Fighting to swallow the chocolate in my mouth, my eyes widen to the point I think they might pop out. “Please tell me you’re joking. He hates me, and I must say, the feeling’s kinda mutual.”
“So something has happened?”
Shit. Every time I’ve seen her after the incident at Aces she’s questioned me. It was obvious that something happened in the few minutes she was gone but I still refuse to relay the events of those couple of horrible moments.
“No. Can we please not talk about him? He doesn’t deserve our time or attention.”
“I couldn’t agree more.” She puts her mug down and jumps from the bed. “Let’s find you something to wear. I’ve been dying to get in your wardrobe.” I watch as she pulls the doors open, and a smile splits her face. “OMG it’s even more than I imagined.”
“You can borrow anything. If it fits,” I add because our body shapes are very different. While I’ve got my mother’s supermodel body, Camila is a super sexy hourglass and a whole head shorter than me.
“You serious?” She turns to me, a smile almost splitting her face in two.
“Sure.” I’m not stupid, I know the cost of what she’s looking at is beyond most people’s imagination but to me, they’re just clothes. I was never that fascinated by the designer labels who used to give my mum free clothes just so she could be photographed in them. I always knew we had money, more than most, but it wasn’t until I moved here that the differences became more noticeable.
There’s plenty of money in this town, mostly on the east side but it’s nothing compared to the people Mum and Dad used to spend time with. Money means nothing to me, I’d much rather have my family than anything in the bank, but that decision was taken from me. It’s one of the reasons why anger fills my veins every time I see someone look at what I’m wearing with jealousy oozing from their eyes. Clothes and designer labels aren’t anything to be jealous of, they come and go and mean nothing, family though, parents...you only get one lot of those and I’d give anything to have mine back.
Movement at the other side of my room drags me from my morose thoughts and I sit back and watch as Camila pulls out item after item from my collection while making all kinds of ohhs and ahhs. That is until she stops, pulls something out and then turns to me.
“You have to wear this tonight.”
“We’re going to a football game, Cam, not a club.”
Her shoulders shrug. “So? You want to look hot, don’t you?”
Not really. “I just want to blend into the crowd. Jeans and a t-shirt will be just fine.”
She rolls her eyes but instead of arguing like I was expecting, her shoulders drop in disappointment. “I guess it doesn’t really matter what you wear, you’ll still look stunning.” She drops the silver sequined dress she was holding up. It’s the one my mum bought me to celebrate finishing sixth form, but I never got to wear it. I probably never will either now, but there’s no way I could ever get rid of it. It was the last thing she chose for me on the last day out I ever spent with her.
“What are you talking about? You’re stunning, I’d love to have your curves.” I push down the emotions that dress dregs up and walk over to my wardrobe. “What about something like this?” I ask, pulling out a playsuit that would really show off her full cleavage and shapely legs. “I guarantee it’ll make Noah’s eyes pop out of his head.”
“You think?”
“I do. Try it on.”
“Okay. And you can totally wear whatever you want but—” I groan. “I’m doing your makeup.”
“Deal.”
An hour later and Camila is standing in my playsuit looking like a knockout while I’ve got on a black pair of jeans, trainers, and my favorite t-shirt. It’s white with ‘with pleasure’ in a bubble font across the front. Camila has done an excellent job of my simple makeup and adding some loose curls into my blonde hair.
“Shane’s gonna blow his load when he looks at you.”
“Cam, please don’t.”
“What? I’m just saying that you’re rocking that look. You’re gonna turn heads tonight.”
“I don’t want to turn heads. I just want to blend.”
“I know you do, but trust me when I say that you’ll never blend into a crowd.” A sigh passes my lips but I don’t say anymore. “Are you packed for tonight?”
“Packed?”
“Yeah, for the midnight dash party.”
“If it’s just a party, why do I need to pack?”
