Ugly Girl: Aston Creek High (Book 1)

by Sheridan Anne

  He sits beside Damian and it takes all of three seconds for them to start up an irritating conversation while Mr. Carver desperately tries to get on with his lesson. Though I have to give it to them, at least they’re keeping their tones to whispered murmurs.

  I’m more than aware of Slade behind me and I find it impossible to tune him out and concentrate on the lesson or starting a new art project. So instead, I do my best to tune in as much as I can.

  I lean back in my seat after placing my pencil back down on the desk. Let’s face it, I probably shouldn’t risk sketching again only to end up with a drawing of the dickhead behind me. God, what was I thinking? That was mortifying.

  Damian’s lowered tone breaks me out of my inner turmoil and has my ears pricking up like some kind of animal. “Hunters High has been talkin’ shit again.”

  “Let ‘em,” Slade’s deep rumbly voice replies. “Doesn’t change the fact that we’re going to crush them.”

  “You sure, man? Have you seen Roman Westbrock? He’s fucking good. I heard he’s already been offered a full ride.”

  “Sure, he’s good, but he’s not better than me. He only got that full ride because his sister sucked the dean’s cock during summer break and has been threatening to tell his wife unless Roman got accepted.”

  Damian barks out a sharp laugh. “No shit?”

  “I shit you not. Besides, their one good player is nothing without the backup of his team and those other jocks can’t cut it. They wouldn’t know the difference between their own ass and their teammates.”

  “Not to mention, we’ve got that new kid. What’s his name?”

  There’s a heavy silence that seems to stretch on forever. I feel a heated gazed shooting into the back of my head and I don’t doubt that it belongs to Slade. In fact, after being glared at all day yesterday, I think I could probably pick out his glare in a line-up of a million people. There’s just something so…chilling about it.

  Something is whispered before Slade’s lowered voice hits my ears. “It’s her brother,” he says with distaste. “Blake Daniels, but he ain’t shit. As long as I’m captain that little prick is going to see more bench time than the fucking water boy.”

  “The fuck?” Damian says as I throw myself out of my seat and spin around, shocking myself with how fast I move. “I thought the kid was good.”

  “What did you just say?” I screech, facing a grinning Slade who’s stretched out, looking impossibly comfortable in the stiff classroom chair. I probably could have controlled myself here had this dick said anything else. There’s a lot of shit I’d put up with, but when someone uses my brother to get to me, and worse, does it by threatening his basketball career, it means business.

  “Listening in on a private conversation?” he questions, raising a brow, trying and succeeding to get a rise out of me.

  “You’re a fucking idiot if you don’t play Blake. What’s your problem with him? He’s done nothing to you. If you’d just give him a chance, you’d see he’s an incredible player. Hell, I’d put money down that he’s better than your sloppy ass.”

  “Skylah,” Mr. Carver demands. “Sit down.”

  Both Slade and I ignore him, both of us as equally locked in the other’s intense stare as Damian’s eyes flick between us like some sort of tennis match. The left side of Slade’s lips pull up into an amused sneer which only manages to infuriate me. “You really want to know my problem?” Slade says as though he’s about to tease me with his response. He sits forward, getting as close as he can so he can reveal his little secret. “It’s you. Everything about you. Your bad attitude and your sickening desperation to prove that you’re some sort of tough bitch. Well, guess what? I see right through you and you’re nothing but trash.”

  I scoff. If this is what he really thinks of me then that’s on him. I’m a fucking treat which only makes him a liar. If he thinks I’m here to prove something, then he can’t see through me at all. He’s taking guesses and in this case, he couldn’t be more wrong.

  I cross my arms over my chest, ignoring Mr. Carver’s roar as he demands the class's attention. “You’re going to play Blake.”

  “Sure, I’ll play him,” Slade says. “Once your bitch ass is gone.”

  I see fucking red.

  I don’t know why and I certainly don’t know how but one second, I’m standing, facing the prick and the next, I’m flying over the desk, nails out and more than ready to cause some damage to his pretty face.

