by Hart, Rebel
“Fuck!” I roared.
Why the hell did I need so much mahogany furniture in my fucking bedroom?
Oh, yeah. Because my parents had more money than sense.
“Fucking bullshit,” I murmured.
I stripped my clothes off, leaving a trail from the foot of my bed all the way to the shower. I turned on the hot water and got in, allowing the burps to work their way up with ease. I refused to puke, though. And as I leaned my head against the tiles of the shower wall, I drew in a deep breath.
If I got to school right at lunch time, I could fill my stomach with enough bread to get me through the rest of the day.
“Or you could just not go,” I whispered.
Nope. The last time I missed a day of school like this, my parents actually flew back from their vacation, taking the time out of their busy recreational flight schedule to be decent parents for once. And it ended up with them selling off my fucking bike. I wasn’t losing another bike over this. That thing was my peace. My solace. It made me feel powerful and on top of the world.
Plus, it got me laid more times than I cared to count.
“Nope. Get your ass to school,” I murmured.
The summer had been great, but it was time to get back to reality. I cleaned myself up, slowly sobering as my vision cleared. I sighed as I got out of the shower, feeling the steam wrap around me. It was nice waking up in an empty house, kicking around streamers and empty beer cans and wiping red Dixie cups off my bathroom counter.
Yeah. It felt nice to always fucking be alone.
“If someone fucked in my bathroom, they’re never invited back,” I said, sighing.
Getting ready for school was a pain in my ass. But it had to happen. I didn’t give a damn, though. I’d show up for lunch break and find Roy. Screw chemistry and English class. I didn’t need any of that shit in my life. I had no plans to go to college. I had no plans to continue education past high school. Despite my parents constantly nagging the fuck out of me for it, I had other plans. Other wants. Other wishes. I wanted to work on bikes and write my fucking books. I wanted people to leave me the fuck alone so I could indulge the only two things on this planet I loved.
Motorcycles and writing.
“Fuck my parents,” I growled.
And as I reached for my toothbrush, I settled into my morning routine. A lonely routine I’d crafted over the years to deal with my parents never being around.
Hell, it wasn’t my fucking fault they wanted to enjoy their money rather than their son.
* * *
The revving of my motorcycle engine was my second favorite thing about my damn bike. The first being how it vibrated underneath my ass. I pulled into the backyard parking lot of the school, where all the juniors and seniors were allowed to park their shit. I found myself a spot in back, next to the woods where I knew no one would fuck with my shit. Not that they dared do it anyway. The last person to touch my bike without permission ended up with a broken nose and blood on their shirt.
So what if I got suspended for the rest of the month for it?
Don’t fucking touch my stuff.
I turned my bike off and put the kickstand down. And after sliding my helmet off, I hung it off the handlebars. No one had even come toward my bike since that incident last year, so I knew my shit was safe. I slipped my bike keys into the pocket of my jeans, then straightened out my leather coat. People stared at me. Those who ate lunch at their cars so they could listen to music followed me with their eyes. Girls giggled off in the distance, causing me to wink at them from beyond my sunglasses. I loved it when the girls swooned. There was no bigger turn-on to high school girls than a senior who rode a bike. I licked my lips as I walked by a gaggle of cheerleaders, their eyes sweeping over my body with lust.
I winked at the head cheerleader. By the end of the semester, I’d have her right where I wanted her.
On my lap, riding my cock, with my bike vibrating underneath her ass cheeks.
I pushed my way through the back doors of the school, making my way to the cafeteria. My eyes scanned the room as I slid off my sunglasses in search of Roy. My best bud. My closest friend. I mean, Roy was a fucking kiss-ass. He wanted nothing more than to be exactly like me. Which was outstanding, until he wore my same fucking outfits. I hated it when he did that shit. I couldn't stand it when we turned up in the same clothes. Thank God his parents had refused to let him get tattoes that matched mine. But he was a pushover. Someone to boss around and laugh at whenever he ended up doing the stupid shit I asked him to do.
Roy was good entertainment.
I spotted him from across the room.
“There’s the big guy!” Roy exclaimed.
I grinned as I started across the cafeteria, feeling teachers and vice principals alike stare me down. I walked with my shoulders rolled back and confidence in my step. They hated me because they wanted to be like me. Carefree, with enough friends and money to run circles around the town of Riverbend twelve times over. That was how Roy and I knew one another. Our parents constantly competed with their wealth and ran in many of the same circles. Hell, Roy already had his college years planned out by his father. One well-timed donation to any Ivy League school of Roy’s choosing, and he could coast through the damn place on his father’s dime.
I didn’t want anything from my parents, though.
I didn’t want any reason for them to keep meddling in my fucking life after I graduated.
Roy grinned. “I was wondering when the hell you’d show up.”
I sat down beside him and he passed me a tray of food. Pizza, two rolls, two massive cookies, and a soda.
I smiled. “Oh, hell yeah. Pizza day’s the best around here.”
“Figured you’d need it after keg-standing through half the damn party last night.”
I snickered. “How much of it did I get down?”
“Looked to be about seven beers’ worth, I’d say,” Roy said.