“Oh, Amalie.” She pulls out a Louis Vuitton bag from the top of my wardrobe. “It’s not just a party. The Midnight Dash is a long-held tradition, a rite of passage, type thing. It’s an all-night party at the end of the beach. It’s a night where you can let go, blow off steam and act crazy before the seriousness of senior year really begins. Plus, what happens at the Midnight Dash stays at the Midnight Dash.” Her eyebrows wiggle in excitement and my stomach drops.
“I’m not a senior.”
“Maybe not, but you’re coming as my special guest. We’re gonna get drunk, dance and enjoy ourselves. Now hurry because the pep rally is gonna start soon and we don’t want to be late.”
She stands with her hands on her hips and an impatient look on her face as I stand from the bed.
“What do I need to pack?” I ask on a sigh.
“Normal camping shit.”
“What does that entail?”
“You’ve never been camping?” She looks at me but doesn’t give me time to answer. “I don’t know why I’m even asking that, of course you haven’t been camping!”
“What? I’m not some stuck up rich kid. I can camp.”
“We’ll find out tonight. Change of clothes, bikini, and a pillow should do it.” Turning from her amused face, I start shoving stuff in my bag, “Oh don’t forget wet wipes, they are essential. And condoms if you have any.”
“What? I do not need—”
“Oh shhh... it’s Midnight Dash, anything could happen...and it probably will.”
Dread twists my stomach at the excitement in her eyes. “If tonight’s going to basically be one big orgy, please tell me now so I can stay home.”
“Now you’re just being silly. Come on.” She zips up my bag for me, threads her fingers through mine and pulls me from the room.
“You two look beautiful. All ready for your big night?”
“I am,” Camila answers proudly before turning toward me. “This one’s a little more skeptical.”
“You’ll be fine once you’re there. Here, I got you this,” Gran says pulling open a cupboard and revealing a bottle of vodka. “Now, I trust you both to be sensible with it, I do not want a phone call from anyone to come and rescue your drunk butts from the beach. But I want you both to have fun, you,” her eyes find mine. “Deserve it.”
I thank her, give her a kiss on the cheek and the two of us make our way to the car. Camila bounces with excitement while I desperately try to drum up some enthusiasm for anything but making a start on the bottle of vodka in my hand.
11
Jake
The roar of the crowd as they celebrate our win with us vibrates through me. This is it. This moment is what I live for. Being part of something so huge that my bullshit life no longer matters. No one cares where I came from, how I live or about the anger that resonates inside. All anyone cares about in this moment is that I’m their king. I’m the reason they have something to celebrate. Every single football fan wants to be me right now and every single female set of eyes on me wants a piece. I fucking love it.
“You were on fucking fire tonight,” Mason says slapping his hand down on my shoulder. He’s not wrong. Everything about tonight just fell into place. All our well practiced plays were executed with the exact precision Coach expects and we ran rings around our opponents. For the first time ever, the guy’s words about this year being our year start to sound a little more possible. This might only be the first game of the season, but it’s a fucking good start.
“I need a motherfucking
drink and a nice piece of ass. Who’s with me?” Ethan shouts into the locker room and there are calls of agreement and hollers of excitement. We’ve all been looking forward to tonight since we were old enough to understand what a party was. The senior year dash pretty much sums up how your final year of high school’s going to go. Don’t attend, or even worse, not allowed to attend and you’re basically an outcast. Turn up and kinda participate and you’re accepted but turn up and do exactly what’s expected of you and you’re set for the year. Tonight’s about proving yourself, proving you have what it takes to be a senior at Rosewood high. It’s tradition and at fucking last, it’s our turn.
“Get that junk good and clean, boys. The girls are gonna be fucking lining up for us when we arrive. But choose wisely my friends, choose very wisely.” Laughing at Ethan’s antics, I head for the shower and do exactly as he just suggested because I don’t intend on spending tonight without getting my cock sucked at least once.
