by Rachel Jonas
“Well, for one, he’s had more girls on their backs than all the gynos in the county combined. Meanwhile, Joss is a known virgin. The wicked playboy and the angel don’t exactly scream ‘match made in heaven’,” she points out.
A laugh slips when I realize how ridiculous that sounds. “I’m sorry but ‘known virgin’? What does that even mean? How could anyone possibly know something like that for certain about a person?”
Lexi chuckles while explaining. “I mean she’s, literally, taken a vow to save herself for marriage. Granted, I think it’s something her parents put her up to, but she wears this symbolic ring and everything. Takes it pretty seriously from what I hear.”
The dynamics of their group are interesting enough, but I still see them all as a bunch of arrogant tools who’d plaster an entire hallway with one, unsuspecting girl’s dark secret.
“But enough about Cypress Prep’s royal court,” Lexi says with a sigh. “How are you liking your classes so far?”
My shoulders lift with a shrug and I sink my teeth into the apple again. “Fine, I guess. Same shit, different side of town.”
Although, my day had gotten off to a particularly ugly start.
“I actually got some pretty good teachers this year,” she comments. “At least, most of them seem chill.”
I nod, thinking to myself that I’d settle just for not having any classes with the triplets. So far, I’d gotten lucky, but there were still three class periods for all that to change.
“What’s your elective?” she asks.
“Mm … I got placed in Gym this semester, but not by choice. Pretty sure they gave me whatever scraps were left.”
I assume that’s how it goes for ‘scholarship kids’ like me.
“What hour?”
It takes a sec to remember, since I don’t yet know my schedule by heart. “Sixth, I think.”
“Sweet. Looks like we’ll be suffering through that one together,” she replies.
“Cool! Should make things more bearable.”
She nods casually before checking her phone. “Shoot. I gotta run and catch my weed guy. He bails from his post about five minutes before the bell rings.” I watch as she quickly gets to her feet. “In the meantime … don’t let this place steal your soul,” she warns. “Happens easier than you think.”
After that, she walks off, disappearing inside the building in search of her ‘weed guy’ or whatever. It’s just me again, although I feel someone watching. Even before I search for his heartbreaker-greens across the courtyard, I know it’s freakin’ West. Unable to fight it, I let my eyes wander until locking with his.
Only, he’s closer than expected, because he’s coming right this way. Like the stalker he is.
Suddenly feeling a loss of appetite and wanting to avoid whatever his evil ass has in mind, I toss what’s left of my food into the trash bin. My hope when I hightail it toward the door right after is that I’ll make it inside before he reaches me. However, just as I snatch the door open, it’s slammed shut and a large hand catches me across my torso.
Hot, lengthy fingers splay across my bare skin when his palm lands just beneath the hem of my cropped t-shirt. I’m spun quickly to face him, then those inked arms cage me between his impressively massive body and the glass. Having flashbacks of being cornered just like this a few days ago, one fist tightens at my side while I’m contemplating smacking him with the tray I have in the other.
“I see you’ve made a friend,” he teases, grinning like the villain he is. “Makes sense the two of you would link up.”
I fight the urge to ask what that means, knowing he won’t explain.
“What do you want, West?”
With my question, the small space that exists between us suddenly disappears.
“Just making sure you enjoyed that little surprise I arranged for you this morning,” he growls against my ear, moving strands of my hair with his breath. “I sure did.”
I’m, legit, quivering as my eyes dart around, wondering why none of the monitors have stepped in. But I suppose, from a distance, it might be difficult to tell what’s going on exactly. West isn’t using much force, and with the sick smile he’s wearing, this could look like something else. Like something startlingly less awful than the truth.
I’m sure Pandora will have a field day, likely labeling it foreplay.
“Get away from me!” My voice isn’t loud, but it’s forceful, leaving no room for him to misunderstand the seriousness of it.
“Get away from you?” he asks incredulously, leaning away as he pops a brow. “But I’m just getting started.”
