mother’s footsteps and at least staying here helps pass the time. Eighteen isn’t too far off.
“Fuck it,” I mumble and go to push through the door, but it bursts open before I can, and three guys strut out ... three girls following close behind.
The guys don’t see me as I shifted to the side to avoid being hit by the metal door, but when the girls shuffle out, one of them makes it a point to bump me and she really shouldn’t have done that.
I guess right off the bat is the best time to show her I’m not the one.
After she shoulder checks me, I spin and dart forward, grabbing a good full grip of hair in my hand. I go to pull her back, but the moment I do, a large hand wraps around my wrist.
“Now now,” a deep, teasing voice warns and my glare snaps over my shoulder to find a brown-haired guy who’s about to catch an elbow to the jaw. “No need to act out. We make time for all those ready and willing.”
“Get your hand off me unless you’re ready and willing to get kicked in the dick.”
“Ooh, sounds like a good time.” He steps closer. “Now, let go, and show me what else that grip could do.”
I tighten my fist and the girl cries out more.
The guy’s smirk deepens, and before I can maneuver away, his hand is gripping my ass. “You wanna come? I can pull your hair too...” he whispers.
My body grows stiff against his and he barks out a mocking laugh as he lazily steps back.
My hand falls from the girl’s hair and she grunts before storming back into the school. Probably to fix herself up, superficial as shit.
“Not as hard as you want to be, are you the new girl?” the guy speaks, a hard edge to his tone as he falls in line with his boys, forming a tight arrow.
But he’s not the one in the center.
I offer a shitty smile when really I want to ram a pipe down his throat. “Guess not.”
“Don’t worry, baby, you’re forgiven. I’ve got it on good word she’s got no gag reflex.”
I nod lightly. “So she was perfect for you then?”
The guy tips his chin at my snide tone, but his friends make no move.
They’re wearing sunglasses, so when I do glance from one to the next – purposefully avoiding looking them over any further – I can’t read the look in their eyes, something I’ve taught myself to do when it comes to the male species.
I stand there until one of them, the tallest of the three, turns and heads for the parking lot, noting the asshole who put his hands on me is the one to get behind the wheel of a big ass, black, chromed-out SUV, not unlike the other flashy cars in the parking lot but by far the most alluring. There’s something to be said about a sleek SUV with blackout windows. It demands your attention – likely why this dumbass drives it.
In my neighborhood, though, such a ride tells you where to score or which way to run in – always the opposite direction is the answer. Unless you’re my mother, of course. To her and her friends it’s looking a lion in the eyes hoping it takes the bait – the fancier the ride, the bigger the payout.
I shake off the thought but catalog the vehicle in my mind.
Lifting my backpack over one shoulder, I prepare to step through the door for the first time, glancing up at the cement sign above before I do.
Welcome to Brayshaw High.
The school officials didn’t allow me into my normal classes today, making me sit through some mandatory behavior and ‘how to avoid confrontation’ videos instead. They even arranged for a cafeteria plate to be brought in – guess they read my file, too. I did, however, manage to sneak off for a couple minutes, pretending to be using the bathroom when really I had to make a point.
The second the bell rings, summing up an uneventful day one, I’m out the door and soon the building. I continue past the groups beginning to form outside the school and make my way toward the Bray house, but before I can hook left, loud grunts and gasps fill the air.
I can’t help myself and glance over my shoulder.
The assholes from this morning stare at the SUV while others whisper beside them, wide eyes and all.