The Bet

Shayla snuggled closer into Dave's chest. This is how they spent their Thursdays - cuddling and watching Dave's favorite college football team.

"Dave?" Shayla asked before she could stop herself.

"Hm? Babe, you know we don't talk during the game." He didn't take his eyes off the television.

"Well it's important," she offered.

"Well what is it?" He quickly glanced down at his girlfriend, hoping not to miss anything important.

"Do you love me?" she asked, looking him in the eyes.

"Shay, what kind of question is that?" He was irritated that she brought this up now.

"Do you?" She gritted her teeth, her stomach becoming sick.

"Babe, you know I do. Now let me watch the game."

"That doesn't make it seem like you do. Not even wanting to talk to your girlfriend during a game."

"Where are you getting this nonsense from?"

"Nonsense? Love is not nonsense, Dave. If I am doubting our relationship, something is wrong."

Dave grabbed the remote from the side table and switched the television off. He sat up, causing Shayla to have to push herself up and he turned to face her.

"What has gotten into you, Shay? What has happened to make you think I don't love you anymore? You have been acting weird for the last week or so."

"I just talked...Well, he talked about his thoughts on our relationship." Shayla knew there would be a consequence for ratting Billie out, but she needed reassurance.

She was stupid for letting him get to her head.

"Who is he?" Dave sounded as disgusted as he was.

"Billie Joe--"

"That punk bitch! Always trying to get every girl that crosses his path," Dave muttered, shaking his head angrily.

Shayla protested by shaking her head. "I really don't think that is what it is. He was just talking out his ass."

"Well I'll make sure he knows not to do that anymore."

She fell back into the plush couch, folding her arms over her hungry stomach. She felt bad. She was the reason her was going to get an unexpected ass-kicking.

As Dave snaked his arms back around her, she remembered the way his tight shirt shaped his muscles. Maybe he would thank her.

"I love you Shayla," Dave said as he turned the game back on.

"Love you too," she muttered, laying her head on his burly arm.

*

Billie went on their daily voyage alone, for Mike had an English test to make up in Mr. Banks room.

He parked Rusty in his usual spot, pulling the single key out of the ignition.

His mind was exceptionally cloudy today since he got the joint all to himself. He stepped out of the truck and chuckled joyfully to himself as he stumbled forward a bit.

He looked up at the clear blue sky as he reached the sidewalk. The cool September breeze caused him to involuntary shiver.

"Hey punk!" A voice called out from behind him.

Billie turned curiously, putting up his hand to block out the sun. He squinted his eyes as he recognized Dave heading toward him.

"What do you want, Matthews?" Billie yelled back, turning fully to face his latest opponent.

"Who do you think you are telling my girlfriend I don't love her? Do you know how badly I'm going to fuck you up for that?"

Billie was stunned. Shayla had actually ratted him out. She hadn't seem bothered by his accusations. His lip curved up slightly in amusement.

"I only told her what I thought."

"Well, it's the reason you're getting your ass kicked," Dave growled, shoving Billie backwards.

Billie chuckled as he blood started pumping faster, running through his veins like a fresh shot of heroin.

After getting steady on his feet, he tackled Dave onto the hot concrete.

"I don't see why it bothers you. You don't love her." He grunted as his fist connected with Dave's mouth.

"Shayla's mine! Back off!" Dave leaned up slightly, meeting Billie's lip with a right hook.

"I don't want your fucking girlfriend!" Billie spat back, spitting blood onto Dave's shirt.

As Billie struggled to stay on top, Dave punched his rib cage. Billie punched Dave in the face once more, making sure it hurt.

"Of course you do!" Dave yelled. "Why else would you of said anything?"

"Because! I'm tired of her coming to class everyday with fresh, questionable bruises!"

Billie slammed the back of Dave's head into the ground, who in return shoved Billie off and quickly scrambled off the ground and kicked Billie in the side of the head.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Dave asked, huffing as Billie grabbed at his head.

"Gentlemen! What is going on out here?" A different, more powerful voice hollered from the entrance of the school.

Billie and Dave both looked up, like little boys who got caught with their hands in the cookie jar.

Billie slowly got off the ground and dusted himself off as the principal walked over to the two of them.

"Armstrong, Matthews. What do you think you two are doing on my property?"

"This asshole got what he deserved," Dave spat, pointing at Billie.

Billie rolled his eyes. "Mr. Williams, with all due respect, I did not start this one."

Mr. Williams rolled his eyes in return. He could smell the marijuana on him and grabbed his left wrist as if cuffing him.

"Save it for Mr. McCrumb, Armstrong." Mr. Williams explained as he begun to walk back toward the school, dragging Billie along.

Billie wasn't going to be pulled around like some idiot. He shoved off Mr. Williams grasp and stopped dead in his tracks. Mr. Williams turned in anger, refusing to be made a fool of.

"What do you think you're doing?"

"You aren't touching me, you piece of shit," Billie spat, spitting out more blood as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

He turned back toward Dave, his eyes narrowing into angry slits as he spit once more.

"Don't ever touch her again, or it'll be the paramedics coming to save you."