Ruthless Rose: A High School Bad Boy Romance (Rosehaven Academy Book 3)
Page 6
I’ve got about fifteen minutes before the student body starts to arrive for the day. Skidding to a stop outside the boys locker room, I take a deep breath. There shouldn’t be anyone in there at this time of day—not on a game day, anyway.
Still … my nerves jangle as I creep through the doorway, looking down the hallway where the male PE teachers have offices and one of the athletic trainers has a small exam room. With the coast clear, I hustle through the next door to the locker room itself. It’s identical to the girls locker room, from what I remember of the tour that I went on last year—not that I’ve had a reason to be near the gym since. Not until now.
It’s pretty typical, though. Rows of lockers, benches, and a long hallway with shower stalls and a counter with a mirror above it. Hastily, I glance at my phone, checking for Micah’s locker number, and once I locate it, I set my bag on the bench, unzip it, and pull out the sign. I have it up in a flash and hightail it out of there. My heart is pounding hard, which is ridiculous. It’s not like I was on some secret mission or something. If someone sees me, they see me.
Later, I’m picking at my lunch when Scarlett slides onto the seat next to me with her favorite of our school’s lunchtime offerings—lasagna.
“Hey. I figured you’d be sitting with Xander. You know, game day and all.”
“Don’t be silly. I know you aren’t exactly comfortable sitting over there with that crowd, and Xander knows better than to think I’d just leave my friends behind for some silly football crap. I told him I wanted to sit over here with you guys today. He’s fine with it. He knows I love him and would do pretty much anything else he asked of me.” She winks at me and shovels a forkful of lasagna into her mouth.
A knot forms in my throat. I can’t believe Scarlett has only been here seven weeks and already has a steady boyfriend. It’s not that she doesn’t deserve it, because she does after all she’s been through. She and Xander are so damn sweet together. They are, without a doubt, the school’s new power couple. I just wonder sometimes—okay, more than just sometimes—when it’ll be my turn. If it’ll ever be my turn.
“Micah’s in a mood anyway, and it’s affecting the whole group over there. I don’t know what’s up with it. He’s all grumbly and pissed off. You’d think our cookies would have sweetened him up, but nope.”
More grumbly than usual? My attention is piqued. I wonder if he’s still upset about that phone call yesterday. It’s not my business, no matter how badly I’d felt for him, but I can’t help but think maybe that’s it. I wonder who isn’t coming today to watch the game. Who does he want there that’s letting him down?
Scarlett nudges my arm. “How’d Operation Spirit Girl go this morning?”
“Fine.” I poke at my salad. “I haven’t told Max about it yet—or the homecoming committee thing—and I’d appreciate keeping it on the down low.”
“So you said last night.” Scarlett frowns at me. “I wouldn’t betray your trust, Daphne.”
I sigh. “I know. In my head, I know that. It’s all just a lot to deal with right now.”
“Is there a specific reason you aren’t telling Max?”
I immediately shrug, not knowing how to answer. It’s dumb, but I’m embarrassed.
“What’s a lot to deal with?” Max sets his tray down opposite us and takes a seat. “And what aren’t we telling me?” He raises an eyebrow, obviously not happy that he’s been left out of something.
Scarlett side-eyes me and presses her lips together.
Shit. “I had to pick out a few activities to add to my schedule so we can put them on my college applications,” I mumble, hoping he’ll drop it.
But it’s Max and he won’t let this go, especially when I’m having trouble looking him in the eye. Exasperated, he looks from me to Scarlett before asking, “What the fuck is going on?”
She holds her hands up, palms out. “This isn’t my thing. In fact, I’m pleased to pass the what-the-hell-is-going-on torch to Daphne.”
I glance up at Max’s concerned face and straight back down to my lettuce. “I’m now on the spirit squad and homecoming committee.”
He frowns, pointing his fork at me. “You don’t even like school dances.”
