by Yalu Taylors
J.O.Y
Tessandra Young Series
Book 1
Yalu Taylors
Copyright © 2017 by Yalu Taylors
All rights reserved. No part of this eBook may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system, without prior written permission from the author. Except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. Items, Names, and persons in this Book are entirely fictional. They bear no resemblance to anyone living or dead.
This Book Is Intended for Ages 17+ As It Contains Adult Language and Sexual situations.
This is a Reverse Harem the MC will end up with multiple guys.
Dedicated to my loving husband who has put up with my craziness throughout my writing process
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 1
“What the fuck happened to my car?” I scream as I storm back into the house. I fling my backpack onto the table, turning to face my mother. She’s in the kitchen which is just off to the left of the front door. I take a deep steadying breath, the smell of the lemon scented cleaner my mum uses, burning my nose. Making my anger flare again.
“Language Tessa.” My mum scolds, not even bothering to look up from her laptop.
Bitch couldn’t care about my car if she tried. So why should I care about my language? “Oh fuck, sorry.” I hold in a smirk and count to three. I watch as my mother’s mouse brown hair flicks over her chocolate eyes as she shakes her head in exasperation. Her bangs fall back in place, obscuring her eyebrows from view. Seriously she has mum hair, it is cut just above her shoulders, dead straight with a fringe of bangs that just reach her eyes.
“Tessandra Elizabeth Young!”
Right because my full name will make me listen. Not! She’s not even my real mum, I found out a couple of weeks ago that I was adopted. Fantastic way to start your senior year huh? But right now, I really need to know what the fuck happened to my car. I feel like yelling at her, but I hold back barely. “Just tell me what happened to my damn car!”
I worked for two years on that beast of a car and now it's sitting outside with a giant dent in the door. I’m pretty sure I already know but I want to be sure before I go killing my stupid cousin. Well he’s not really my cousin, considering the whole adoption crap.
“You parked it too close to the curb and Peter accidentally hit it trying to pull into our driveway.” She says it with no emotion at all.
Ugh, accidentally my ass. That asshole’s always been jealous of my 1968 Black Shelby GT. Knowing him he was probably drunk driving again. Just last weekend he came home in a cop car because he had been pulled over for drink driving.
“He's paying for the damage.” I snap as I grab my school bag and walk back outside. Ugh! Why the hell does she let her precious Peter get away with shit like this. Oh, that’s right, he’s actually related to her. The shithead moved in with us last year because of his mum, Clarisse went and got herself arrested for drug possession, again. She’s doing five years this time.
I start the engine and head off to school. The drive is short and only takes about five minutes but finding a parking spot takes longer. I finally find a spot just behind the big oak where the smokers hang out. Walking to class is like wading through a sea of scents. Every girl at my school has a penchant for using way too much body spray or perfume and every guy seems to forget to use deodorant or coats himself in so much it makes it hard to breath three feet away.
The school has a uniform, but no one bothers to wear it. The school sluts like wearing their really short skirts or shorts and midriff tops that barely cover their boobs. The geeks and goody goodies wear various versions of dress pants and pencil skirts with those hideous button-up shirts. The schools Skater crew wears the usual skater gear while the jocks all wear their sports uniforms. Me, well I’m one of the few girls who still rock the nineties spaghetti strap tanks and boot-leg jeans.
I head straight to my locker and regret not going straight to class instead. The bitch squad is standing gossiping right in front of my locker. Mariah Verantis, Destiny Kole and Charlotte Medley, the three don’t just look alike, they act and dress alike too. All three are bottle blondes this term but they have dyed their hair so many times since middle school, I’m not even sure they know what their natural color really is. They are supermodel thin and so fake. They dress in the latest fashion and never have a hair out of place, mind you, their makeup is so thick you can’t tell if they have any other emotion but bitchiness. Trust me when they open their mouths everything becomes very clear.