  Slade’s eyes widen in surprise but the excitement is so loud that he may as well be screaming it from the top of his lungs. He lets me come at him, but unlike in the past, Slade catches me with an ease that’s almost laughable.

  Within the blink of an eye, I’m sitting on his lap with my body pressed down against the cool desk. My hands are twisted and held tightly behind my back, both of them wrapped between the fingers of his right hand while his left remains firmly on my back, holding me down.

  Slade leans over me as I distantly hear Mr. Carver yelling at the top of his lungs, but right here, right now, all I can hear is him. His body presses down over me and I feel the zipper of his jeans move against my ass as he lowers his mouth to my ear. “I guess you have a weak spot after all, Virago.”

  I bring my foot up and slam it back against his shin, enjoying the curse that comes through a clenched jaw. “You’re going to fucking pay for that.”

  “Let me go.”

  Mr. Carver comes shooting down the aisle as the rest of the class looks on with their phones out and recording. “RELEASE HER.”

  Slade doesn’t dare move and we stay in this strange hold for a few prolonged seconds until Damian’s voice cuts through. “Slade, man, let her go. If you hurt her, you’re fucked for the game.”

  I feel his body vibrate with silent laughter and a second later, he eases up. His hand is removed from my back and he pulls back on my hand, lifting me up from the desk, but that doesn’t change the fact that I’m still sitting on the fucker’s lap.

  I shoot to my feet in seconds but Slade stands behind me, still not releasing my wrists. He looms over me and standing right at my back, I realize that I don’t even come to his shoulders. What was I thinking of taking on a guy like this? We’re completely different. I can’t match him even if I tried.

  I tug hard on my wrists but his grip is like stone so I do what any other self-respecting woman would do and slam my ass back into his groin. I’m too short to cause any real damage, but it does the trick and has Slade gasping and hurrying to move away.

  I quickly hurry around to the other side of the desk to where I should have remained in the first place. I look to Mr. Carver, knowing better than anyone that in these types of situations, someone is bound to get in trouble.

  I wait expectantly, knowing that Slade was the one to start this bullshit but when Carver shoots daggers at me and points towards the door, I realize that maybe I’m fighting a bigger war than I’d realized.

  “Get your ass down to Principal Randwall’s office now and don’t bother coming back.”

  “What?” I demand, waving my hand toward Slade who drops back down into his seat with that same irritating, pleased smirk. “This is on him, not me.”

  “OUT,” Carver booms.

  For fuck’s sake.

  Realizing there isn’t anything I can do, I grab my notepad and pencil off the table before finding my bag and slinging it over my shoulder. Without a backward glance, I get myself out of here, detouring straight past Principal Randwall’s office and straight out the front gates.

  I’m more than done for the day. So much for trying to attend every class to graduate and get myself to college. I guess reaching that goal is going to be a bit harder than I imagined.

  Chapter 7

  “Are you sure about this?” Maze questions, glancing around the locker room for the seventh time in the last two minutes.

  I grin to myself. It’s not like she’s never been in here before. In fact, I’m positive she has and when she w
as, she was probably having the time of her life. There’s no need for her to be so paranoid. If we get caught, it’d be so easy to shrug it off as a bunch of horny girls looking to score with the basketball stars of the school.

  “I’ve never been so fucking sure in my life,” I tell her, mentally going over my plan and grinning to myself at the sheer brilliance of it. “Keep your eyes on the door. I don’t care if we get caught but I need to get this done first.”

  “I don’t think I even fully understand what it is that you’re trying to achieve.”

  A wide smile spreads over my face. “Believe me, the less you know the better. Besides, I wouldn’t want to ruin anything by spoiling the surprise.”

  “Yeah, but then I actually have to watch the stupid game.”

  “Trust me, it’ll be worth it,” I tell her, scanning over the numbers on the lockers. “Besides, don’t you have a raging boner for the guy? You should be thanking me that you get to spend your night drooling over him and watching his bits bounce around in his basketball shorts.”

  “Damn, that really would be worth it,” she breathes as her eyes brim with excitement. “You know, I heard he’s fully equipped with the biggest anaconda Aston Creek has ever seen.”