“Yeah, well, that doesn’t seem to matter. At least there are just a couple of meetings and the decorating, and then I’ll be done with it.”
He shakes his head, half-laughing, and I don’t miss Scarlett delivering a swift kick to his shin under the table. A grimace on his face, he leans down to rub his leg and eyes me carefully. “Wait, whose personal little cheerbunny do you get to be?”
I fork a whole bunch of lettuce into my mouth, chewing slowly as his eyes probe mine.
“No. Seriously?”
Scarlett clears her throat. “It’ll be fine. He doesn’t even know it’s her yet.”
“I can’t believe you agreed to do it.”
“My college career is on the line. I have to get a scholarship, and I don’t have that many options with so little time left before applications are due, so …”
His hands clench where they rest on the table. “But why should you have to deal with someone who makes you uncomfortable?”
Scarlett holds up a finger. “I still want to know why he freaks you out so badly. I still don’t get that.”
“It’s stupid, okay? I just find him intimidating. He’s huge and rough around the edges and full of himself … just like all of the other football-playing jerks.”
“Oh, Daphne … they aren’t all like that.” Max shrugs. “Don’t get me wrong, some definitely are.” He clears his throat, then smiles at me, and I can tell he’s about to attempt adding some comic relief to the conversation. “Personally, I love the alpha male jerks. Sounds fucking fantastic to me. Maybe I should join the spirit squad.”
My eyes roll up to the ceiling. “You would say that.”
“What can I say? I like all the football players.”
Scarlett snorts. “And wrestlers. And baseball players. And basketball players … but wait, we’re getting off track here.” Scarlett’s voice is hushed as she continues. “Micah can actually be really sweet.”
“He’s not anything remotely like sweet to me.” My brows draw together. If she only knew how often Micah has cornered me, maybe she wouldn’t be so quick to defend him. “And he isn’t good at maintaining personal distance or keeping his hands to himself either,” I mutter.
“Sorry, what?” Max’s gaze narrows on me and he sets his fork down with a clatter.
Slapping my hand over my mouth, I look between my two friends. “Did I say that last bit out loud?”
Max growls, “The fuck, Daphne? What are you hiding?”
“He’s just—”
“Just what?” he bites out.
Scarlett’s swiveled in her seat so she’s staring right at me, her back ramrod straight.
“I think he enjoys messing with me. He’s figured out I’m not going to let the tutoring thing go, and his coach is riding his ass about it, so he’s trying his best to intimidate me in any way he can. But I can’t bail because the stupid applications are due soon.” I look down at my hands. At least I think that’s what’s happening.
Max pushes his tray away from him. “That’s fucked up.”
“It’s a classic dick move, is what it is.” Scarlett crosses her arms over her chest. “Wait, did you say he’s not keeping his hands to himself?” Her brows draw sharply together.
“I—”
“I won’t let him fucking mess with you just for fun, Daphne. Are you uncomfortable spending time with him? We can tell someone.” Max works his jaw back and forth as he stares into my eyes. He is getting so worked up he looks like the top of his head is about to pop off.
Scarlett is also fuming. “Or junk-punch him if he misbehaves. He’s a big guy, but that just means he’ll have farther to fall when I let him have it. You should have said something.”
I give a swift jerk of my head. “I can handle him. I’m fine.”
Max’s gaze is off across the cafeteria. He’s eyeballing the football team and everyone else at that table. “Speaking of the big man himself, is it me, or is Alora extra clingy with him today?”
I glance over my shoulder. Sure enough, she’s planted herself on Micah’s thigh and is playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. Yuck. Definitely nothing I need to watch if I intend to hold down my lunch.
Chapter 14
A while later, I grab my bag, pick up my lunch tray, and check to make sure I have my phone. Before I can push my seat back, a hand clamps down on my shoulder. “Daphne Davis. How’s it going, Double D?”
