Some people keep their heads down, keeping to themselves, while others draw attention as though holding a sign reading, I give good head. The pecking order of this school is crystal clear. If you’re a jock, a cheerleader, the richest of the rich, or simply just blessed with undeniable beauty, then your opinion matters and people want to be around you. Anyone else is just a punching bag for the elite assholes.
Finding my locker, all too close to Mr. WankInFrontOfMyBedroomWindow who’s surrounded by a bunch of guys that look just as intimidating as he does, I figure out the lock and get busy jamming my things inside. I don’t have time to do all that girly decorating shit to my locker, and honestly, I don’t think I’ll be here long enough to even bother.
I don’t waste any more time grabbing my class schedule and flipping through the student handbook to find the map of the school, having only just enough time to figure out how to get to my first few classes before the bell for homeroom sounds. I grab what I need and make a move for it, knowing that today is going to be nothing but fresh hell topped with a splash of complete and utter bullshit.
Closing my locker, I take off down the hallway, following the map held tightly between my fingers. I only get a few steps before a large body steps in front of me, blocking my path. My head snaps up and I have only a second to stop myself before slamming headfirst into his wide chest.
Just when I thought I could get away with a peaceful morning. I should have known better.
King Jock stands before me, his lingering gaze locked on my face as his friends move in beside him, looking over me like a new toy they’re figuring out who gets to play with first. “Well, if it isn’t the little Killjoy from Saturday night.”
Unease settles heavily into the pit of my stomach, and I clench my jaw, doing what little I can to appear as though I’m not about to shit myself. “Is there something you need?”
Big guy smirks back at me, his dark eyes dancing with amusement. “Just wanted to give you the big Bradford welcome,” he says, moving in closer, his gaze getting darker and hotter all at the same time. He stands over me, the smell of his cologne wrapping around me and holding me hostage. His words are kind, but there’s a clear threat in his tone, reminding me that I’m nothing but the girl who threw down a challenge that I’m in no way, shape, or form prepared for. He takes a step closer, forcing me to back up, and I don’t miss how a crowd has begun to form around us, phones out recording every minute of my humiliation.
Not wanting to be an easy target, or someone he’ll freely be able to walk over, I stop backing up and hold my ground. “That’s so kind of you, but if you don’t stop intruding on my personal space, I’ll have no choice but to shove my foot so far up your ass that you feel it in your throat.”
He just stares at me, his gaze getting harder by the second. “You wanna talk personal space, Killjoy?” he questions, his eyes lighting once again. “Why don’t we talk about your little Peeping Tom routine. Looking into my room like that, you should be ashamed.”
My face flames as embarrassment takes over, but there’s no way he’s about to drop a bomb like that without a little bit of context for the masses of students swarming around us. “Ashamed? Not at all. I think embarrassed is the right word, embarrassed for you, that is. Though it’s okay, I’m sure you were only half-hard, right?” I reach up and give a pitying pat against his wide chest, hating how the touch of his warmth beneath my palm sends a bolt of electricity pulsing through my body. “It’s fine, not everyone can have a monster cock. The small guys have to get love too. But hey, if you want to fuck your own palm in the privacy of your bedroom, then that’s your business. Self-love and all that, it’s healthy, right? But I just ask that next time you get hard staring at me like a dirty perv, perhaps close your blinds before you start rubbing one out, okay? I mean, I appreciate your attempt to entertain me, but I wasn’t all that impressed.”
I give him the most condescending smile I can possibly manage and step around his bitch ass as his friends gawk. Every nerve in my body demands that I turn back just to get the smallest glimpse of the rage burning through his eyes, but I won’t dare give him the satisfaction of having my attention. So instead, I keep walking, hoping that was enough of a warning to get him to back off.
By the time I reach my homeroom, the students are already buzzing with gossip, whispers about Tanner Morgan shutting down the new girl, and I can only assume that Tanner is the one and only King Jock. But honestly, if they think that’s what shutting me down is, they’ve got another thing coming. Back home, something like that wouldn’t even be worthy of morning gossip, not unless a few fists got thrown in the process.
“Holy shit!” A chirpy, feminine voice calls across the classroom.
I follow the sound, my head snapping up to find a petite brunette who sends a cold rush swarming through my veins like a million little needles pricking at my skin. She stares straight back at me, and all I can think about is the way Colby’s cock looked buried deep inside her lady taco.
The need to bail sails through me, but she quickly stands and waves me over, a bright, genuine smile stretching across her face. I hesitantly make my way across the room, the other students watching me like a disease spreading throughout the school.
“You must be the new girl everyone’s talking about,” the girl says, propping her ass back onto the edge of the table as she waves me toward the empty space beside her. “How funny. Out of all the people who could have walked through that door, it just happened to be the girl who saw her boyfriend railin—”
“No! I don’t need the visual,” I say, holding my hands up as I reluctantly take the seat beside her, though unlike her, I actually drop my ass into the chair rather than propping myself against the table.
“Oh, right,” she laughs. “I’m Ilaria, by the way. I can’t remember if I introduced myself or not the other night. I was in a bit of an awkward position, and when that happens, I tend to ramble useless things that don’t matter.”
“Yep, I figured that much out,” I confirm, remembering the moment all too clearly while desperately wishing I couldn’t. “I’m Brielle.”
“I … yeah,” she says, biting her bottom lip and averting her eyes as shame flashes in her pretty features. “Listen, I tried to find you afterward, but judging by the way your boyfriend was running up the street, I kinda figured you bailed. I just … I want you to know that I’m not that girl. I don’t go out with the intention of finding some other girl’s man and stealing him from her. That’s not me. I know we don’t know each other and a promise from me is probably worth absolutely nothing, but I swear to you, I wasn’t aware he had a girlfriend. He told me he was at the party alone and that he was single. I never would have touched him otherwise.”
I give her a tight smile. Despite the honesty in her words and the shame in her tone, it still stings. I know she’s not to blame, this is all on Colby. She’s just as much a victim of his lies as I am, but I still want to hate her, and I’m sure that makes me an awful person, but every time her eyes meet mine over the desk, I picture them together and it sucks.
It makes me feel weak, used, and pathetic, and I’m so much better than that. This girl is better than that. Hell, I don’t even know her, but I know enough. She is kind and honest and probably the type of girl I should be trying to make friends with. Colby used her for her body, he played her just as he played me, but luckily for her, she didn’t spend six months trying to feel something for the guy.