You Dont Fall In Love with a Childhood Enemy Turned Step-Brother...Seriously

"Over here, Kayla!" a young seven year old girl shouted to her best friend as they ran across the park field.

"Marisol!" little Kayla Hart shouted to her best friend, a bright smile on her face.

Kayla was a sweet child with bouncy locks of black waves and large, lively light brown eyes. She had a bubbly personality and was always polite. She was so cute in her flower dress and pink ribbons in her hair. Her best friend, Marisol Rodriguez, was an energetic and very bright girl with thick, dark brown hair and soft dark brown eyes. They were schoolmates and best friends for as long as they've known each other.

The two girls ran across the field, chasing each other, as their parents sat at a far off bench chatting away.

"Bet you can't catch me, Mari," Kayla challenged.

"No one can catch you, Kayla. You're too fast," Marisol protested. And it was true. Kayla was the fasted seven-year-old in their elementary school.

Kayla laughed brightly as she ran across the grassy, sun-drenched field.

"Well if it isn't little Kayla the Cry Baby," they heard the taunting voice of Jacob Summers say.

"What do you want, Jacob?" Marisol asked as she took her place beside Kayla.

Jacob was the bully of the school. He was in the year above the two girls but didn't let that keep him from hounding them. And he took pride in making Kayla cry.

"I wasn't talking to you," he snapped at Marisol.

"Just leave her alone!" Marisol shouted at him, giving him a shot to the shoulders. Which he returned, knocking Marisol to the ground.

"Don't touch her," Kayla said with a sad face as she knelt next to her friend.

"Fine then." Then he shoved Kayla to the ground. Laughing at her as she began to cry. "You're such a cry baby, Kayla," Jacob said as he kicked grass and dirt at Kayla.

Jacob walked away, enjoying the sound of the sweet little girl's cries as her friend tried to comfort her.

The sound of an alarm blared through the room of seventeen-year-old Jacob Summers. He stretched his muscular arms as he sat up in his plus-sized bed, letting his covers fall from his broad shoulders, down his chiseled chest and sculpted abs. He scratched the back of his head, messing his dark brown hair more than it already was. Jacob shut off his alarm and slunk out of bed. He picked up a pair of jeans and a shirt he had waiting for him over the back of his desk chair. His feet dragged across his hardwood floor as he made his way to his private bathroom.

He did his normal, everyday routine and dressed before he headed downstairs.

"Don't forget to get home early so you can help me with dinner," his father called to him as Jacob headed to the front door.

"Yeah, yeah. Your future wife is coming over. I got it," Jacob said as a brush-off as he closed the door behind him.

His father was seeing some woman that Jacob had yet to meet. They've been going out for a while but every time his father wanted Jacob to meet the woman, Jacob seemed to either find something better to do or conveniently forget about it and make other plans. This time, however, Jacob couldn't get out of it. His father purposed to the woman and now she was moving in. How horrid was that?

Jacob slid behind the wheel of his black corvette and motored off to school. As soon as he stepped foot out of his car he was surrounded by the sluts of the school, otherwise known as the cheerleaders. It was a mundane routine.

"Hi, Jacob. Lookin' good," Courtney, the head cheerleader, cooed in that oh-so irritating voice of hers.

"Hey," Jacob greeted back, flashing his hundred-watt smile. This, of course, was followed by eardrum-shattering giggles and seizure-looking eyelash fluttering. He detested how utterly open these girls were but he couldn't do anything about it. Not if he wanted to keep his place as the schools most popular guy.

"So, like, this Friday is, like, the school dance," Courtney said.

"Oh yeah. I forgot about that," Jacob responded indifferently, gaining more giggles and eye flutters.

"Well I was wondering if you, like, thought about who you were, like, going with," she said in a tone that was practically begging him to ask her out.

"Sorry, babe. Haven't put much thought in to it. Been kinda busy with sports," Jacob told her, keeping that fake smile on his face.

Courtney was the girl every guy in the school wanted to fuck. She was also the girl most guys in the school have already fucked. Jacob was one of the very few guys in their year that hasn't been between her legs. And he hoped to keep it that way. The girl would open her legs for anything that would boost her up the social latter or get her a good score in class. Needless to say, with her being the head cheerleader, she was already the most popular girl in school. And with him being the most popular guy in school, it was expected that the two would be a couple. But Jacob hoped to maintain his status as the most desired and yet most unattainable guy in the school.

Rumors started out that Jacob goes to clubs and picks up the hottest chicks then screws them and leaves them in a motel wanting more. Truth was, Jacob was a virgin. Sure, he's gone a few bases with a lot of chicks, but never all the way.

"So are you taking Courtney to the dance or what, man?" Derek, a long time friend, asked Jacob as they walked through the halls on their way to first period.

"I don't even want to go to the crappy dance," Jacob responded.

"But this is Courtney Carmichael we're talking about here. It's not like it's going to be a total waste," Derek said with a suggestive smirk.