There’s a promise embedded in those words and they fill my very soul with dread. Because, beyond the shadow of a doubt, I know he means them.
“You’d be wise to watch your back,” he warns in a low, gravelly whisper. “I’ve sicced the dogs on you now, so I’m not the only one you need to look out for. I’ve only brought the girls up to speed for now, but they definitely won’t be playing nice.”
The sense of dread deepens with what I imagine that means, and I’m sure he notices. The stare-down between us intensifies and I want to knee him in his balls. Especially when that dark gaze of his unhurriedly slides from my lips, down my neck where I feel my pulse throbbing, to my breasts.
His expression shifts then, but his eyes stay glued to me. Within his gaze, there’s a strange mix of raw lust and hatred and, apparently, it’s contagious.
Because now, I feel it, too.
His heartbreaker-greens flash up to me again and the evidence of his need quickly burns away, like it never existed. It leaves behind only the fury I’m used to seeing there. Maybe even more than usual, and I’m not sure I realized that was possible.
“You should’ve stayed in the gutter you crawled out of,” he growls, “but since you’re here, guess that just means I get to enjoy destroying you,” he promises.
I’m sick of his arrogant ass, his bullshit threats, all of it. So much so, I’m nearly frothing at the mouth with rage, like a rabid dog waiting to attack.
Feeling a bit bolder than usual, I crane my mouth toward his ear this time, making sure he hears me clearly.
“There are lines you do not want to cross,” I warn. “I’m sure no one’s ever called you on your shit, but I’m not like the rest of them. I’m not here to be lorded over like one of your peasants.”
A quiet laugh escapes his lips when he lowers his head. The sick bastard actually likes it, being challenged, talked to like this. I can see it when his dark stare returns to mine and that thick vein in the side of his neck throbs.
“That’s what I like to hear, Southside. Keep it interesting for me,” he croons.
Those are his parting words, as the space between us widens again. The moment I realize he’s leaving, my breaths deepen with relief. I’m still the only thing he’s focused on as he backs away, until he turns and trudges back toward his table with that cocky ‘the world is mine’ stride that used to be such a turn-on.
Before I saw the real him, anyway.
It takes everything in me to suppress a growl. Initially, I believed this feud between us was all about status, his belief that I don’t belong here at his school. But with the stunt he pulled this morning, and the way he came at me just now, it feels more personal than that.
Deeper than that.
It’s as though I’ve somehow wounded him without realizing it and he needs me to feel his pain.
All of it.
His obsession with ruining me runs deeper than I thought, which drives my need to understand why. At least then, I’ll know what I’m up against, giving me a chance of defending myself.
Or … maybe I’m looking at this from the wrong angle. Maybe I should be doing my bit to get dirt on him. As in, fight fire with fire.
The tricky part will be discovering a way to level the playing field without ruining my chances of succeeding here at Cypress Prep.
It’s a very tall order to fill, but I have to try.
<
br /> With his latest threat, everything important to me could be riding on this. I will not let West Golden win.
At least, not without a fight.
@QweenPandora: What’s this? Are we witnessing the birth of an unholy alliance? Looks like NewGirl and everyone’s favorite outcast—LostAngel—have struck up a friendship. Lexi doesn’t share her space with just anyone, but one pic suggests she might have even smiled today! I know, I’m in shock, too, but the images don’t lie. Maybe all it took to bring her out of her shell was a kindred spirit, a fellow troubled soul.
See there, NewGirl? Being outed as a member of the infamous Riley family wasn’t all bad, was it? And now, you and LostAngel have something to bond over … like, your siblings being cellmates.
Ohhh, yes, I totally went there.
Later, Peeps.
—P
Chapter 9
BLUE
Two uneventful hours come and go. They lull me into a false sense of security, and then BAM! Sixth hour rolls around, my guard is down, now here I sit at the center of the gold and black logo on the gym bleachers, pretending they aren’t sitting two rows behind me.