I turn my head to see Alora standing behind me, several cheerleaders flanking her. Farrah Kendrick, Danica Seeger, Cindi Traverse, and Melanie Underwood snicker, covering their mouths.
I cringe, shrug out of her grip, and toss my response over my shoulder. “Real creative—my initials.”
Laughter bubbles from Alora’s mouth. “Right, right. Going to the game tonight? Your favorite football player is starting, as usual.”
“No, I probably won’t, but thanks.”
Scarlett turns in her seat, glaring. “Alora, is there a reason why you’re bothering her? Where’s your captain? Isn’t Aria supposed to have you on a leash or something?”
“Funny.” She shrugs, taking a second to look at her carefully manicured nails, focusing her attention back on me. “It was interesting to hear all about how things went yesterday afternoon with your tutoring session.” She smiles smugly. “Micah told me you’re a complete fucking geek. Something about how you tried to talk to him about all sorts of weird sci-fi shit.”
I blink, my lips parting in dismay. And here I thought there was a possibility that I had found common ground with him, even if he’d had his hand up my skirt while I’d spewed verbal Star Wars diarrhea. I’d been proud of myself for finding conversation topics that I thought might halfway interest him. Apparently, I’d been mistaken. My heart sinks like a rock, and I bite down on my lip, staring at the food tray in front of me.
Max bolts to a standing position, his chair shooting out behind him with a loud scraping noise across the floor. “Alora, fuck off.”
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me.”
The longer she stands here taunting me, the more my skin crawls with distaste. Against my better judgment, I sneak a peek in Micah’s direction only to have my stomach twist. He’s watching this whole exchange—watching these bitches pick on me like it’s their job or their right or their reason for existing. And while Xander and Beau have just stood up and are watching our table, Micah stays planted in his chair like he couldn’t care less. He’s definitely not the person I thought he was. Not anymore.
Alora laughs as she and the other cheer bitches act like they’ve lost interest. “See you at the committee meeting tomorrow at ten,” she throws airily over her shoulder at me as she saunters away.
“That whole thing definitely had something to do with Micah,” groans Max as he drops back into his seat.
“You think he told her to do that?” Scarlett looks like she’s about to jump out of her seat and go pound on him.
“Uh-uh. That was jealousy driven, pure and simple. Makes me wonder what he’s actually said to her about you, Daphne, and how much is just shit she’s making up.”
I lift my shoulders, then drop them, dejected. “It doesn’t matter. I’ll deal with it.”
I’ve just curled up with a new release from one of my favorite urban fantasy authors when my phone buzzes beside me on the bed. It’s about eight, so I know the football game has started—the beginning of another insane evening, no doubt. The game and party to follow are exactly the kinds of gatherings I avoid at all costs.
Max: Hey, Daphne.
Max: You sure you don’t want to join us?
Scarlett: We’re just hanging out by the fence at the end zone nearest the building so I can watch Xander play.
Me: I’m really fine at home.
Me: I’m reading.
Max: But you have all weekend to read.
Me: LOL and that’s exactly what I intend to do.
Scarlett: Funny girl.
Scarlett: Well, this is probably going to be a flop of a suggestion, but do you want to meet us at the party later?
Me: Whose house?
Almost a minute passes before the dots start to jump with a message. I have an odd feeling that Scarlett and Max have been discussing what to say to me offline.
Max: It’s at Micah’s.
Me: Yep. Could have called that one.
Me: No, thanks.
Scarlett: His parents aren’t home.
Yep, that makes sense if that’s who he was talking to on the phone. Absentee parents at their finest, I guess. I wonder how many games they’ve missed this year. Or maybe the easier question to ask is how many they’ve made an appearance at.
Scarlett: Xander and I just people watch mostly.
Scarlett: It’s not even about the game or the party, really.
Max: Right. It’s just hanging out with us.
Scarlett: Besides, I need someone to babysit Max. He’s always wandering off.
Max: Hush, woman. D, it’d be more fun with you there.
