Yes, Brianna is pretty, but that doesn’t take away from her bitchy attitude or her willingness to open her legs for every cute boy she saw. I’m lucky enough to live next door to the bitch herself so I know this little fun fact from experience. I had seen more than enough boys coming to and from her house to last me a lifetime. A few have even resorted to using the tree that stood in between our yards as an entrance to her bedroom window. In the beginning of the summer there was one guy who had had too much to drink and had knocked on my window instead of Brianna’s. He was clinging to the tree for dear life and he had almost had a heart attack when he saw me. He screamed something about me dying my hair and that my chest had flattened overnight. I shook the memory from my head and clenched my jaw tightly as I stared at Brianna, who was currently batting her eyelashes at her newest victim.
I stared at her intensely until her eyes finally met with mine. She waved her hand in the air, waving at me with a smile almost as fake as her personality was. Then, she proceeded to strut toward me with her followers trailing behind her. Her smile grew wider as she drew closer. She stopped in front of me, looking over my shoulder to wink and wave at Blake who in turn looked confused by her actions. Gosh this boy was oblivious to the most obvious of things.
“Hey Blake, how’s it hanging?” She questioned, looking through me at Blake, obviously ignoring my presence. She looked smug at the double meaning in her sentence.
Blake furrowed his eyebrows. Brianna only talked to him on rare occasions when she bumped into us at my house. He must have been confused as to why she approached us in public, considering how she and I weren’t friends even in the slightest sense.
Ignoring the fact that she was talking to Blake and not me, I spoke. “Longer than anything you’ve ever sucked.”
Blake’s eyes widened for a second before he bit his lip to keep from laughing. Brianna turned toward me with cold eyes, her smile gone. “Not like you would know, Virgin Violet.” Her cohorts laughed and smiled like that was the funniest thing they had heard in their entire lives.
“You know I really do admire you, Bri Bri.” I smiled sweetly, leaning forward as I placed my hand on her shoulder. “The fact that you’ve had so many fuck buddies this summer and still have not managed to contract some kind of STI or gotten pregnant really does inspire me.” I smirked wickedly. “At least from my knowledge you haven’t.”
The look that came to her face made me want to buckle over with laughter. She looked flustered, angry, and embarrassed all at the same time. Maybe I hit a soft spot. One of the girls standing behind her stepped forward and rubbed her back in an attempt to comfort her, but being the bitch that she is, Brianna turned around and slapped the hand away from her back.
“Ella, don’t touch me,” she growled at the red headed girl who I assumed was Ella. “Who told you you could touch me?”
I couldn’t help but feel bad for the poor girl as her eyes widened, causing her to look like a deer caught in headlights. She was shorter than the rest of Brianna’s friends, and even with the make-up on her face she looked younger than everyone else.
“No one. I was just trying to help.” Ella’s vibrant red hair shielded her eyes from view as she stuttered, looking down at the ground as she spoke.
Brianna almost choked on her laughter. “Well, it didn’t help. I don't need your pity.” With those words, she spun around and stormed off, leaving her followers to do what they did best—follow. As they passed, every last one of Brianna’s bitches shot me a glare except for Ella who just held her head low in defeat and scurried past.
I smiled and brushed my hands together, pleased as I watched Brianna and her troop of trollops leave. Trying to gain my attention, Blake draped his arm over my shoulder and held a sheet of paper in front of my face. I stared at it blankly before realizing that it was his schedule. I had received mine in the mail last week while Blake had come to pick his up yesterday during office hours. Surprisingly enough, we hadn’t compared our schedules yet, so I pulled mine out of the side pocket on my bag and held it up so that we could do so.
I was frustrated when I saw that we only had one class together and it was the one class that we wouldn’t be able to talk in seeing as how the boy and girl classes were separated. I was also mad that the one class we shared happened to be our first period. Flipping the schedule over in my hands, Blake and I looked at the tiny school map on the back until we had located which way to go. I was happy to see that despite the new building, most of the classes were in the same general area, meaning that finding them would be pretty easy.
Blake smiled at my horrified expression as he tugged me toward the class that I hated the most—physical education.
Chapter 2
“All right ladies, shut your mouths and gather around!” A small, stocky woman―and I use that term loosely―stood with one hand planted on her hip while the other beckoned for the girls in my gym class and me to come forward. “We don’t have time for introductions. All you really need to know about me is that I am your gym teacher for the year and I would like to be referred to as Ms. Botch. Not Ms. Bitch, Ms. B, or anything else that your undeveloped teenage minds can think of. First off,” she held a pudgy finger up in front of her face as she squinted her little brown eyes at us, “I don’t take any bull-crap, and I don’t like excuses. Skip my class and you get a referral without hesitation. Everyone one of you,” her finger swiveled back and forth in front of her body, “will be here on time, and dressed appropriately for class. I don’t care what your social status is at this school because frankly, I don’t give a flying fla-doodle.”
To my utmost disappointment Brianna was to the side of me with her arms crossed over her chest. One of her minions stood at her side as they took turns glaring at Ms. Botch, and looking her chubby body up and down with scowls on their faces. After everything that Ms. Botch said, Brianna would scoff or roll her heavily makeup covered eyes like the pampered little brat that she is.
