Donovan slammed his fist into the punching bag one more time before stepping away. Sweat slid down his temples and back, his knuckles throbbing. On the coffee table, his phone buzzed, vibrating against the polished wood. He picked it up as he crossed to the kitchen.

"What's up?" he asked, setting the phone down on the counter and unwrapping his hands.

"I got those files you asked for," Brock said.

Donovan tossed the length of fabric onto the granite surface and reached for the remains of his power shake.

"Thanks. Same security measures?" he asked, leaning against the edge, the counter chilly against his bare skin.

"Yup. It's over eight hundred files so you should have some fun light reading to distract for a day or two."

"Anything to break up the boredom," Donovan said, downing the rest of the green-tinted smoothie.

Brock snorted. "Sifting through all the information on those files seems like a death sentence to me."

"That's only cause you haven't endured high school."

Brock grunted in response, the sound followed by a long pause. Donovan stilled, reading into the silence, already knowing what was coming.

"Mom called after we met up last night," he said.

Shaking his head, Donovan snatched the phone and walked to his room.

"You told her what I said last night, didn't you?"

Another weighted pause was confirmation.

"Dude, you know mom," Brock said. "I don't speak and she knows what I'm not saying. There was no way to keep it from her. Besides, she's worried about you."

"For no reason."

"Really? Cause after what I saw last night I would have to agree with her."

Annoyed, Donovan threw his phone on his bed and ran a hand over his face.

"I'm fine, just...penned in is all."

"I get it. Call her and tell her that, then she can stop bugging me about you."

Donovan dropped to the floor and fell into a rhythm of push-ups, the movement helping banish a bit of his pent up frustration.

"You're only annoyed," he said, between breaths. "Because she's worried about your failure to commit to Jaya."

"This is not about me," Brock said.

"Whatever you say."

There was a beat of quiet. "Look, I have to go. I need to get a report written up."

"A fairly believable excuse to not deal with your issues."

"I'm telling mom to call you," Brock said.

Sighing, Donovan flopped to the ground, laying on his back.

"I guess I deserve that."

"You do. I'll talk to you later."

Donovan nodded. "Okay."

The line went dead and Donovan remained on the floor, staring up at the ceiling. The silence that took over the room was unnerving like he was trapped outside of time where no one could reach him.

After a minute of sitting in the numbing exhaustion of a day already not ended, he hauled himself up and grabbed his phone. He found the email from Brock and went through three different forms of identification before the attachment was unlocked. He scanned briefly the contents, pausing on the name Carter Owens.

Before he opened the file, he checked the time. She would have to wait. Showered and dressed, he locked up his apartment and crossed to Link's. At seeing Donovan, Link grabbed his backpack and headed for the door. From the back, his mother called out goodbye.

When the pair pressed through the school front doors, Link searched the crowd. Donovan noticed the eagerness in his attention as he looked for Carter. Donovan didn't blame him, in a sea of admirers of his half-brother, she was the only one that didn't seem caught up in Mason's current.

As they stepped into the chemistry room, Link relaxed, leaving Donovan to take a spot beside Carter. When she looked at him, there was a hesitant, confused expression written on her face. Donovan wondered how many people she had often met who didn't come back for another conversation.

Taking his seat in the back, Donovan opened the file with Carter's name on it. He studied the information, some part of him making a mental note that she was eighteen, though he didn't dwell on why he chose to distinguish that bit of knowledge.

Though he got the feeling she was always ready to pick a fight, in the last four years she had only had one major infraction, the dislocation of a boy's shoulder. Either she was good at never being caught or had enough self-control to never let the fights become anything more than heated words.

The final bell rang and Mr. Miller called the class to order. The volume in the room dropped to a low hum as people shared whispers. Donovan chose to ignore the teacher's instruction of putting away phones, instead setting his bag on the table to obstruct the teacher's view of what he was doing. He felt the girl beside him glance over, but he didn't return her look. As class continued, Donovan read on.

As far as he could tell Carter wasn't a troublemaker though what he saw yesterday suggested otherwise. He was running a hand through his hair, trying to figure out whether she posed a threat or not when his name was called.

"Donovan, can you tell me what the answer is?" Mr. Miller asked.

Donovan raised his head and quickly assessed the problem written out and what the teacher was looking for. He threw out the answer, his teacher's response lost as he went back to his work.

Sensing her gaze, Donovan lifted his gaze and saw Carter scrutinizing him. It was a look that said she thought their lie of Donovan needing Link's help with homework was the dumbest cover story they could have told. Until her, it hadn't been. Donovan broke the connection between them, wary of this girl and her sharp eyes.

Gleaning all he could from Carter's file, Donovan backed out of it and scrolled through the list of names. One, in particular, froze him. Miguel Alvarez. Opening it, he saw a cheery face that was vaguely familiar. Swearing under his breath, he pulled up his messages.

"Did the Alvarez's move off base?" he texted his brothers.

He waited, turning over what it meant if someone from his past was at the school. Someone who had played alongside his brothers and him. Though Miguel had been younger than them, they had known each other for a solid two years before Donovan left. Six years was a long time if it was Miguel, would he even remember a childhood friend.