As planned, we’re the last ones to the beach. The smoke from the bonfire bellows up, pointing us in the right direction, not that we didn’t know where we were going. The second I push Mason’s passenger door open the music from below fills my ears and my heart picks up pace. I’m so fucking ready for this. My first week of senior year has been... fucked up to say the least. The new girl’s arrival stirred an anger within me that I thought I’d managed to rid myself of but it’s back with a vengeance, taunting me, pushing me forward. I’ve stayed out of her way the past few days, but that doesn’t mean I’m not watching her. I see her getting closer to Shane and the way he looks at her like she’s something fucking special. I see her walking around like she’s got all the world’s fucking problems on her shoulders. Well guess what, princess? The rest of us have our own shit to deal with and in order to release some of what I’m carrying I’m about to make your life even worse.
“Let’s do this shit.” Pulling coolers from the trunk, I follow both Mason and Ethan down to the beach.
A cheer starts up the second we appear, and my chest swells with fucking pride. Most of the cheer squad immediately jump up and our teammates who got here first come running at us. Chelsea makes a beeline for me but unlike I have the rest of the week, I welcome her excitement.
Her hand goes straight for my cock, rubbing it through the fabric of my jeans like the desperate slut that she is. “You’re getting lucky tonight.” Her high-pitched breathy moan does little for me, but I can’t deny that her stroking isn’t feeling good right now.
Running her other hand up my chest, she sneaks it around the back of my neck and reaches up on her toes, it’s like she thinks I’m going to kiss her. She should know better than that by now. I don’t kiss. Ever.
Just as her lips move toward mine and I’m about to shove her away, a flash of blonde catches my eyes. She fucking wouldn’t. Would she?
At the sight of her, my body freezes, fury erupts in my stomach as my veins will with fire. Clenching my fists at my side, ready to march over there and demand she leaves. I don’t see her movement until it’s too late and Chelsea’s full lips press against mine.
She must feel my stare because her eyes lift and immediately lock onto mine. They widen in surprise before darkening when they take in the hussy who’s pressed up against my body. Chelsea moans as my cock gets harder under her touch, only it’s not for her. I’m hard because of the excitement racing through my body, the excitement for the revenge and pain I’m going to cause.
Ethan, the fucker, hollers at me for getting lucky and unfortunately causes a scene that has every set of eyes turning our way. Ripping my eyes from her, I grasp Chelsea’s upper arms and force her away from me. She pouts, sticking her bottom lip out like I should be sucking it back into my mouth. She looks up at me and her face pales. I know why, the tension that she’s seeing has my entire body pulled tight. My need to storm over there and drag New Girl’s sorry ass from the beach is all-consuming.
Mason must sense where my head’s at because his hand lands on my shoulder, turning me away from the eyes of every other senior on the beach.
“Why the fuck is she here? She’s not even a senior,” I spit when what I really want to do is punch something or someone.
“No idea. I guess she was invited.”
“Fucking Camila. You need to sort that bitch out.” His eyes narrow at me, but he wisely keeps his fucking mouth shut. He might be my best friend, but I have no issues turning him into my punching bag right now.
“Let’s go set up camp and get a beer... or five.”
Handing me the tent and a few bags that he and Ethan must have grabbed from the car while I was lip-locked with Chelsea, I haul them up on my shoulder and march off toward our spot. The best spot on the fucking beach.
Chelsea skips off as if I didn’t just kick her to the curb. Her perky ass and overly big tits bounce in her almost pointless bikini as she moves, almost every male set of eyes follow her movements. Breaking my eyes from her, I take in the rest of the girls. Most are showing off as much skin as possible in the hope of bagging their guy of choice tonight. Dash night is a free for all. All bets are off as you go after the one you want. Not only are a lot of relationships made on this night, but a lot are broken too. The guys are mostly sitting back right now, watching their prey, waiting for the right moment to pounce. Excitement begins to erupt in my stomach as I consider my options for tonight. The thing is, the guys down there might think they have the pick of the bunch, but the truth is, the only people to get that privilege are the team, everyone else gets our sloppy seconds. As my gaze falls over the girls and they start to notice, tits are pushed up, asses get stuck out a little more, none of which do it for me. They all know they’re hot and they use it to get exactly what they want. No different to Chelsea.