"Whatever, man. I just-" Jacob trailed off as they entered their mix-grade math class and he found his normal seat occupied by an unknown girl.

The girl had long, dark brown hair that covered her face as she was bent over the desk, scribbling onto a notebook. She wore a pair of black Vans that were covered by black Tripp pants and a long sleeved, form fitting black shirt that hung to her gorgeous curves.

"Hey freak. Out of my spot," he said to the girl. But his breath caught as she looked up. She was so beautiful but her eyes were cold and hard. She had a scare across her left cheek and a small one down her right eyebrow.

"Whoa. Hey, babe. What's your name?" Derek asked her, obviously ignoring the icy glare she was shooting at them.

She remained quiet and returned her attention to the notebook.

"Come on. Don't be like that," Derek persisted as he moved his hand to tuck her hair behind her ear.

She slapped his hand away, glaring more coldly than before.

"Sit down," the teacher shouted as the tardy bell rang.

Derek went back around the row to sit in the desk on the left side of Jacob's. Jacob himself remained standing next to the girl in his seat.

"Derek. I said sit down," Mrs. Mitchell said.

"I can't. She's in my seat," Jacob told her as he lazily pointed to the girl.

"They aren't assigned seats. Sit somewhere else," she said sternly.

Jacob sighed and went back around the row like Derek to sit in the open seat in front of him.

Mrs. Mitchell started math class with her usual warm-up equations on the board. She'll have everyone write the stuff down, do it on their own paper, then call on people to go to the board and solve one. Then they had to explain how they got it. "Good, Daniel. Now, who can come up here and solve number three?" she asked the class. She made a show of looking around at all the people who kept their hands down. "Kay, why don't you come up here and show what you can do?" she asked as she looked at the new girl.

Kay looked up with her usual cold eyes. Then she stood and went to the board. She took the chalk and did the problem in one flow.

"Good job. Anyone think you can do number four?"

Not missing a beat to tick off the new girl, Jacob quickly spoke up. "Hey, she didn't explain how she got it."

"That's because I didn't ask her to," Mrs. Mitchell responded, also not missing a beat. "Now anyone? Number four."


"Man, that class was weird," Derek declared as we walked the halls to our lockers. "But that chick was still hot."

"You gotta be kidding me. She's the one who made class weird," Jacob responded.

Derek just shrugged his shoulders.

Jacob turned to his locker and put in the combination. "You'd do anything, wouldn't you?" Jacob laughed as he exchanged textbooks. When Jacob closed his locker, he found that Kay girl walking down the hall. Her head down and her backpack thrown over one shoulder.

Then she crashed shoulders with Blake Shelton.

Jacob stopped being the class bully when this guy came to town. Blake was just north of six feet tall with shoulder-length black hair that was always kept in a tight ponytail at the nape of his neck and piercing blue eyes. He was broad shouldered and had a scar on the side of his neck that showed he didn't have much of a cautious lifestyle. Rumor has it he'd spent eighth grade in juvenile detention. He had a bad temper and everyone made it a point to avoid him.

People froze when the incident occurred. Anticipation on what happens next.

Blake turned, ready to shove her, when recognition dawned on him. "Oh, hey there, Kay. Long time, no see."

Everyone watched in stunned silence as the school's unanimously-declared jackass threw an arm around the new girl's shoulders and walked off with her.

"Definitely weird," Jacob muttered to himself.


Lunchtime wasn't any exception. Everyone was shocked to see Blake Shelton actually allowing someone to sit with him.

"So how have you been?" Blake asked Kay.

Kay gave a one-shoulder shrug.

"Your mom still giving you a hassle about getting out and living?" he asked her with a grin.

Kay blew out a sigh. Blake chuckled.

"At least she's not in that overprotective mode she was in before," he pointed out.

Kay gave him a look with a raised eyebrow, not letting that fly.

Jacob sat two tables away, secretly catching glances of the new girl sitting with the school's most feared delinquent.

"So you think I can come by and see you after school? You know, to say hi to your mom and all?" Blake asked.

Jacob was stumped to watch as Kay made some hand gestures that were partially blocked by the table. Blake was watching her hands as well, sliding his gaze upward every so often to see her facial expressions.

"Well that sucks," Blake finally said. "But you could use some help at redecorating your new room. And don't worry about him. That's a jock for ya."

Blake sent Kay a deviant grin. One to which she returned.


The rest of school passed by slowly for Jacob as his mind continued to focus on the new girl, Kay. Even in football practice, he couldn't get his mind totally in the game. Which resulted in him doing extra drills.

Jacob was finally relieved as he stepped in the door back at home. That was, until his father came around the corner with a short, pretty, brunette woman attached to his arm. His father's new fiance.

"Jacob, this is Rosalinda," his father beamed at him.

"Hi," Jacob smiled politely as he softly shook the woman's hand.

The woman smiled brightly and Jacob couldn't help but lose his train of thought. Something about the woman's smile reminded him of something or someone. It must have been her dark hair and large brown eyes and that bright, almost child-like smile that got to him.