Once Ms. Botch had finished going over the rules of her class, she turned her attention to Brianna and smirked wickedly as she walked over to her. Stopping directly in front of Brianna, she gripped the front of her gym shirt into a tight fist causing Brianna’s eyes to widen in fear. Ms. Botch then positioned her body so that she was talking to the whole class while still holding onto the front of Brianna’s shirt.
“This young lady took the liberty of showing you what not to wear to my class! Your shorts should not be rolled up to the top of your thighs and by no means should your shirt be held back by a hair tie!” She reached behind Brianna’s back and pulled the hair tie from her shirt, letting it fall loose, before she continued her rant.
“Your hair should be tied into a neat bun or ponytail, and jewelry of any kind is not allowed! I will confiscate it without hesitation!” Ms. Botch let go of Brianna’s shirt and handed her the hair tie that she had taken off of her shirt. Afterwards, she motioned for Brianna to take off her earrings and bracelets, which Brianna handed over reluctantly, but only after she had narrowed her blue eyes, and a heavy scowl had slipped onto her face.
Smiling, as if making an example out of her student had brought some light to her day, Ms. Botch turned away before she began speaking again. “This is not a modeling shoot, this is my gym class. Now give me five laps around the track! I want to see the sweat pouring from your adolescent bodies. That’s the real proof that you’re getting a good workout!” After she had finished talking she brought the whistle that was dangling around her chubby neck up to her mouth and blew into it until everyone in the class had started their laps.
As I took off, I heard Brianna mumble, “How is she even a gym teacher?” At her statement, my eyes flickered to Ms. Botch's rotund gut protruding a few inches away from her body. I had to admit, I was wondering the same thing.
***
My stomach clenched again causing my body to jerk forward as I hurled into the trash can, gripping the edges of the can for support. I was never that strong a runner and after compl
eting just two laps I started complaining about stomach aches. Ms. Botch told me to suck it up and stop complaining a few times before finally allowing me to stand off to the side while everyone else continued running their laps.
Now she occasionally threw me sideways glances from where she stood on the track. I wasn't that focused on the faces she was giving me because at the moment the salty taste in my mouth was more important. My tongue was sweating, and the aching pain in my stomach helped to reduce the pain of my headache as I threw up into the metal waste bin.
I felt a gentle hand on my shoulder and I turned my head so that I could see the freshly manicured fingers that lie there. My eyes took in the perfectly sculpted nails and trailed up the muscular yet feminine arm until they landed on the face of a smiling redhead.
“Can I help you?” I questioned a little more rudely than I had intended.
“It looks to me like you need more help than I do,” she replied as she pulled her hand off of my shoulder and handed me a small stack of napkins with the other.
“I can take care of myself. I'm just not a huge fan of running.” Or any other physical activities for that matter.
“Whatever. Botch sent me over here to check on you, but since you can obviously take care of yourself, I can just go back to watching the boy’s gym class.” She shrugged her shoulders and was about to turn to leave before I spoke again.
“Wait. How come you aren't on the track running with everyone else?”
A smirk played on her lips as she began, saying, “I can’t run today,” she rubbed her stomach with her hands and feigned a pained face, “I’m having killer cramps.”
I squinted my eyes at her, but still nodded and held my hand out toward her, “Lucky you. I’m Violet Forrester.”
She glanced down at my hand for a moment before placing the napkins in it and speaking, “I’m Lena, and I don’t plan on telling you my last name. It’s ugly.”
I let my hand drop. “Sounds good to me. So what was it that you were saying earlier about watching the boy’s gym class?” I smirked and raised an eyebrow causing Lena to smile knowingly.
“Follow me, Forrester,” she commanded as she motioned for me to follow her with her hand. She swiveled her head around and said, “You might want to wipe your mouth first though,” before she turned forward again.
I wiped my mouth with the napkin she had given to me and made a mental note to rinse my mouth out as soon as possible.
Lena and I walked across the field side by side. We passed by Ms. Botch who was far too consumed in yelling at a few girls to notice the two of us. Lena led me to the end of the track and over to the football field where the boy’s gym class was doing sprints.
She sat down on an empty spot at the edge of the field and patted the damp grass next to her. “Take a seat, Forrester.”
I sat down next to Lena and winced as the wet grass soaked through my gym shorts. I scanned the field for Blake, but I didn’t see him amongst the other boys that were sprinting across the field. I found it quite odd that each boy had large smiles plastered onto their faces while almost every girl in my class was haggard. I would have spent a few more minutes pondering over the differences between the two gym classes, but Lena’s voice brought me out of my reverie.
“He’s kind of cute, huh?” I followed the direction that Lena’s finger was pointed in until my eyes landed on a familiar boy with dark hair falling into his eyes as he waited for his turn to sprint across the field.
I laughed, shrugging my shoulders nonchalantly. “That’s Blake Edwards.” Then, with a sideways glance in Lena’s direction, I added, “He’s all right.”
“All right?” Her expression contorted to mirror one of shock and disbelief. “That boy is more than all right, he’s fine.”