“Fuck me. Them lot are well up for it,” Ethan rumbles behind me. “How are we meant to choose?”
As he and Mason start debating their options, my eyes once again fall on one person. Unlike every other girl here, she’s dressed in jeans and a fucking t-shirt. As if she’s not already enough of an outcast, it seems that whoever invited her also didn’t give her the memo about the dress code. A smile twitches at my lips. She may not be the one I’m going to spend the night with, but she’s got a target on her head all right. She isn’t going to make it until midnight. I’ll make fucking sure of that.
It takes us no time to get the tents up and the beers flowing. “Who are you all tagging?” Mason asks. It’s a tradition at any party that we announce our targets for the night. There’s no reason other than for bragging rights the next day when we tapped our target.
“I propose different rules tonight, seeing as it’s Dash and all.”
“Go on,” I say, tipping my bottle to my lips and downing the contents, waiting for Ethan to explain his plan.
“I propose we name a tag for each other. Then you’ve got until dawn to do the deed.”
The guys’ eyes light up at the dare-like suggestion. “Fuck yeah,” someone slurs having had one too many beers already.
“Sure. Name ‘em.”
Ethan lays back on his elbows and gazes at the party going on slightly farther down the beach. The giant bonfire roars, bathing everyone in an orange hue and the music booms from the speakers someone’s set up.
He starts rattling off names, the guys either beam in delight or groan at the epic challenge they have ahead of them. Me? I don’t have any worries. Most of the girls down there would do just about anything to be able to say they spent the night with me.
“Mason, you can have Chelsea.” A laugh erupts when I noticed the disgusted look on his face.
“Fuck off. I don’t want his used cast-offs,” Mason snaps, flicking his eyes to me.
“You won’t be complaining when she’s got her lips around your cock later.” Chelsea may be many things, but I can’t deny that she sucks good cock, and if she thinks I keep her around for any other reason, then she’s got another thing coming.
“You’re fucking
serious, aren’t you?”
“Okay I’ll give you a choice.” The others groan because they weren’t given that option. Mason lifts his brow, waiting to hear what Ethan’s got to say but by the look of the wicked smile on Ethan’s lips, I don’t think he’s going to like what he’s got to say. “Chelsea or…” I swear everyone holds their breath, no more so than Mason as we all wait. “Camila.”
“Fuck you, asshole,” Mason seethes. “I’ll stick with Chelsea.”
“Thought you might.” Ethan laughs while Mason sulks and slugs him in the shoulder.
“S’all in good fun, bro.”
“Don’t fucking bro me.” Mason drags himself up and storms toward the cooler for another beer.
“He grown a fucking pussy or what?” A few people laugh, but mostly Ethan’s comment is ignored. “So that leaves you, cap.” I keep my eyes on the crowd below, watching them laughing and dancing, that is until my eyes zero in on one couple dancing and my anger starts to boil over. Right in the damn middle is Shane and he’s dancing with her. It was obvious he was interested when he first saw her, but the way his hands are currently resting on her hips and the look in his eyes pisses me off. It should be common knowledge by now that she’s off fucking limits. If anyone’s going to put their hands on her, it’s going to be me.
My growl of frustration comes out louder than I was anticipating, and Ethan turns to me before looking back out at the crowd.
“Thorn,” he practically sings he’s so fucking excited and if I weren’t so distracted by the sight in front of me then I might see his next words coming. “Because you’re an overachiever, you get two. Shelly,” he says, nodding toward where she’s downing shots with Chelsea. I turn to him, his eyes dark and mischievous. “Amalie.”
I’m just about to ask who the fuck that is when it dawns. My eyes find her in the crowd but this time she’s not just dancing with Shane because as her hips move against his, she’s staring right at me.
“Game on, asshole. Game. On.”
THORN: A High School Bully Romance (Rosewood Book 1) Page 5