Before Jacob could think any more on the subject, blaring music descended from upstairs.

"Ay, that girl," Rosalinda said with a stern set to her lips as she looked back at the stairs.

"Girl?" Jacob questioned.

"Rosalinda's daughter. She's upstairs with a friend. They got back as you were in practice," his father answered him.

"Mija! Get down here!" Rosalinda shouted up the stairs.

Soon, the music was turned down and the sound of a door opening was heard. Feet shuffled down the hall and descended the stairs. Jacob stood bug-eyed and confused as he was faced with none other than the new girl and Blake Shelton.

"Jacob, I'd like you to meet my daughter, Kayla," Rosalinda said with her bright smile securely in place.

"They've met, Ms. Carrion" Black announced from Kayla's side.

"Oh?"

"We have a class together," Jacob informed her.

"Oh, I didn't know they mix grade levels," Rosalinda said but still managing to keep that bright smile of hers.

"So, Kayla Carrion, huh?" Jacob asked, not too enthusiastic in the subject.

"Oh, no. She has her father's name. Hart," Rosalinda corrected.

"H-Hart? Kayla Hart?" Jacob stumbled, thrown by this encounter.

"Yes. Is there something wrong?" Rosalinda asked, concerned.

Jacob let out an airy laugh through his nose, sounding more of hisses. "Cry Baby Kayla? You've gotta be kidding me. Since when did you lose the smile or tears?" he asked with a snicker, only to get shoved against the door and held there by Blake.

"Blake!" Rosalinda shouted, startled and scared.

Blake stared Jacob in the eyes, rage clearly gleaming across his face.

Kayla firmly took hold of Blake's shoulder, pulling him in a manner to get his attention. As she looked up to face Blake, staring him in the eyes, Jacob looked down to her neck. His attention drawn to the jagged scar across her throat.

Blake looked back at Kayla with anger which only calmed as she shook her head no. Blake let out a frustrated sigh and released Jacob from his hold.

Kayla took Blake by the hand and pulled him upstairs with her.

"What the hell was that about?" Jacob asked.

"He's very protective of her," Rosalinda replied as a way of apology.

"No, I meant what happened to her? Last time I saw her, she was running around and laughing with her friend..." Jacob stopped himself before finishing. The last time he saw her, he shoved her to the ground and made her cry like a baby.

"Things happen," Rosalinda murmured, her head down and the bright smile gone.

"Maybe we should talk before you go off and make an ass of yourself again," his father suggested as he guided Rosalinda to the living room and sat her down on the couch with him.

Rosalinda took a deep, calming breath and started. "A few years back, a while after we moved from here, there was an incident. Kayla was playing in the park when a pit bull came out of nowhere and attacked her. It latched onto her throat-" She took another deep breath before continuing. "She almost died." Tears started breaching the woman's eyes.

"She lost her voice," Blake said from the doorway of the room. "It was my fault."

"No, Blake. It wasn't," Rosalinda tried to protest.

"Yes, Ms. Carrion. It was my dog that tried to attack me!" Blake ran a hand through his hair. "Pit bulls are known to turn on their masters when they're around seven years of age. Their brains become too big for their skulls and it messes with them. Makes them crazy. I was taking chances with my dog. He was already pushing eight years. I shouldn't have taken him to the park." Blake let out a shaky breath with the memories of what happened flowing clear in his mind. "I was playing with him and he turned on me. Kayla was nearby and she pulled the dog off. He managed to get a slice on my neck. But Kayla wasn't as lucky. He nearly ripped out her throat." Blake choked on his words as he clenched and unclenched his fists. Trying to hold in his tears of pain and sorrow. "Someone said that I turned the dog on her. I got put in juvy until she woke up in the hospital and wrote that I didn't do it." Blake tightened his fist so much that his knuckles turned white.

Then a hand grabbed his. It was Kayla.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered to her.

Kayla made a few hand gestures, which Jacob recognized to be sign language.

"Of course it's my fault," Blake said loudly. "It wouldn't have happened if I didn't take the damn dog out to the park. I mean, you could have died. Hell, it could have been a two-year-old."

'But it wasn't' she mouthed.

"But it could have been!" Blake shouted, frustration overwhelming him. "And because of that, you couldn't shout for help-" His voice broke, remembering something from their past. Something that drew Kayla's face into an emotionless mask, her eyes as cold and hard as they were when Jacob first saw her in class.

Blake put his hands to the sides of Kayla's face, cupping her and holding her center to him. He leaned his forehead against hers, closing his eyes. Kayla's eyes were level with his chest, but her focus wasn't on him.

Jacob could only imagine what sort of situation the young girl he used to mock, used to torture, used to find satisfaction in making her cry...he could only imagine what sort of situation she was forced to endure because she couldn't call for help. Must have been what made her so cold and distant. Her emotions so hard.

No, Jacob didn't even want to imagine what the girl had gone through. But seeing the way things are, he couldn't help but feel a brotherly instinct for protecting Kayla from ever crying again. And being her new big brother, he would.