  “I’d honestly be disappointed if he wasn’t,” I laugh, “but I’m not surprised. Guys like him are popular because they’re hot and the girls love them…and the girls only love them because they either have money, a car, or a big dick.”

  “Well…,” she says thoughtfully. “Most of them at least, some of them are just purely talented.”

  “True,” I say, thinking of Blake. He sure as hell is talented and while he’s a pretty boy and takes care of his body, he no longer has the money or the car. His dick on the other hand…yeah, I don’t even want to know. Slade though, I guess tonight I’ll discover if he’s got the whole package or if he’s just a fraud. I already know he’s got the car, money, and apparently, the dick to go with it, but did he get to be captain because he looks pretty upfront or did he actually earn it?

  “While we’re on the topic,” Maze says, drawing me out of my head and forcing me to concentrate on the numbered lockers. “Stay away from Lachie Dunforth. He’s all talk with not much to show for it. Trust me, I learned that lesson the hard way.”

  “Noted.”

  I come to a stop in front of the locker with a big ‘1’ and despite not knowing how these lockers were allocated, I’d dare say this is Slade’s. Though, the ‘Cruz’ etched into the metal with what must have been a knife and the imprint of a fist right in the center are also dead giveaways.

  I grin to myself. It’s showtime.

  I pull my backpack off my back and drop it to the bench before feeling around inside for my trusty paper clip. I stayed up all night on YouTube working out how to do this and the second I slide the end into his lock and give it a jiggle, the cheap padlock pops open.

  Maze gawks with pride. “You’re a fucking genius.”

  “No,” I say, pulling out my calligraphy powdered ink with a wicked grin. “I’m the fucking devil.”

  ----------

  I sit in the school gymnasium beside Maze, both of us staring at the people around us as they pour in, desperate to get the best seats to watch their favorite team, the Aston Creek Mambas. Apparently, tonight is an important game, though it’s still early in the season. Something tells me it’s only important because the guys who they’re against are dickheads and have been celebrating their win long before it’s due. Something tells me that Slade Cruz isn’t the kind of guy to let a win slip through his fingers. Though that brings the question of how I’ve been so successful.

  The gymnasium fills to capacity and the noise in here is ridiculous. It’s only a high school basketball game yet it seems the whole world has shown up to see the Mambas dominate the Hunter’s High Rangers.

  I’m surprised the building has what it takes to facilitate such a crowd. From what I can tell, the school seems to throw any spare money at the basketball team, even if it means taking some from other areas. When that happens, I don’t doubt it’s going to be from either the art program, culinary sciences or early childhood classes. That’s just the way the world goes around.

  A loud booing begins to echo through the gymnasium and I look down at the door to see the Rangers filing in. They have a huge group with them and it’s clear that they’re all about the show. The guys wear expensive tracksuits which are no doubt covering their uniforms beneath. They have matching shoes and preppy haircuts. Despite how much I hate Slade, these guys are the enemy.

  Within seconds, I spot the captain. This is the guy Slade and Damian were talking about on Tuesday during biology, the guy they say is really good. What was his name? Raymond? Rolland? No, Roman. That’s it, Roman Westbrock.

  My eyes narrow in curiosity as he leads his team across the empty court. He’s tall, maybe even taller than Slade. His body looks rock hard and the intense darkness behind his eyes tells me that there’s so much more to this guy. It’s sexy in a dangerous kind of way. He’s the guy you’d never bring home to your mother yet the one all the girls flock to for their daddy issues.

  The Rangers make their way over to their seats and just as they start peeling off their tracksuits, the Aston Creek High cheerleaders stand and demand the room’s attention. Loud music begins pumping through the gymnasium and the cheer skanks begin shaking their asses and getting into formation.

  Whatever it is that they’re doing seems to get everyone in the school spirit and soon enough, the bleachers are rattling with the crowd’s support.

  One girl steps upfront and beams at the crowd as though they’re all here just for her. Her platinum blonde hair is perfectly styled with a big blue bow and her cotton-candy lips are plumped and glossed. She’s definitely not my people. There’s no doubt she’s the captain. “Who’s that?” I ask, leaning into Maze’s side.