I approach my locker and make a very obvious fake coughing sound.
“Ugh! Go away slutbag, we are talking here.” Mariah snarls.
Yeah, the bitch calls people horrid names all the time. It’s just who she is. You know, the typical ‘I’m so much better than you bimbo.’ “Talking? Oh, I’m so fucking sorry! Please continue, it’s entertaining when dogs do tricks.” I say as I scowl at her and push past her to my locker. I bump Destiny as I pass her, and she quickly relocates, standing just behind Mariah.
“Bitch!” Destiny mumbles. Destiny is pretty smart, but her attitude makes her almost as big a bitch as Mariah.
“Can you believe she actually wears stuff like that in public?” Charlotte whisper yells. Charlotte is the typical follower. No brains in her head what so ever.
Taking a deep breath, I lean closer to her like I’m telling her a secret. “You do realize makeup doesn’t cover up stupid?” I say it a little too loudly and people walking past laugh. My cheeks heat but I ignore it. I’ve been ignoring pretty much everything for the last few weeks. My life went to hell, my only friend moved away over the summer and I found out the parents I had been calling mum and dad for the last 17 years were nothing but imposters. Yeah, I’m a little bitter and cynical today. Don’t get me wrong, usually, I’m a little nicer but when your adopted father leaves the night he tells you he’s not your father and your adopted mother tells you that you’ll be moving out on your 18th birthday because you’re not her child and she doesn’t want to have to support you anymore. (Yeah, my ‘Mother’ is a bitch.) I’m pretty sure I have a good enough reason to be feeling quite angry at the world.
“Come on girls, I’m going to be the bigger person and turn the other cheek.” Mariah sneers at me as she turns around. Her chemical perfume wafts up from her as she turns, making me want to throw up.
“Oh, please don’t turn the other cheek, it’s just as ugly. No one needs to see that.” More laughter follows as she walks away. My snarky comments are my way of dealing with the pathetic attempts at bullying. There are several bullies in Orion Public High. You have the usual queen Bitch aka Mariah and her typical jock boyfriend. Shaun, who happens to be Peter’s best friend. Then, of course, you have the asshole jocks who love to pick on the geeks, Jack, and Steve. Oh, and let’s not forget the bad boy bullies who will probably end up in prison one day, Hank, Demetri, and Seth. I haven’t seen much of those last three lately.
Mariah and I weren’t always enemies, we were friends once. Bitch lost her mind when we started high school. She decided I was too much of a freak to hang out with. I’m not really that much of a freak. At least I don’t think so. Perhaps I should explain; Mariah and I were over her place, a fucking mansion she calls a small cottage, having a slumber party when I had an episode. My adopted parents call it that by the way. Anyway, I had an episode, it’s where I go into
a trance and stare at nothing. In my head, I see images, usually only flashes but this time, I saw Mariah’s father having an affair with his secretary.
Of course, stupid me told her all about it and ever since then she blamed me for her parents’ divorce. I really don’t see what she has to complain about though. Her parents are super rich, and she gets two of everything and spoilt bloody rotten by both parents. So yeah after that we weren’t friends. She became the queen bitch of the school.
As for me, I became an outcast. I’m not super plain or anything, I’m actually really pretty with ivory skin, natural honey blonde hair with soft waves. Bright blue eyes with golden rings in the center. Short but well-proportioned body, yeah, I have curves and I’m not ashamed of it. The bell rings, startling me out of my self-evaluative thoughts. I hurry off to class.
Math sucks, but I’m not failing, I take my seat and gaze at the door, waiting for our always late teacher Mr. Logan to enter the room.
“Can you believe it? Four hot new guys. Apparently, they just moved into the house, next door to Mariah.” Oh, great more poor guys for Mariah to stalk. I listen to Casey and Beth out of boredom. Casey is the school gossip, she's nice enough but never tell her a secret. She's your standard five-foot brunette with big boobs. Beth on the other hand, well she's almost as big a bitch as Mariah. Beth is the school slut, the bitch is five six, complete with fake red hair, giant fake boobs, and long legs she spreads easily. if there's a guy you like, don't ever tell her. She'll sleep with him just to stop you from having him first.
