The idea to hire Asa Jennings as a bodyguard struck me when I saw him enter the school parking lot this morning, riding a pink bike.

When I say pink bike, I mean pink bike, with a little basket, an image of Barbie on the frame, and glittery beads decorating the spokes. The type little girls - and boys, let's not judge- with a special love for pink and Barbie ride.

Nobody said a word. Aside from the beads rattling with every turn the wheels of the bike made, there was dead silence following him. When someone finally had the guts to joke about the hot pink bike during lunch, Asa shut them up with a look. Just a look.

The existence of the pink bike would be added to a long list of unexplained phenomenons and rumours surrounding Asa Jennings, and not even the most interesting one.

My personal favourite, mostly because it was so ridiculous, was the rumour about the burglar.

They said when Asa was ten, there was a burglar in his house trying to steal his mom's jewellery. While the rest of the family was fast asleep, Asa had woken up from the noise, grabbed a baseball bat, and knocked the man out cold. Him. Just a little ten year old in pyjamas and a big, wooden baseball bat.

I would call bullshit on this story for anyone else; these things only happened in my video games to bulletproof main characters. In real life these incidents were rare and often exaggerated and to be taken with a big spoonful of salt. But, for Asa? Asa, who got away with riding a glittery Barbie bike to the most judgemental high school in at least a two-hundred thousand mile radius? Yeah, he would beat up a grown man at age ten.

I estimated I had about a fifty-fifty percent chance he'd kick my ass too for talking to him.

However, if I didn't try to talk to him, I had a hundred percent chance of getting my ass kicked in the locker room next week, when all our classes merged into one P.E. class due to pay cuts. Gotta love the oblivious gym teachers, who have no idea that more people in the gym means an exponential worsening of the P.E. experience for guys like me. And if they knew, I doubted they cared because kids who weren't naturally talented in sports didn't exist to them.

Asa better talk to me, or I'd endured Rolf pretending he was going to crash his car into me for nothing while waiting outside... and there was pretty much nothing I could do about it.

I stuck my hands into my pockets, shivering in the cold November wind or maybe just from utter fear as I approached Asa, who was unlocking his pink bike. My heart drummed wildly in my chest and I already felt my face going beet-red. I was off to a great start.

Part of me wanted to keep walking and forget about the whole idea, but with the locker room beatings I would have to endure if I didn't do this fresh in mind, I forced myself to I stop next to Asa, in his line of vision.

Asa continued wrapping the chain around the frame of the bike, pretending I didn't exist.

I cleared my throat.

No response.

"Uh, Asa?" I squeaked, after gathering all my courage.

Finally, Asa turned his head and looked at me, one brow slightly raised.

"Gabriel Hill," he replied, and I nearly jumped at hearing my full name coming from his mouth.

I was so sure he had no idea who I was, given he was one of the cool guys and a senior, and I was a grade below him and infinity less cool. We obviously didn't share classes, but he had P.E. at the same time slot I did, which was also very convenient if I ever needed locker room protection.

"You know my name?" I blurted, immediately regretting my decision as Asa stared me down.

Literally.

While Asa wasn't a particularly broad guy, he was tall. With his pale, pretty boy face and dark curls he did not look that intimidating in theory. But it was all in his eyes, his attitude, and the fact that he could even kick the twice-as-broad quarterback's ass if he wanted to.

He'd proven that last summer in yet another wild story. And I knew this story to be true, because I'd been there in the crowd when Asa utterly humiliated the arrogant quarterback by tackling the guy and then giving him a wedgy. A taste of his own medicine, given that the quarterback liked doing that to smaller guys who couldn't defend themselves.

I averted my gaze, unable to stand maintaining eye contact. My heart hammered in my throat.

"Uh, I'm sorry," I murmured. "I just wanted to ask you something."

There was no reply, but at least Asa wasn't taking off and ignoring me either. I saw his sneakers, one foot tapping on the concrete impatiently. I tentatively took it as a sign I should continue talking.

"I wanted to ask if you'd sit with me during lunch. Oh, but not without something in return! I'd pay you, of course."

I paused and cringed. In my head, that had sounded like an okay question. When saying it out loud, I realised how weird that actually sounded. Like I wanted him as a whole different kind of escort. And now I spontaneously couldn't remember what else I wanted to say. The entire script I'd thought up beforehand, designed to make this offer sound a little less weird, had just flown right out the window. Great going, Gabriel.

"No, no, not like that either," I quickly amended my words. "I meant: keeping Rolf and his friends away from my table so I can eat my lunch in peace. Maybe sometimes stop them in the locker room, if sitting together at lunch isn't enough to make them leave me alone indefinitely. That's what I meant. I know, it sounds stupid but I'd be willing to pay you and—"

"Fifty," Asa cut me off.

"I-- what?" I forgot about Asa intimidating the crap out of me and stared at him with a slack jaw.

"Fifty a day for sitting at your table," Asa explained with a blank expression, utterly unimpressed as if this was a normal Friday afternoon event to him (I wouldn't be surprised if it was, to be honest). "Double that if you expect me to say anything to make Rolf fuck off."

I grimaced. Crap, fifty was a really steep price. If I had to pay Asa that amount every school day, it'd be all the monthly income I had.

But, perhaps sitting together for only a few weeks was enough for a long term effect, and it'd be worth the investment in the end. If people knew Asa Jennings had my back, they wouldn't dare to do anything to me at P.E. and hopefully I could ride the fear wave at least until the end of the year.

I bit my lip.

"Okay," I hesitantly said.

I visibly flinched when Asa suddenly jutted a hand in my direction. But his palm was faced upward - he wasn't about to punch me. I gaped at him, unsure what to do.

"Pay up front," Asa clarified curtly when I failed to respond properly for a few seconds.

"Right! Right!" I exclaimed, dropping my wallet on the ground in all my haste to pull it out.

I placed a fifty bill in Asa's palm, very careful not to touch him and then retracting my hand as if he was a hot stove. Who knew if he'd get pissed off if I accidentally touched him or let my hand linger too long? Especially when I did it.

Asa stuck the fifty in his back pocket.

"Uh, see you at lunch Monday?" I tried, not knowing where I got the sudden courage or stupidity to talk like that.

Predictably, Asa didn't reply. He only shot me a glance before getting on the pink Barbie bike, and taking off.