  She looks across at me and then follows my gaze down to the cheerleaders. “That’s Rachel Carter, the captain. She’s Damian’s play toy. At least, she is this week.”

  “Rachel?” I ask, testing the name and trying to figure out if she’s someone I need to watch out for. “Not Vanessa?”

  “God, no,” she barks. “Nessa wouldn’t be seen dead with pom-poms. Nessa and Rachel are polar opposites. Rachel is so sweet it’s sickening, but don’t get on her bad side because she has a nasty bite, but Nessa, she’s like the female version of Slade.”

  “So, where the hell is she? I don’t think I’ve seen her all week.”

  Maze shrugs. “Who knows. She has a habit of only showing up when she wants something. The rumor is that she’s been spending the week partying with supermodels on some rich guy’s yacht, but really, I think she’s just been home with diarrhea.”

  “Geez, thanks for that visual.”

  “My pleasure,” she grins.

  The cheer team finishes their routine and make a ‘V’ outside the doors, shaking their poms as though their lives depend on it. The doors tear open and Slade comes jogging out followed by his team, and a proud Blake who looks ecstatic to be playing for the Mambas.

  As the boys race out onto the court, the crowd roars for them and I can’t help the need to smile despite how much I try not to. Blake looks as though he’s fallen in with the team so easily and it warms my heart that he’s found the transition to this new school so easy.

  I find myself tracking Slade’s movements as he makes his way around his court. He grabs a ball and dribbles it down the court as a quick warm-up before running to the hoop and launching himself in the air. He dunks it as though it was the easiest thing he’s ever done and I can’t lie, I gape a little. I’m impressed. I guess the guy has skill after all and to be honest, it might have been one of the sexiest things I’ve ever seen.

  His name is called from the sidelines and I watch as he walks over to some girl and bends down. He presses a kiss to her lips and she whispers something in his ear that makes a devilish grin appear and has me clenching my
thighs. Fuck, the guy really is dangerously sexy.

  “That’s Nessa,” Maze explains, clearly watching the same show.

  I nod as I look her over. She’s nothing special but from the look of her, she seems like the kind to act first, think later. A bit like me, really. Though I know I shouldn’t judge a book by its cover but sometimes human nature shines brighter and a girl just can’t help it.

  I decide pretty damn quickly that I don’t like her and that’s all the thought I put into it before she’s put to the back of my mind.

  Slade finishes with Nessa and jogs over to the guy who must be his coach. The guy starts talking and soon enough the whole team is crowded around. I keep my eyes on Blake, feeling a proud big sister moment coming on and as if sensing my eyes on him, the little turd looks up and beams wide.

  I instantly flip him off and he laughs, knowing that’s the best kind of support he could possibly get from me. Slade looks at Blake and whacks the back of his head to force his attention back on their coach but curiosity gets the best of him and he glances up at me, locking his heated gaze on mine.

  His brows furrow, clearly wondering what the hell I’m doing here. If only he knew but considering he’s wearing the jersey I had a little fun with earlier, he’s got absolutely no idea.

  His gaze has a need bubbling deep inside my stomach but I try my best to ignore it, after all, I’m here to witness his downfall, not think about the devilish things he could do to my body.

  The longer he glares, the harder it becomes to control myself and I eventually let my lips pull up into a satisfied smirk that only results in sharpening his glare. I watch with amusement as suspicion enters his gaze quickly followed by doubt and the more I smile, the worse it gets. He knows I’m up to something yet he’s got absolutely no idea what and that knowledge is killing him.

  Fuck, this is going to be good.

  We wait another twenty minutes and then finally, both teams step into position and get this shit started. The buzzer sounds and my grin begins to hurt my cheeks as I watch Slade dominating up and down the court. I have to admit, I’m kind of impressed. He keeps glancing up here, wondering what the fuck I’m up to and despite his distraction, he’s still clearly the best on the court. He’s like an avenging angel, gliding effortlessly past his opponents.