Ugly Girl: Aston Creek High (Book 1)

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Ugly Girl: Aston Creek High (Book 1) Page 11

by Sheridan Anne

Maze and I find a table set up with all sorts of drinks and I let my gaze wander over it. Hmmm, seems we have an alright selection available for the taking. I grab the bottle of Tequila off the table and Maze reaches for the shot glasses. I shake my head. “Nah, that’s not how we’re rolling tonight.”

  She grins as we walk away from the table with my fingers curled securely around the neck of the bottle. Maze takes the Tequila from me and starts uncapping the lid. “Let me show you around this place,” she yells over the music. “Damian’s got a pretty sick setup.”

  I nod, not wanting to have to yell over the music. Maze starts leading me around while we take turns swigging from the bottle. She shows me his house and I briefly wonder how she knows all the ins and outs of his home when I realize that I don’t actually care.

  We step out into the back yard and instantly get a face full of cigarette smoke from the douchebags on the football team. We squeeze our way through them and after nailing some dickhead in the guts for grabbing Maze’s ass, we make it out into the fresh air.

  The pool looks like a mess of bodies and flamingoes while there are clothes thrown all over the lawn. I spy Slade out of the corner of my eye and he instantly has my full attention.

  God, I hate him.

  He sits up on the railing of the upstairs deck, looking out over the party. He doesn’t see me as he’s far too busy with the girl standing between his legs, a girl who is certainly not Nessa but from the way Nessa looks up at him from the pool, there’s going to be issues that’ll keep him busy, not allowing him a chance to worry about tormenting me.

  Jealousy courses through me.

  What the actual fuck?

  I steal the bottle of Tequila from Maze and throw it back. “Right,” I tell her, pulling her back toward the house. “Let’s get fucked up.”

  ----------

  I stand in the middle of the dancefloor, throwing my head back onto the shoulder of…fuck, who is this again? Who cares? All I know is that as his lips press down on my neck and his hand slowly circles my waist then dips into the top of my pants, it feels fucking incredible. Intoxicating. And fuck, he smells good.

  Music pulses through me and right now, that’s all that matters. I lost Maze hours ago after Blake showed up and for a good part of the night, I assumed they were together but when I caught Blake in the bathroom eating out Kathleen Harris, I realized I’d never be the same. Seeing your little brother thinking he’s some kind of big man…ugh. It’s one thing to hear about it but to actually see it? I’m pretty sure I joined them in there while I hurled my guts up. Blake thought it was fucking hilarious but I get the feeling that Kathleen didn’t quite agree. I’m really going to have to have a chat with that boy about the company he keeps.

  Wait. Maze? Where the hell is Maze?

  Fingers squeeze my waist. Oh well, I’m sure Maze is fine.

  My ass grinds back into the guy as his hand travels dangerously low, following my lead. Damn, that’s good. Why do I have to be so fucked up? If only I had the ability to shut the past out, I’d be upstairs in one of those many bedrooms letting him deal with the ache that’s been steadily building between my legs.

  My skin grows clammy with sweat but it doesn’t stop our bodies from moving together, if anything, it makes it all that much better.

  The guy’s head suddenly pulls up from my neck and I crane my head to find out why the hell he’d dare stop. As my eyes raise over his strong jawline, I swallow a gasp. Shit, I’ve been dancing with Damian. I’m a fucking idiot.

  I don’t know if he’s dancing with me purely to get in my pants, if he’s too drunk to even realize it’s me, or if he just wants to fuck with me and got carried away when he felt my ass press up against his dick. Whatever it is, it’s stopped now and my body is craving the touch.

  His hands don’t leave my body, nor does he stop moving, but something has his attention, and damn it, I need to know what.

  I follow his gaze across the room and there he is. Slade Cruz, staring right at us, taking in Damian’s hand on my body, the way I grind back into him, and I sure as hell know that he sees the euphoria on my face.

  Hunger fills his eyes and I find myself putting on a show. I move my hips, roll my body, and tilt my head, offering myself up to Damian who takes the bait.