Brock: "Yeah, they moved the summer after you left."

Clint: "As far as I remember they relocated to the East Coast."

James: "Taking Gloria with them and with her my heart."

Clint: "James, we were under the illusion you didn't possess a heart."

James: "Only cause she took it. Man, that girl was hot as hell and twice as fiery." 

Donovan suppressed a grin, able to imagine Brock leaning back in his chair at his desk while Clint would be in his kitchen drinking coffee and James would still be in his bed, one leg dangling over the edge.

"Do you have any more concrete idea of where they ended up?" he messaged back.

Brock: "No, but I can find out."

"Please do."

The bell rang and Donovan stowed away his phone, feeling as it buzzed against his leg, James undoubtedly saying he wanted the information as well because he was destined to marry Gloria. Donovan highly doubted that since Gloria had never given James the time of day.

As Donovan stood, he hooked his bag over his head and made for the door. A girl - who sat across the way from him - scampered forward, settling in by his side. Donovan gave no reaction to her presence mulling over the chances Miguel was the same Miguel he knew.

"I know you are new here," she said, injecting a breathy note into her voice. "So, you know, if you ever need help on anything, let me know. I'm a great teacher."

Donovan was skeptical about this, he knew her note-taking was weak. As she leaned towards Donovan, he reflexively edged back, her perfume heady and not at all to his liking.

A mocking snort drew his attention away from his persistent admirer. Carter was resting on the lockers, her hands hidden in her pockets. Her posture was deceptive. Outwardly, she appeared at ease with the world, but there was a tension about her eyes that belied this fact. She was like a porcupine, someone came too close and they were likely to get hurt.

"I was completely lost about the whole thing with the isotopes, would you be willing to teach me?" she asked. "Or is it only attractive males that you have the heart of a teacher for?"

A blush raced across the girl's face and her eyes blazed with anger. Donovan stared at Carter, wondering what hurt was causing her to take shots at a girl who hadn't even directed her attention on Carter. The one positive side effect of Carter's words was the girl spun away. Pleased with herself, Carter pushed herself off the lockers. As Link fell into step beside her, Donovan took his opposite side, needing distance from this reactionary girl.

"Do you just not like blondes?" Link asked. "Or were you jealous that someone else had offered to tutor Donovan?"

When Carter gave him a flat look, he responded with a pleased smile. There was so much ease in the gesture that Donovan could see Carter had won his trust. Before Donovan could work out whether this trust was well deserved a sharp laugh cut through the thick layer of voices, followed by a weak protest, the sound diverging his thoughts. He scanned the hallway for the source. Further down stood a semi-circle of guys, facing a set of lockers.

Without saying anything, Carter strode over to them, determination written in every angle of her body. Link looked to Donovan as they followed, hearing another protest. Curiosity bubbled in his stomach, watching Carter approach the group. She would be putting herself in an outnumbered situation and he was interested to see how she would handle it. Her file said she could do without a major incident but he wasn't sure it would hold up for this moment. 

She flicked the ear of the guy on the outside of the semi-circle, giving herself an opening into which she squeezed herself. Instinctively, the guys all backed up. Donovan didn't blame them, there was an energy about her that said she was not someone to be messed with. From where they were Donovan could see a cowering figure on the floor. Carter stood in front of him like a protector.

"Good morning gentlemen," she said. "A little early for this much testosterone, isn't it?" Her blasé tone was undermined by the fact that her feet were spread apart. It was a fighting stance. "Hey Zac, how's the shoulder?"

A guy on the left rolled his shoulder reflexively. From the action, Donovan deduced that this was the recipient of the dislocated limb.

"Hurt pretty bad when the nurse popped it back in, didn't it?" Carter said, without any sympathy. "I offered to do it for you."

The guy beside Zac waved his hand, grabbing control of the situation. Though that control was an illusion of his own making.

"This is none of your business Owens, just leave," he said.

"True, but you have no business, getting into Edmond's business. So I have decided, since each of us isn't minding our own business, to get involved in this business."

Though neutral, Donovan could see in the rigged line of her shoulders telling the truth beneath her words. She did care. The guys exchanged looks, as Link glanced at Donovan his eyebrows raised as if to say, 'this girl is something.' Donovan gave a nod in agreement, his focus cutting back to Carter.

"Look, Owens, this is between us and Edmond. You should leave before you hurt yourself."

Even after years of being entrenched in it, Donovan was still surprised by the stupidity of teenage guys. A spark of anger flared in Carter's eyes and he shifted closer. With each second he was around her the image of a ticking bomb solidified in his mind. Dangerous, explosive and unpredictable.

"Look," Carter said, expression nonchalant, "although I have no personal feelings towards Edmond here I have even less feelings towards all of you, so I'm going to explain how this is going to go down."

She pivoted to the guy on the far left, authority and strength coming off her in waves. 

"I'm going to break your nose because I don't like your face."

She pointed to Zac.

"I'm going to dislocate your other shoulder, just to make them even."

