failing miserably.

"I made a deal with you to help you become spontaneous, a daredevil, free-spirited; whatever the fuck you want to call it. I did not make a deal to help you win your miserable excuse of a person ex-boyfriend back. That's your problem, not mine!"

Her eyes lowered to the ground at my statement, before lifting up to meet mine. "Fine...you're right. I just want to know one thing..."

"What?" I muttered, still seething.

"Why were you guys fighting? What did you say to him, Ryder?" she asked. My eyes shifted away from her for a moment before I answered.

"I don't get it. What exactly do you see in that guy?" I asked, avoiding the question. I didn't want to tell her that I hadn't been the one to start the fight. I knew it would hurt her to know that Drake had made a comment about her being a cheap whore. She loved and believed in the scumbag, it confused the hell out of me and I really did want to know what it was that she saw in him. Drake was an asshole, and I know that's rich coming from a guy like myself, but Casey was smart; I didn't understand how she hadn't figured out what an asshole he really was.

"People don't know him like I do, Ryder," she answered and I shook my head.

"One thing I'm good at is reading people. It takes an asshole to know an asshole, Casey," I replied.

"Why do you even care?" she asked and I found myself wondering the same. Why did I care?

"Because as much as it pains me to say this, and dear god does it pain me...you're sort of, kind of my...friend," I mumbled the last part, tucking my chin in my chest, staring down at my boots, before looking back up to find her grinning. I rolled my eyes, which made her grin grow.

"I'm sorry, what?" she asked, placing a finger up to her ear and turning her head slightly.

I gave her a look. "I said, you're kind of my friend."

"Awe, well you're sort of, kind of, my friend as well," she answered, lowering her voice an octave to sound like mine.

"Shut up," I grumbled and she laughed. When she walked over towards me, I took a step back before she wrapped her small arms around my torso, making me go still. "Um, what are you doing?"

"I'm hugging you, you neanderthal," she replied with a laugh.

"I don't like it; it's freaking me out," I answered and she laughed again. Pulling back she offered a smile and I gave her one in return.

"Um, shouldn't you be getting back in there?" she asked, shoving a thumb in the school's direction.

My eyes widened. "Oh shit, that's right, I've got a game. Gotta go, see ya' in there."

"Try not to smash my ex up against the glass, 'kay?" she yelled after me and I snorted.

"That's like asking me not to breathe, sweetheart," I shouted over my shoulder, a smile creeping onto my face.

***

Have you ever been so immersed in something that you don't hear anything else going on around you? Yeah? Well, that was happening to me the day Casey Stratford walked in on me watching Hannah Montana. Hey, don't judge me, asshole; it's a good show.

"Hannah Montana, Ryder, really?" My head snapped around at Casey's voice. Aw crap. This was something I definitely wasn't going to live down.

"What? It's funny," I replied.

She gave me an evil grin. "Smile." The glare of her phone camera's flash, blinded me for a moment. "I'm pretty sure a lot of people will find this very funny. You know, I'm really doubting your sexuality right now."

"Casey..." I growled and she laughed. "Erase that."

She paused for a minute to think then shook her head no. "No chance in hell."

"I swear, if you don't erase that..."I trailed, my threat hanging in the air when she started to dance to Hannah Montana's theme song.

"Who would have thought that the bad boy would double as a Hannah Montana super fan," she changed the words of the song, singing loudly and I growled. I got up of my couch and slowly stalked towards her. When she noticed what I was doing, her eyes widened and she started to back up in the kitchen's direction. I lunged towards her and she bolted out of the room, with me chasing after her. When I got to the kitchen I skidded to a stop. She was standing in the middle of the kitchen with a fork in her hands, ready to attack.

I stopped myself from laughing. "What are you gonna do? Pork me to death?" I asked, crossing my fingers that she would repeat my last sentence.

"Yes! You come one step closer and I'll pork you to dea-I never said that, you never heard me say that. If you ever repeat this conversation, I will find you and I will shove this fork into your eye," she answered and I had to stop myself from pumping my fist in the air triumphantly.

"Whatever you say," I grinned evilly. "Pork, pork." I thrust my hips as I said this and her eyes widened. I turned and bolted out of the room when she reached for me, laughing all the way to the living room. Those laughs were cut off when she jumped onto my back and grabbed me in a head-lock and started to give me a noogie, well what she called a noogie. It only made me laugh harder.

"Is this hurting you as much as it's hurting me?" she asked and I laughed.

"Nope."

She sighed. "I thought as much. What I'm I doing wrong?"

"Uh, everything?" I told her as I turned my head slightly to look at her over my shoulder. "You're using the wrong part of your fingers. You're supposed to use your knuckles."

She began grinding her knuckles on my head once again and this time it actually did hurt. "Okay, that's enough." I grabbed her by the arms and pulled her off my back.

"Thanks, Ryder," I gave her a confused look, "For teaching me another way to make you cry like a little girl."

I snorted. "I have never cried like a little girl."

"Uh huh." She hoisted her schoolbag off of her shoulder and placed on the floor.