  The hunger intensifies and as Damian reacts to my touch and presses his lips back to my neck, a darkness clouds Slade’s gaze. Confusion filters through his eyes and I realize it’s the same damn confusion that’s baffled me since day one. He wants me, but he wants to hate me more, and the thought of Damian having me, makes him want to fuck things up, but one thing is for sure, he will never have me.

  A smirk lifts the corner of my lips and I bring the near-empty bottle of Tequila to my mouth and take a long, hard drink.

  Slade tears his eyes from mine and I feel myself struggling to breathe. Why do I allow him to have this intense effect over me? He stalks away but Damian is quick to take over the need that Slade left pulsing within me. “Fuck,” he rumbles. “He’s going to have my balls for this.”

  I turn in Damian’s arms and he doesn’t once let his lips move from my neck. “Why?”

  He shakes his head and wordlessly makes it clear that this conversation is over, but I don’t really care. Well, at least, I shouldn’t. Why should it matter what Slade does to Damian and his reasons why? It’s got nothing to do with me…or maybe it does? I don’t know but I don’t want their bullshit to kill my buzz and from the way Damian keeps his body moving against mine, neither does he.

  We finish off the bottle and after the very last drop is gone, the bottle gets tossed over Damian’s shoulder, not caring what the hell happens to it. A preppy blonde steps into view and I can’t help the laugh that bubbles out as she watches her play toy messing around with someone else.

  “Uh-oh,” I say, digging my elbow back into Damian’s ribs as Rachel stands before us, fuming at the sight of his hands on my body and the love bites that are most likely covering my neck and shoulders. “You’re in trouble.”

  Rachel starts making her way toward us as Damian glances up and scrunches his face in irritation. “Fuck her, she’s just a little fun,” he tells me, slipping his hand into mine and pulling me through the crowd of grinding bodies. “Come on. Let’s go upstairs.”

  Any other time, I’d probably say no, but I’m having far too much fun with him. He’s easily made me forget the bullshit from my past and all the Slade drama, though, that could have something to do with the bottle of Tequila currently sitting in the bottom of my stomach.

  We scale the stairs and we crack into laughter as Damian tumbles over one and nearly falls on his face. He catches himself and grins back at me, proud that he was able to remain upright.

  I chuckle at his back as he pulls me down the hallway and slams me up against a bedroom door without warning. I'm left breathless as his body squeezes the air from my lungs and he devours my neck.

  I haven’t had sex since…no. I can’t think of that now. This is different. So much different.

  I try to relax my body. I want this. I don’t care that Damian is just some random guy, and a guy that I barely like at that, but he’s not him and that’s all that matters right now. Maybe I could get this over and done with and come out the other end realizing that I’m capable of moving on. Maybe it’ll even be fun. One thing’s for sure, I’m never going to be able to move on if I never allow myself to open up and be vulnerable around a man.

  I need this.

  The music downstairs fades out at the end of the song and it becomes increasingly clear that the bedroom behind my back is already occupied. I grin up at Damian only to have fury ripple through his features, clearly not enjoying the fact that what must be his room is being used by someone who is not him.

  A low murmur rumbles through the wall before the familiar tone of Maze’s high-pitched moan comes following after, making me laugh that much more.

  Damian reaches around me for the door handle but I stop him. After all, a
girl has got to have a friend’s back. If she’s currently getting her world rocked, then we should do the decent thing and wait for her to finish or at least go somewhere else. I mean, I’ve never screwed on a washing machine but I’ve only heard good things. “We’ll go somewhere else,” I murmur, making him look back at the door, torn between busting the guy in his room and taking me somewhere to bury himself inside of me.

  Maze’s panting comes flowing through the wall again and I’m just about to pull Damian away when the next words out of her mouth have me stopping in my tracks. “Why do you hate her anyway?” pant. “She’s been through so much,” pant. “Do you know,” groan, “Anton Mathers murdered her parents? She was only a kid. The story she told me…oh, fuck,” she screams. “It was so messed up.”

  The fuck? So much for a girl having a friend’s back. What the hell was that? But more importantly, who the hell is she betraying my secrets to?