“Eh, looks more like six to me.”
“I thought it was ten.”
“It was a smaller keg. Pretty sure he fucking chugged half of it.”
Roy chuckled. “Either way, you were sloshed. And it was incredible. That sloppy makeout session with Honkers? Priceless.”
I paused. “You mean the new head cheerleader?”
He raised his eyebrows. “Who the fuck else is Honkers? You seen the tits on that girl?”
I grinned to myself before I took a bite of my pizza. So that’s why she had her eyes on me coming into the school. Already trying to claim something that wasn’t hers.
That’ll make fucking her easier.
I nodded. “Speaking of honkers, here comes your girl.”
Marina walked up, all smiles. “Hey, guys. Clint. And hi there, handsome.”
Roy scoffed. “The fuck am I last for? You got the hots for my friend over here?”
She giggled. “Never. But rumor has it our new lead cheerleader does.”
“You better lock that shit down, Clint.”
“Trust me, I have plans.”
Roy swiveled himself around and she flopped right down into his lap. I grinned as he ground up into her, making all the teachers shake their heads at him. He didn’t give a shit, though. Just like me. And as I wolfed down my slice of pizza, I snuck his off his tray while he sucked face with his current piece of ass.
Who had nothing to eat but a banana for lunch.
Girl’s got an eating problem.
It sure as hell didn’t affect her tits, though. Because Roy was definitely a tit kinda guy.
Not my thing, but whatever. Tits were just tits. Nothing special about them. Now, an ass on the other hand? Fucking hell. It was clear these guys hadn’t gone near a decent one yet in their lives. Because if they had? They wouldn't give a second fucking thought to tits on a girl.
Ever.
Marina took a small bite of her banana. “So how was your summer, Roy? I didn't see as much of you as I’d like.”
Roy smiled. “
You saw plenty of me last night.”
“Roy.”
“What? Did you not like it? Because I can certainly give it another shot if you didn’t.”
She giggled. “You’re something else, you know that?”
I swallowed hard. “Did he fuck you well enough?”
Roy grimaced. “The fuck, dude? I don’t go around asking if you fucked your girls well enough.”
Marina laughed. “You know damn good and well he did.”
Roy paused. “Hey, now. I don’t like dirty mouths on my women. Tone the language down, or you’re gonna have problems.”
“Sorry, handsome.”
She kissed Roy’s cheek and I rolled my eyes. I didn’t get the point of having a girlfriend. I mean, why the hell would I only want to fuck one girl at a time? Sounded boring to me. Marina started gabbing Roy’s ear off about shit I didn’t care about, which caused me to practically inhale my lunch. Anything to get away from her tinny voice and her boisterous giggle. Roy needed to bring less annoying girlfriends around if they wanted to sit with us at lunch. Because I couldn't handle that shit one bit.
Then Marina snickered. “Speaking of losers.”
Roy laughed. “Holy fuck. Look who it is.”
“Is that Rae?”
“Holy shit, she filled out over the summer.”
“The fuck’s she wearing, though?”
Marina rolled her eyes. “Why can’t someone teach that poor girl some decent fashion sense?”
I cracked open my soda and swiveled around in my chair. And when my eyes fell onto her, I grinned. Rae Cleaver. Loser extraordinaire. Came from the wrong side of the tracks, and her clothes boasted of it every single fucking day. She was the pet project of the school. Well, one of them. For some reason, the county felt the need to draw redistricting lines among the suburbs in order to get some of the city scum into better schools. And the only reason I knew that was because my parents rallied hard not to let that happen. I mean, why the fuck did our education have to be ruined simply because we had money and they didn’t?
Sucked to be them, but life wasn’t always fair.
Even I knew that much.
Marina sighed. “She looks pathetic. Can someone go over there and tell her brown doesn’t go with black like that?”
Roy slapped her ass. “Why don’t you do the honors, sexy?”
Marina yelped, then playfully swatted Roy’s shoulder. Yet another gesture that made my eyes roll before they went back to sucking on one another’s faces. I didn’t know how the hell they breathed through all that. Or how he tolerated that girl’s wide-ass tongue filling up his face.
To each their own, I guess.
And as I picked up my tray to carry over to the trash can, Rae brushed through my peripheral. I turned my head, watching her a little too long as she sat off in the corner. She was sitting there, waiting for those two dinky little friends of hers. The preppy, uptight bitch and the boy who probably sucked dick with his butthole. She had a pathetic excuse for a lunch, too. Soup and a bottled water. What the fuck was up with these girls and not eating? Did they think that shit was attractive? Because if Rae thought that was her selling point, then she obviously didn’t understand the appeal of decent clothes. I mean, with her dirty black shirt and her faded brown pants, she looked like something out of a horror novel. Surrounded by us, she looked completely out of her league. Tease her hair out and she’d look like actual white trash. Like someone from an actual horror film. Like that creature underneath a child’s bed that only came out to play if the child’s foot slipped over the edge.
Looks like I found my fun for the semester.
Then again, Rae Cleaver was always entertaining. Especially because she didn’t take jokes very well.