"Hey, I will have you know that if I ever do cry, I will be crying manly tears," I retorted, crossing my arms over my chest, taking up a defensive stance.

She laughed. "I'm sure you will."

"How did you get in my house anyway?" I asked her.

"I kept calling out your name but you didn't answer, and the door was open." She shrugged and my brows knitted together.

"The door was open?" She nodded and glanced at me over her shoulder as she walked through my house to the living room, with me following behind her. "I thought I'd locked that."

"Nope," she replied and sat in one of the chairs at the table. "Do you have your book?"

I glanced around the room, "What book?"

She sighed. "Spanish book?"

I gave her a confused look. "Why would I bring that home with me?"

"Uh, so I can tutor you?" She shook her head and pulled a Spanish textbook out of her bag. Placing it on the table, she motioned for me to take a seat. "I figured you wouldn't bring it home, so I brought an extra one that Ms. Sanchez let me borrow."

I nodded and flipped the book open to a random page. "So where do we start?"

"We're gonna start with the basics. You know, like when you're teaching a child to speak, you start with the easiest things to say first. So we're goin-"

"How do you say boobs in Spanish?" I interrupted her.

She gave me dry look and I raised my eyebrows. "Are you serious?"

I nodded."Yeah, why?"

She sighed. "Ryder, if we're going to do this, you can't keep distracting yourself, or we'll get nowhere."

"Hey, you can't deny that I'm trying to learn," I smirked, sitting back in my chair.

She gave me a dubious look, trying to decipher how serious I actually was about my question. I raised an eyebrow. I was very serious.

"Ryder..." she gave me a tired look and I shrugged. "You're not going to let this go until I tell you, are you?"

I shook my head no and she sighed tiredly. "Fine. The correct term is tetas and the colloquial is chiches."

My face cringed with confusion. "Wow, that's not sexy at all, is it?... But...I can-"

She laughed. "You can still make it work, got it," she interrupted.

I nodded once. "Damn straight."

"Can we get back to tutoring now?" she asked with raised eyebrows and I rolled my eyes.

"Fine, if we must."

I drummed my fingers on the table as I searched my mind for the right answer to the third question. Casey had thought that it would be fun to see how much I knew, so she'd created her own little Spanish test. So far, this was only fun for her.

"Drumming your fingers on the table isn't helping you stay focused," I heard her mumble loud enough for me to hear.

"I'm sorry, is this bothering you?" I asked, drumming my fingers on the table harder. I watched her face morph into a scowl as her eyes focused in on my fingers. I made my fingers thump harder on the table and watched with a smirk as she slowly breathed in and then exhaled.

"Can you please stop?" she snapped when I started to drum my fingers faster.

I laughed and stilled my fingers. "You're very easy to aggravate, aren't you?"

She sighed with a sad smile. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have snapped. I've just had a really lousy day."

Great, now I felt bad. Was it weird that I felt bad? She just had a way of making me feel like a douche-bag whenever I hurt her feelings, something that I'd never had happen before. "Okay, now you're making me feel bad."

She gave me an apologetic smile, her eyes lowering to the table. "Sorry."

"Would you stop apologizing?" I demanded.

"What? Why?" She turned towards me, her eyebrows knitted together.

"Casey, you don't have to apologize for everything. You didn't purposely make me feel bad-wait, did you?" I paused for her answer. When she shook her head no, I continued, "I felt bad because I made your day worse; you don't have to apologize for that."

"Oh, okay, sorry." I gave her a look and she gave me a guilty one in return. "Sorry-sorry-I'm sorry, I can't help it, okay?"

"We're gonna have to work on that," I replied and her lips curved upward in an attempt of a smile, but came out as more of a wince.

"How did you learn Spanish?" I found myself asking curiously, changing the subject. For now.

"Nadia taught me when I was a kid," she told me with a fond smile. I could tell that Nadia was someone she really cared about. It was one of the things that made me curious about her mom. Casey spoke about Nadia like she'd been raised by her. Like Nadia was her mom. It made me wonder where her real mother was.

"How long did it take for you to learn it completely?" I asked her and she shrugged, looking thoughtful for a minute.

"About four to five months?" she answered, making it sound more like a question than a statement.

"It's not going to be that easy for me, is it?" I asked with a grimace and she shook her head with a laugh.

"I was barely six when she began to teach me. Children retain information better than adults do," she informed me and I nodded. She glanced around the room, her brows knitting together. "Ryder...where are your parents?"

I shifted in my seat uncomfortably. Where the hell had that come from? "Um, they, uh, they're not home."

"How come I've never met them?" she asked, curiously and I felt myself stiffen. I knew Casey wasn't trying to pry, but I still couldn't help but look for a way out of the question. It was a reaction I'd perfected over the years. When people found out about my past, they usually saw me differently. They treated me differently. For some odd reason, I didn't want her to treat me differently. I wanted things to stay the way they were.

"I could ask you the same," I avoided her question with ease, years of practice kicking in, staring directly at her to gauge her reaction. As much as I didn't want to share about my family, I wanted her to share about hers. I wanted her to trust me, even if I didn't trust her yet.