  I knock Damian’s hand out of the way and throw the door open with everything I’ve got. The door slams so hard that the handle on the other side becomes lodged in the drywall, holding it open.

  I storm into the room on wobbly legs with rage burning through me only to find Maze straddling Slade’s hips as he sits up against the headboard of the bed. His hands are on her waist, controlling her movements as she rides him like some kind of cowgirl.

  Their heads instantly whip in my direction as Damian follows me into the room. “What the fuck, man?” Damian growls, watching the scene before him as Maze’s eyes grow big and horrified, knowing damn well that I’ve heard every fucking word.

  Regret flashes strongly in her eyes and she attempts to pull herself off of Slade but it’s too fucking late. The damage is done. She betrayed my trust to the dark side, all so she could get the fuck of a lifetime.

  I was wrong, this bitch ain’t no friend of mine. It turns out that all a girl can rely on in this life is herself. So, without a word, I turn on my heel and stalk out the door, more than happy to never see her again.

  Chapter 13

  How has this become my life? My whole world is falling apart all over again. Apart from Blake, I literally have no one I can trust. I want to be able to trust Shay and Ben, but adults have a way of being greedy assholes with ulterior motives and so far, while they’ve shown kindness, I still can’t find it in myself to trust them. Maybe it’ll come. Shay is certainly making one hell of an effort. Maybe she’ll claw her way in and refuse to let go. I hope she does, God knows I need her to.

  Thick gray clouds cover the sky while the road glistens with water. It’s been raining since late last night. In fact, I could probably tell you exactly what time it started raining seeing as though I haven’t been able to find enough peace to fall asleep, and this time, it has absolutely nothing to do with my knife.

  Being betrayed by adults is a non-event for me. I’ve long gotten over the fact that adults are jerks, but being betrayed by someone I called a friend, it stings in a way that I wasn’t prepared for.

  I shouldn’t have been so surprised. Maze was hinting that she’s been wanting to fuck Slade since the second I met her. I should have been expecting her to try and get close to him, but the fact that she was telling him about my parents…that hurt. It took a lot for me to open up to her about that and she told him like it was nothing, she told him while he was buried deep inside of her. Who the fuck does that?

  I step out into the dewy morning, hating that feeling of everything being damp but after another shitty weekend, I need the space to think. Well, technically I’ve had space all weekend, apart from the insistent texts and calls from Maze trying to apologize. She’s even showed up a couple of times but after thoroughly telling her to fuck off, she finally got the hint.

  I can’t handle the bright and cheery car trip with Shay this morning, so here I am, walking with the threat of the skies opening up and making me it’s bitch.

  I make my way down the path, trying to do some of that meditating bullshit but let’s be real, I’ve got no fucking clue what I’m doing. What I need to do is find Robbie McDowell and get me a hit of the good stuff.

  I look out at the road as the morning commuters busily make their way around, to school, to work, busy moms racing to get a workout in before heading home to their babies, fathers heading out early to get a few hours of overtime to help put enough food on the table for their families, and then there’s me, the most fucked up of them all.

  There’s something about the way the road looks after it’s rained. It’s almost refreshing, kind of like all the bullshit has been washed away and is ready for a whole lot of new bullshit. Let’s hope that can be the story of my day. I’ve washed away Maze and now I’m ready for something new.

  I let out a heavy sigh and do my best to keep my mind off it. I can’t keep thinking about this depressive stuff, especially today. I want to be strong. I’m about to walk through the door of Aston Creek High and meet my doom in the form of Damian. I’m sure he’s the kind of guy to tell the world that he fucked me and be believed. After all, nearly the whole school witnessed my ass grinding against him.

  I’m going to have a sour Rachel who’ll demand an explanation, Kathleen pissed off that I destroyed her bathroom action, Maze demanding my attention every moment of the day begging for a chance to explain herself, and then Slade…

  I don’t know what’s going to happen with him. Everyone else is so predictable, but him. I can’t work him out. Two weeks ago when I first started here, I could have sworn I knew exactly who he was. I had him filed away in the school bully/alpha dude category but he’s making me want to reevaluate because the way he looks at me with that deep hunger and need tells me that there’s so much more going on here.