3
Raelynn
I sighed as I sat down at the corner table where we always sat. The first couple days of school were always stupidly long and boring. We went over the syllabus for every class the first day, then the second day was used to recap things we learned last year. They were the only two days of school where I never felt bad for zoning out. Where I never worried about falling asleep or missing something the teacher was saying.
“Only three more periods to go,” I murmured.
I looked down at my lunch and sighed. It was all I could afford until I got paid this weekend by the grocery store. Soup and a bottled water. Even though I was fucking starving. I slipped the top off the soup and picked up my spoon. Thankfully, it came with a mound of crackers. I crunched them up and poured them over the top of the soup, making the liquid mess a little more solid. It didn’t look appealing to the eye, but it sure as hell would feel good once it got to my stomach.
I saw something move in my peripheral and was relieved to have my friends show up.
It wasn’t until I looked over, however, that I saw it wasn’t them at all.
“You know, we really should have coordinated our schedules more so we could’ve…”
I traced my eyes up those faded jeans. Up that worn leather jacket. The figure plopped down into the seat next to me, where Allison usually sat. I wrinkled my nose as his face came into view. Clinton Clarke. The high school asshole and overall ‘pump and dump’ station.
The boy was a regular manwhore, and he owned every bit of it.
Barf.
Clint grinned. “We really should have coordinated our schedules. I’m gonna miss having you in English.”
I wrinkled my nose. “What do you want?”
I put my spoon down, refusing to eat in front of him. I watched his eyes follow my movements, and something crossed his face. Disgust? Confusion? Neither of those would’ve shocked me. If Clint wasn’t absolutely freaked out by the way I ran my life on a daily basis, my general presence was probably confusing to him. I mean, really? A girl that didn’t want to jump his bones at the drop of a hat?
It probably confused the hell out of him.
And the thought made me giggle.
“Got something you wanna share with the class?” he asked.
I shrugged. “Nope.”
“You got another outfit you can change into so you don’t keep hurting my eyes?”
I grinned. “Don’t like it? Don’t look.”
“Kinda hard not to look.”
“Is that a crack at my weight? Or a crack at the fact that you secretly think I’m sexy and don’t want to admit it?”
He snickered. “You wish I saw you that way.”
“Trust me, you’re not my type.”
His eyebrows rose. “Oh? And what is your type? The monster in the closet?”
“I feel like that’s a joke that probably requires some explanation. And ever since I had English with you last year, we both know you’re not the best at those.”
His face fell. “Fuck you.”
I sighed. “What do you want, Clint?”
I heard high-pitched laughter come from across the cafeteria and rolled my eyes. Marina Lancaster’s laughter was the loudest, most piercing thing I’d ever heard. It was the most recognizable laugh, too. I saw Clint’s eye flinch, but then a grin appeared on his face. I didn’t like that grin, either. It made me shift in my seat, uncomfortable in his presence. That was the grin of Satan himself. Who had a plan to do something to destroy me in front of a cafeteria full of people.
Where the fuck are Allison and Michael?
“I just wanted to say hi,” Clint said.
I licked my lips. “Yeah. Right.”
He feigned shock. “What? Do you really not believe me, Miss Cleaver?”
“Not a fucking chance.”
“You really should watch that little mouth of yours. Boys don’t like women with dirty words in their vocabulary.”
“I’m just shocked you know the word ‘vocabulary.’”
Clint’s eyes boiled with anger. “Unlike some fat-ass idiots in this school, I don’t have to pay attention in class to pass mine.”
“No. You just need Mommy and Daddy’s money to help you do that.
”
He leaned his forearm against the table. “How’s your mom doing, Rae? I heard she had quite a time this past weekend.”
I rolled my eyes. “Clever, Clinton. A mom joke. We’re all impressed. Such original material.”
He narrowed his eyes. “It’s Clint.”
I started slow-clapping, which caused Marina to laugh even harder. And while her laugh was the most annoying thing on the face of this planet, it only served to piss Clint off more. Which was a marvelous sight.
I stopped clapping. “I don’t care what you want to be called. If you’re going to come over here and harass me with your idiotic tactics, at least be prepared to take your own damn medication, asshole.”
Clint snarled. “At least my mother’s not a filthy cum-dumpster like yours is.”
“Nope. She’s just an absent, rich, tottie little woman who’s addicted to painkillers and plastic surgery. Which would be the reason why your father left her, right? Traded her in for a newer model. Also known as your stepmother?”
“At least she wants to look decent for my father. You don’t even want to look decent for yourself. What, you hate yourself that much? Or do you just hate the attention you know I’d love to pay you if you wore decent clothes?”
I scoffed. “I’d never give a second thought to the likes of you.”
He grinned. “Why? Scared I’d make you a sexaholic, like your mother?”
“No. I’d only be scared of the multiple STDs you’d pass on, seeing as you’re nothing but a useless manwhore.”
“The last thing I am is useless, sweet cheeks. You just don’t like admitting that because it means I might just be better than you. When really, this entire school is better than you.”
“Why? Because most everyone in this school has more money than me? Why don’t you harp on something you haven’t already beaten and shot out back?”