Cocking her head, she gave the main guy a sickly sweet smile. Somehow that smile was more threatening than the words that they followed. Donovan crossed his arms, sensing as the air shifted and hardened into pulsating anger. 

"I'm going to break your wrist, taking away your baseball career. And finally you, Finch," she said, locking eyes with the last guy. "I'm going to bust your ankle because I don't like the way you walk." She slid her hands into her pockets, with all the command of a boxer in a ring. "Now, how does that sound to all of you? And please feel free to look amused, skeptical or patronizing at this point. I'll have all the more fun wiping the expressions off your faces."

As she finished speaking, her gaze fell to the leader of the group, her face hardening. Donovan saw the leader flinch, but he didn't move. Idiocy at its finest. When it felt like one of the guys might make a lunge forward, the leader forced a smirk cracking the tension.

"You know what?" he said his tone mocking. "We are going to leave because I would hate to ruin that pretty face of yours." He took a step back, relaxing with the motion. "See you around, sweetheart."

Laughing, the guys started to leave. As Finch past Carter, he smacked her butt. Link inhaled sharply as Donovan took a step forward, anger exploding in his stomach. This guy had a death wish.

But in a blink of an eye, Carter grabbed Finch's hand and forced it backward. Letting out a gasp, he sank to one knee, as she kept her hold on him. Carter stared down at the offender, her eyes were like two flames. She held his wrist with the perfect amount of control, enough to cause pain but not do serious damage. It told Donovan she knew exactly what she was doing.

"Touch me again and you will find out how fast I can break five of your bones without breaking a sweat," she said, her voice as sharp as a knife.

Like a blow to the stomach, the desire to kiss Carter slammed into him. The need to know what that sort of strength, command, and fire was like. Tasted like.

Clenching his fist, he bottled up the emotion and buried deep down. It took more resolve than normal to do so. Getting entangled in something with a girl as charged as her would never end well. 

"Understand?" Carter asked.

Finch nodded, pressing his lips together to keep from crying out.

"Good."

Releasing him, she spun towards Edmond. The ferocity of her expression died away as she looked at the disheveled figure. With a sigh, she took his arm and helped him up. Despite the heat of a moment before, her gesture was careful, almost tender. It spoke of an affection she held for the abused boy. Seeing her regard for his safety eased some of his wariness about her.

"Ed, what did we talk about?" she asked.

Edmond pushed his glasses up and rubbed his arm.

"Sorry, Carter."

"A couple of push-ups. You can even put the calculus book beneath you, so you can read. It would just give you leverage. Or an ounce of confidence, either one at this point would help you."

The short exchange spoke volumes of Carter's want to help the boy be able to face the world on his own. It was the type of gesture that made her not a hero but a supporter. Edmond nodded, his focus locked on the floor. Carter shrugged, though it wasn't convincing.

"Alright, I'll see you in A.P. Cal," she said. "Try not to get beaten up till then. You're the only partner I have in that class. I would hate for that to end because of your untimely demise."

Edmond gave her a shy smile.  "Thanks, Carter."

"Yeah."

She walked away, Link rushing to catch up with her and Donovan joined. 

"Bad morning? Or are you just the defender of the weak?" Link asked.

Carter gave him a sideways glance and shrugged. Again the action didn't hold the same carelessness she usually wore so well.

"I don't like Tuesdays and this one in particular."

Though her voice was even, Donovan detected a flash of pain in her face. It was gone so quickly it might not have been there at all. 

"Any reason?" Link asked.

She stopped walking. With her focus on Link, Donovan was able to study her, seeing the levels of emotions that paraded through her eyes. Despite the strength she had shown only seconds ago she looked vulnerable, in need of someone but afraid to let anyone in. After a heartbeat, she spoke, all emotion guarded behind walls too strong for anyone to get through.

"None whatsoever," she said.

She continued walking and the pair followed, Donovan puzzling over where her mind had taken her a moment. As they entered the history classroom, Mr. Philips nodded to them. Whatever hint of emotion had been there the previous day was gone.

Still, as Donovan took his seat he had the strongest urge to reference the teacher's file, find out what lay in his past. It was only the presence of Carter close at hand that stopped him from doing so. Though he might not be as cautious about her, he still didn't trust her.

**********************************************************************

Hello yellow dello!

(I'm pretty sure this is from HomeStar Runner for anyone who actually knows what that is)

What did you think? 💬🗯💭

As I was working out more of Donovan's story this plot development about a former friend being at the school appeared. Honestly, I'm really curious to see how it will play out.

That sound funny but this story is writing itself as I go along so I have no clue what will come about with this twist.

Also, did you catch the hint in there that Donovan's subconscious is already starting to like Carter about how he realized what age she was. *smirks* We see you Donny boy, even if you don't see it yourself.

Also I'm finding it trusting how Donovan is extremely wary of Carter, but let's face it, who wouldn't be. The girl is crazy intense and slightly intimidating.

Any how if you have a heart, a brain, and a working thumb vote, comment, and follow! If you don't possess those items then wow how are you living!