With a huff and what must be an odd wish to inflict self-torture, I open up my Instagram app. My eyes narrow on the screen as I pull up Micah’s account. Yep, there he is, surrounded by all the girls who were in on teasing me earlier today.
I chew on my lip as I gaze at the image way longer than necessary. But still, he’s so freaking hot, even with that arrogant smile. If I was more confident, I’d surprise him by kissing it right off of his sexy lips. My hand shaking, I press my fingers to my mouth and wonder what that would actually be like.
Probably embarrassing as hell, actually, as I’d have no idea what I was doing.
Me: Whatever. You’ve got Xander glued to you now. You don’t even need me.
Scarlett: But, see? That’s why Max needs you, Daph!
Scarlett: And I will ALWAYS need you.
Me: Maybe next time.
Max: Okay. But you’re missing out.
Scarlett: I’m holding you to it. Next time, you hear me?
I glance down again at the photo of Micah standing tall in his uniform, front and center in the sea of red-and-black cheer uniforms. Are my friends right? Am I missing out? What are you going to do here at home, Daphne? What will it be—read your book or watch one of the Star Wars movies for the trillionth time? No, wait, you’re probably watching the newest episode of The Mandalorian. You love the Child. He looks just like a baby Yoda.
I swear, I’m my own worst enemy. I can take potshots at myself just as well as Alora can.
My eyes blur with tears I refuse to let fall. Staring down at my hands, I try to distract myself, picking at my nails which are bare and cut short. True, it’s mostly because I can’t be bothered to grow them out, but it’s just another way I’m nothing like Alora or Farrah or any of the other girls with perfectly manicured nails who Micah hooks up with on a regular basis. Jealousy streaks through me, unbidden. I groan, rolling over on my bed, and bury my face in my pillow.
What would Micah think if I were to show up at his house tonight? He’d probably assume I was crazy. And then he and those cheer bitches would have a good laugh at my expense.
Looking down at myself, I tick off all the things that make me wholly unsuitable for someone like Micah. I don’t like parties. Or football. I don’t have curves like the girls he seems to gravitate toward. I like to read—like, a lot. I actually enjoy doing my homework and getting good grades. I wear Star Wars T-shirts to bed.
A guy like Micah wouldn’t look twice. Shouldn’t look twice.
Funny how I’ve gone from being used to him overlooking me and not seeing me at all—and being mostly fine with it—to being sad because I’m not what he wants, no matter how much he likes to toy with me.
I must be ten kinds of stupid.
Chapter 15
I leap out of bed, stubbing my toe along the way. Fuck, fuck, fuck! I hop up and down, grabbing at my foot as I search through my dresser for something to throw on.
Yanking out a T-shirt, panties, bra, and a pair of joggers, I clutch them to my chest and race for my bathroom. Inside, I pile my long hair on my head, as I have no time to wash and condition it right now. Never mind blowing it dry; that’d take forever.
I brush my teeth then take the fastest shower ever, dry off, and yank my clothing into place. After a cursory glance in the mirror, I shove my feet into my Vans and thunder down the stairs.
My mother must sense my urgency because her eyes widen. “What can I do?”
I shake my head. “I need to get to school. Homecoming committee meeting at ten. I,”—I press the heel of my hand to my temple—“I should have set an alarm.”
She frowns. “You never sleep in like this. Are you feeling okay?”
“Yes.” No. I’d spent a whole lot of sleepless hours wondering if I should have just gone to the damn football game, gone to the party, and lived a little for once. It’s totally not a me thing to do, but I’m— Ugh. I’m frustrated. I’m at a crossroads of sorts. I can feel it. I want things I didn’t know I ever would. A week ago, I was an entirely different person. I blow out a breath and grab a banana from the bowl in the middle of the kitchen table. “I should be home a little after eleven, I think.”
“Okay, sweetie. Don’t drive too fast. I’m sure they’ll wait for you.”