"You wouldn't want to meet my parents. They're not nice people," she mumbled under her breath, and I almost didn't hear her.

"Come on, I'm sure that's not true," I replied, giving her a sympathetic look.

She sighed. "If only." She glanced down at her book and when I opened my mouth to answer, she spoke up, "We should get back to studying."

***

I watched as Oliver fidgeted once again with a wince. He'd been squirming for the past twenty minutes and I was becoming curious. We were sitting in the locker room, getting ready for practice the next day and ever since he'd walked in, he'd been standing in a corner, alone, moving restlessly.

I decided to go see what was up with him, so I stood up and walked over towards him as the team began to leave the locker room.

"Ollie, the fuck is wrong with you, man?"

"Huh?" he asked distractedly as he glanced around the room.

Waving my hand in front of his face to get his attention, I smirked. His eyes focused in on me and he gave me a questioning look.

"Dude, you've been fidgeting like a fucking Chihuahua on crack for the last twenty minutes," I told him.

"It's nothing," he told me as he winced and crossed his legs.

"Looks like more than nothing to me," I replied.

He shook his head with a frown. "I did something stupid."

"What did you do?" I asked slowly.

He glanced down at his crotch then looked up at me with a sheepish expression. "I shaved my junk."

I glanced down at his crotch then back up at him, the words he had just uttered not fully dawning on me. "What?"

He sighed impatiently. "I said...I shaved my fucking balls, and now they won't stop itching."

I stared at him for a minute before I burst out laughing. He glowered at me as he cupped his junk and it only managed to make me laugh harder as I doubled over, clutching my stomach.

"It's not funny, asshole, they really itch," he glared.

I stopped laughing for a minute then bent over in laughter once again when he discreetly tried to scratch himself. "Why," laugh, "why the hell," laugh, "would you shave your balls?" laugh.

He ground his teeth angrily. "Chloe told me girls like that."

I burst out laughing again. Was he kidding me? Had he really listened to Chloe? Chloe, the ice girl that gave it up to just about anyone, no matter what he looked like? How the hell would she know what girls like if she liked absolutely everything? I voiced my thoughts to him in between laughs and he scowled.

"I don't know, okay?" He gave me a pitiful look and I laughed, wiping my eyes.

"Not only are you fidgeting like a Chihuahua, you're now also bare like one," I laughed and walked back to the bench were my gym bag sat, grabbing it, I headed to a door. "Shaved his balls," laugh, "what the hell?"

I was walking down the hallway to the gym, still chuckling at Oliver's disaster when the coach peered out his office and signaled for me to come over. I obliged and walked over to his office.

"Lock the door," he ordered as I walked in and I turned around to do so.

"What's up, coach?" I asked as I slumped down in the chair opposite his.

"We've got a problem, Cavanaugh," he told me, clearly displeased. I motioned for him to continue. "Two of your team mates didn't pass the test." I felt anger rise in me at his words. I warned them about this.

"Who?" I gritted out.

"See for yourself," he answered as he slid a white sheet of paper over the surface of the desk towards me. I grabbed it and glanced down, my eyes scanning the list for the two morons who hadn't passed the test. When my eyes reached the two names, I scowled, got up and stormed out his office. Spotting Oliver and Toby at the end of the hall, I marched down towards them.

"Team meeting, locker room, now!" I told him, my tone hard. He nodded and motioned for the players down the hall to follow. I walked away towards the locker room and waited for them once I reached it. A lot of things pissed me off, but the fact that some of these assholes didn't give a flying fuck about the rest of the team, grated on my nerves. We all knew that if one of us failed a piss test, it reflected badly on the entire team.

I turned around as the team started to pile in the room. Looking around, I made sure every one was there. "I was having a good day. It started of great. Had a girl give me head," there were hoots and hollers at this, "had an amazing breakfast, and even the teachers didn't piss me off for once in their life. The best part? I was having a rager tonight. But of course, that was too good to be true, wasn't it?" They glanced around at each other with confused faces. "Lucas, Elijah! Step in front."

The two idiots looked around nervously and slowly walked to the front of the group as every player gave them a sympathetic look.

"Take a good look, boys...Take a good look at the two morons that just cost you a two-day bender. Yeah, that's right; I was going to let you party at my house for two days straight, but now I won't."

The entire team began to curse and scowl at the two morons standing in the middle of the circle formed around the locker room.

"Fucking idiots," someone yelled from the back.

"My fellow team mates, we all know the price for putting your team in jeopardy." I turned around as I said this to face my team mates. "Bruce, please escort the gentlemen out the locker room once they've gathered their gear."

"No, come on, man, it was a mistake," I heard Lucas plead behind me and I turned around angrily.

"Get the fuck out of here. You put your team on the chopping block with the coach, so you don't get to speak. Get them out of here," I ordered and stomped over to my locker. Searching through my stuff, I found what I was looking for and turned to my team mates still standing in the room.

"Bruce, is the door locked?" He nodded.

"Alright, you guys know what has to happen now."

They glanced around at each other with smirks and evil smiles and I couldn't help but smirk myself. We hadn't had one of these in a while; it was going to be fun as fuck.