I shrugged in response. “If you say so,” I joked.
“I bet you five bucks I can get his number before class ends.”
“I’ll take that bet.” I laughed, causing Lena to throw me a sideways glance.
“You don’t think I can get his number, do you?” One eyebrow rose as she stared at me with a daring expression on her face.
I smiled and tried not to laugh, “I think he has a girlfriend though. He doesn’t seem like the type of guy to flirt with another girl while he’s dating someone else.”
With a thoughtful look on her face, Lena stared across the field at Blake while he sprinted from one end to another. “Nope,” she said popping the ‘p’. “He definitely looks like he’s the type to me,” she chirped in a sing-song voice.
I furrowed my eyebrows and gave her a dumbfounded look, “What makes you say that? He looks pretty faithful to me.”
Lena shook her head and smiled while tapping a finger to her temple. “I have boy intuition. I can tell exactly who a guy likes by the way he looks at her, and better yet, I can tell whether or not a guy is a good kisser by the way he smiles. Boy intuition runs in my family.”
I nodded, rolling my eyes at her words. She had to be kidding me with her supposed ‘boy intuition’ as she had called it. Suddenly, opening my mouth I called out across the field, “Blake! Blake!” Blake turned toward my voice, scanning the field before he spotted me and held his palms up toward the sky while a questioning face crossed his features. “Come here,” I mouthed while beckoning him over with my hand, not wanting to scream again and risk attracting attention from one of the teachers.
Blake shrugged and walked over to his teacher before turning and sprinting toward where Lena and I were seated on the grass. As he came, a goofy grin slipped onto my face.
Lena glanced at me with a horrified expression lining her features. “Why did you call him over here?” Her hands went to her face as she tried to fix her hair before Blake got to us.
“Don’t worry, Lena, Blake is very down to earth. He won’t care how you look.” I smiled sweetly and waved at Blake as he stopped in front of us.
Dropping to the ground beside me, Blake waved at Lena and smiled a friendly smile which she returned with a flirty wink causing Blake to look a bit taken aback.
“Blake, this is Lena,” I pointed at Lena and then back to Blake, “and Lena this is Blake.”
“Hey Blake,” Lena cooed, batting her eyelashes, and leaning forward in the grass.
Blake glanced at me with a confused look on his face, to which I shrugged nonchalantly, trying desperately not to allow the laughter to escape from my mouth.
Blake scooted closer to me and tossed his arm over my shoulder, “Hey, why aren’t you participating with your class?” he questioned, looking over my shoulder at the track where my classmates had transitioned into walking.
I was about to answer, but Lena beat me to it. “Forrester here got sick, and being the caring citizen that I am, I traded my precious exercising time to sit with her.”
I scoffed, “Yeah, because that’s definitely what happened.”
She shrugged. “It was something along those lines.”
Blake focused his eyes on me, furrowing his brows. “You got sick?”
“It was nothing, really.”
It was Lena’s turn to scoff. “Yeah, right. Tell that to the trash can.”
His blue eyes pierced into mine. He looked concerned, when really he had no reason to be. I was just out of shape; which wasn’t uncommon in America.
He sighed, “Okay, well just take it easy.” With that, he stood up, told Lena that it was nice to meet her, and went to rejoin his class.
I bit my lip as I watched him go, not even noticing that the whole time Lena was watching me with a small smile on her face. I gave her a questioning look and she just shrugged, smirking.
“My boy intuition says that Blake likes you.” She turned her head toward me and whispered, “He’s also a good kisser.”
I laughed, shaking my head at her words, “Maybe that ‘boy intuition’ of yours actually works.”
Chapter 3
Lena and I were surprised to find out that we had most of our classes together. We spent th
e rest of the school day finding classes, sitting next to each other, and getting to know each other more. Apparently Lena’s family had just moved to Virginia from California over the summer, and was just getting settled into their new house.
Like me, Lena also had a little sister, except hers was in the tenth grade and was also attending Bradbury High. Lena said that her sister, Gabriella, was said to look exactly like a miniature version of her, except she kept her hair straight and her eyes were brown. She also mentioned that Gabriella was one of those girls who strived to fit in with the “popular crowd” and often made friends with the wrong people. She talked for a little bit about how she was going to have to keep an eye on her throughout the year. Supposedly she had a huge incident happen at her last school and she wasn’t looking forward to it happening again.
Another thing that Lena and I had in common was that other than the occasional bonding with our sisters we felt as if no one in our households understood us. Lena didn’t go into too much detail about her family, but I didn’t expect her to considering how she had just met me. The most she said about her parents was that they used to be extremely strict, but now they weren't. I had noticed that she seemed slightly hesitant to talk about them so I switched the focus of the conversation from her parents to mine.
“I’m sure your parents aren’t nearly as bad as mine. My dad is a work-a-holic who is hardly ever home, and my mom has dedicated her life to annoying the hell out of me. I swear she sits around all day making lists of new ways she can get on my nerves.” I sighed deeply. “Don’t even get me started on the list of things that I’m not allowed to eat.”
Crush: A YA Romance Collection Page 26