All of them—West, Sterling, and Dane. Along with Parker and her girls, who Lexi pointed out during lunch. Speaking of, she’s missing in action, which means I’m on my own.
Glancing down at myself, I can’t help but wish I’d chosen cuter gym clothes. But since I remembered to grab them at the last minute, I took what I could find—a faded pink tee and black basketball shorts I thought were the ones from last season. However, turns out I took the pair from freshman year that should’ve gotten tossed out eons ago. I’d grown four or five inches since then and filled out a bit. So, yeah, they’re ridiculously tight and weird-fitting.
Fun.
A sudden outburst of high-pitched giggling from behind may have nothing to do with me, but I’m willing to bet money it does. One of those douchebags probably took a shot at me. The thought of them sitting there, getting off on making fun of me raises my temp.
Doesn’t help that I can still feel West pressed against me, locking me against the glass. He likes that position, asserting power over me. I, on the other hand, hate it. To the core.
Anxiously tapping my foot, my gaze shifts to the clock mounted above the double doors, praying Lexi comes through them at any second, but we’re already six minutes into class. I can’t help but wonder if her absence has something to do with Pandora’s latest reveal. With mention of our siblings both being incarcerated, I suppose I now know what West meant about it ‘making sense’ that she and I would link up. It was bad enough I’d been outed for my family drama, but it seemed Lexi was now a target, too.
All because she dared to hold one conversation with me.
If she’s smart, she’ll take this as a sign and never speak to me again, for fear of getting dragged into the muck. However, the selfish side of me hopes she’ll stick around despite the risk.
Even if I’m not so sure I would do the same.
A woman has been sitting at a desk behind a floor-to-ceiling window since we walked in, but she’s standing now. A few seconds later, there’s an energetic spring in her steps when she pushes through the door separating her office from the actual gym. She crosses the court, grinning at all twenty-something of us like there’s no place she’d rather be than right here, looking after a bunch of hormonal teens for the hour.
“Afternoon, kiddos! I’m Mrs. C, your drill sergeant for this quarter,” she teases. “Looks like you’ve made it to the end of the day in one piece. Hopefully, everyone had a refreshing summer and you’re ready to hit the ground running. Literally,” she adds with a laugh. “For the rest of the week, we’ll be up on the track.”
I follow her finger when she points above, to the second-floor track that overlooks the court.
“Then, Monday, we’ll get started on our first unit. Swimming,” she adds cheerfully, pushing her cropped hair behind both ears.
A number of gripes and groans hit the air, likely because my classmates are dreading having to mess up their hair and makeup every day, but my dread stems from something else.
Like, the fact that I can’t freakin’ swim.
More than a decade ago, on an impromptu trip after he and Mom got into a bad fight, my dad whisked me and Hunter away to a friend’s lake house for the weekend. As usual, he was passed out drunk on the couch by eight P.M., letting the TV watch him. Hunter and me, left to our own devices and very little to do, decided to take the small rowboat tied to the dock out on the water.
At ages six and nine.
Long story short, tipping out of a boat in the dead of night when you can’t even tread water is enough to leave a kid scarred. Thankfully, Hunter managed to pull me out and get me back to the dock, but the damage was done. To this day, I don’t even entertain the idea of getting into water deeper than my waist.
Until now, I guess.
“Head upstairs and get a few laps in. No goal other than to keep running,” Mrs. C. concludes before grabbing a clipboard from the front row.
I stand, unable to help glancing at the door one last time, looking for Lexi.
Guess I’m on my own for real now.
One step into my descent and a bony shoulder slams mine. I peer up to find none other than Parker glaring back as she trudges down the steps. There’s fire in her eyes when I open my mouth to scream at her.
“What the hell?”
“Better watch your step, Little Manson,” she warns in the bitchiest of toxic tones.