  I don’t understand why I allow him to get under my skin like this. It’s absurd. I come from a world where every second guy is an asshole like that, but in walks Slade Cruz and I’m crumbling. He makes me feel as though I have something to feel ashamed of which also makes me want to climb him like a tree.

  That very first day, he made me feel ugly. I’m not, I know that, but at the same time, Lucien did a good job at making me question myself.

  Why do I find it so hard to escape the ugliness of this world? Once I can finally learn to put it behind me and move forward, then I’ll find happiness and love, but let’s be real, that shit ain’t going to happen for me any time soon. For now, I’m a lost cause.

  I step up in front of the school and pump myself up. I can do this. I just have to walk in, remind people that I’m not the chick they want to fuck with and then somehow get through my day.

  I let out my breath and start walking. I go through the doors and am thankful that the school isn’t too busy yet. It’s still pretty early in the morning. I guess all my over-thinking on my walk had me set a pace that I wasn’t quite aware of.

  A few cheerleaders linger round and I instantly get unimpressed scowls which I return with a devilish smirk and a dip of my chin in thanks. Clearly, they’re either jealous or pissed off for Rachel's sake, but either way, they’ve done the one thing you’re not supposed to do in war; they showed their cards.

  I stroll past them, enjoying the bitchy snickering that comes as I pass. The cheerleaders I meet are always the same. There’s the captain, the official top-rank cheer-skank who has control over her team and the majority of the female student body, and then there are her sheep, the rest of the cheerleaders. It’s always the same yet I can’t find it in me to ever get bored of it. It’s always fun messing with them and giving just one of them false hope that they don’t need to be a sheep. All hell lets loose and watching them scramble for the pieces of their perfectly put-together team is always a little mid-term fun.

  As I reach my locker and go to put in my code, I can’t help but notice a broody asshole at the end of the hall with his bedroom eyes on my body. I cringe, this is going to be awful.

  Damian pushes off his locker and makes his target known while the cheerleaders snicker and bitch in protest. I start preparin
g myself for the inevitable turndown for when he offers to finish what we started when Maze steps in between us and makes him wait for his turn.

  “Just hear me out,” Maze says, coming in strong with her begging.

  I pull open my locker with a little too much force and stare directly ahead. “There’s literally not a thing you could say to me that could convince me to hear you out.”

  “Please, I just want to explain. I didn’t mean to sleep with him. He just kind of appeared and well, you were practically screwing him on the dancefloor,” she says, hooking her thumb in Damian’s direction. “I figured you didn’t care anymore, and damn, he’s just so hot, I couldn’t say no when he crowded me up the stairs. I swear, I wanted to say no for your sake but I just…I couldn’t.”

  I turn on her, hating nothing more than someone’s weak, pathetic excuses for something I don’t actually care about. “You think this is because you wanted to get your world rocked by Slade Cruz? Are you kidding me? I don’t care that you fucked him. I honestly hope you had a fan-fucking-tastic time. I hope he made you come so hard that he destroyed you for every other dickhead in Aston Creek. I care that you told him about me. You told him something that I have never told anyone. I haven’t even hashed out that story for Blake,” her eyes grow wide but I don’t give her a second to cut in. “The second you got a little male attention, your loyalty flew out the window. You betrayed me for dick. So, congratulations, you’re officially a social-climbing whore just like everyone else around here. It’s all about getting to the top and not caring who you have to step on to get there.”

  “I…I’m so sorry,” she says, her eyes filling with tears that I don’t give a shit about. “I didn’t realize witnessing your parents’ murder was a secret.”

  I let out a groan as whispers start filling the hallway, and instantly, without making out their words, I know exactly what’s being said. ‘Poor Skylah,’ ‘How sad for the new girl,’ ‘No wonder she’s such a bitch, she grew up with no parents.’ ‘I’d be a cow if my parents were murdered too.’

 

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