I barely have a chance to recover from the first shock when another heavy blow hits my back. This time, it’s more than just a shoulder check. The chick full-on shoves me. So hard I nearly lose my footing and do a nosedive down ten rows of seating.
“Whoops. Clumsy me,” she says with a grin—Ariana, one of Parker’s minions. She had likely acted on Queen Bitch’s command.
At first, my focus is on the two who just assaulted me, but then it shifts to the one who’s really to blame—West.
Surprise, surprise … he’s watching with both brothers, getting yet another laugh at my expense today. He spots me and barely even acknowledges my existence, storming down the bleachers two at a time. I’m seething under the suddenly watchful gaze of Mrs. C., so I keep my cool, staring as their crew heads up to the track together, still laughing at my near-death experience.
I take my time going up, but when I finally reach the second level, I quickly blend into the crowd. Weaving my way through the moving ocean of bodies, I focus on the ones who’ve targeted me for no other reason than because they can. In their eyes I’m weak, which gives them a pass to push me around without consequence.
Only, I refuse to let it go down like that.
I weed out Parker with her prissy little run, and then I pick up speed. They don’t even realize I’ve gained on them, and they won’t until it’s too late.
Timing the maneuver perfectly, I stick my foot forward and hook it over the top of Parker’s. She struggles to steady herself, stumbling awkwardly while I watch the scene unfold. I can’t fight a smile, especially when she finally goes down.
Hard.
A blood-curdling scream rings out into the open space and I back into the crowd. Parker clutches her tiny ankle, and that perfectly tanned face of hers is suddenly red as a beet.
“Step aside,” Mrs. C. calls out, pushing through the tight circle that’s formed on the track. She’s barely even stepped inside it when Parker snitches.
“She did it!” Parker points. “She tripped me on purpose!”
I put on my best ‘Who me?’ face, and even look around as if to imply that she must be talking about someone else.
“Why would I do something like that?” The words leave my mouth sounding so believable, proving that my acting chops are much better than I realized.
“Don’t even try it, bitch,” Parker hisses, beginning to sweat a bit.
I’m guessing the pain is starting to get to her. While Mrs. C’s
back is turned, I don’t hide my smirk. I want them to see, want them to know I’m not afraid to strike back. Their whole crew.
My gaze flickers up toward West as he stares me down, both arms locked across his chest like he wishes he could hurt me.
Sorry, dick. Ain’t happening.
“I’m head of the dance squad! Do you have any idea what you’ve done?” Parker cries out. I mean, legit, cries out.
So dramatic.
“Relax,” Mrs. C. interjects. “We’ll get you down to the nurses office so they can take a look at you. I’m sure it’s not as serious as you think.”
Mrs. C’s gaze shifts to me, but I’ve long-since replaced my snarky expression with one of concern.
“In the meantime, you and I are gonna have a little chat,” she concludes. “In my office. Now.”
The crowd quickly disperses when it’s clear there won’t be much drama to come of this. Well, none they’re aware of, anyway. In fact, they completely miss that West hasn’t moved a muscle since I injured his little girlfriend. It isn’t until Sterling helps Parker to her feet and she loops one arm around his neck and the other around West’s that he even blinks.
It’s impossible to fight the smile on my face now. Told his ass not to mess with me.
“You’re here on scholarship, is that correct?” Mrs. C. rocks back in her seat when asking. I can’t help but wonder what that has to do with anything.
“Yes, ma’am,” I answer, knowing I’m expected to be on my best behavior. My stupid temper got me into this, now I need to turn up the charm to get me out of it.
“Well, Ms. Riley, are you aware of the behavioral guidelines associated with your continued enrollment here at Cypress Prep?”
I’m nodding before she even finishes.
“Yes, ma’am,” I repeat. “But I swear to you, I didn’t do anything to Parker. Or, if I did, I assure you it wasn’t on purpose. Maybe I got too close?” I suggest, trying to get at least somewhere in the ballpark of the truth, just in case someone did witness the act and decides to speak up later.