I found that out the hard way. Back in junior year, I had a major crush on this guy named Jack. He was a douche but not the point. I made the mistake of thinking Beth was a friend and told her about my crush. She offered to help set us up and well needless to say I didn't even get a date. She slept with him that night at a party. Told me the next day that he wasn't interested in dating. Yeah, you guessed it, they dated for four months.
Mr. Logan walks in ten minutes after the bell. He sits behind his desk looking like a grey-haired librarian. His round glasses make his grey eyes look dull and cold. He lifts his head up and barks, “Chapter twelve. There's a quiz at the end. Turn your answers in at the end of class.” I like Mr. Logan, he's not much of a teacher but at least he doesn't drone on like the other teachers. I yank my text book out and flip straight to the quiz. Jotting down the answers quickly so I can begin my new story. I write crime fiction for fun. It's a way for me to deal with the fucked-up visions I have.
The last vision was this morning, some hot guy around my age, hit a poor dog in a red ford pickup. He stopped ripped his shirt off and damn if he didn't have a six pack and huge arm muscles. He wrapped the dog up and hopped back into his car. He and his dark hair and multi-hued hazel eyes will be playing a significant role in my dreams tonight. Definitely one of my better visions. Well except for the poor dog that is. Anyway, I use the visions as the baseline for my stories. They usually turn out quirky, but no one ever gets to read them, so I really don’t care.
The bell rings and I gather my things. I have science next, but we are only working on biology this term so I'm in no hurry. I wander slowly down the hall being careful not to bump into anyone. I hate touching people almost as much as I hate people walking right behind me. Speaking of which, “Dude, don't walk so close.” I turn around to glare at the hulking guy but stop short, standing right behind me with an amused look on his face is none other than Mr. Quarterback himself. Short brown hair, plain beady blue eyes and a face that's taken one too many hits on the field.
“Fuck off Shaun!” I snarl. The douche has been dating Mariah for over a year now and he still flirts with anything with boobs. He knows damn well I hate people walking so close behind me. You'd think after the last time he'd have learned his lesson. Yeah, I punched him in the face. He had it coming, I swear! Any guy who grabs a girl’s ass is asking to be punched. Flipping him the finger I pick up my pace.
“You gonna give me your number yet Tessandra?”
“Fuck off Shaun, I'm not interested.” Where's one of those cartoon anvils when you need one? Squishing him would be doing the whole fucking world a favor. I look over my shoulder only to find he's now been joined by my fucked-up ‘cousin.’ Finally, I have an opportunity to chew his ass out over the damage to my car.
“Peter, you fuck-head, you will be paying for the repairs to my car.”
“Fuck off, I never touched your fucking piece of shit car.” He steps to the left to go around me, I step with him, blocking his path. I glare up at his face, which is hard to do when you’re only five three and three quarters (every little bit of height counts when you're as short as me) and the dickhead is over six feet. His black messy bed hair and big brown eyes would look handsome on anyone else but on him, they just look ugly. Truthfully, he's actually got boy band good looks but I'm all about personality when it comes to my hotness scale.
“You better fucking pay to get it fixed or I’ll take it out on your truck.” Peter owns a big blue land rover and the pearl blue paintwork is the reason I know for sure it was him. That disgusting color was all over the side where the dent is on my car.
“I tell you what, you go out with me Friday night and I’ll pay for the damages.”
“Man, she ain’t gonna go out with you, you know she’s a dike.” They both chuckle at Shaun’s pathetic joke. Peter high fives Shaun and they both look at me, wiggling their eyebrows.
“I’m not a fucking dike!” I growl as I turn on my heel and head off to class, feeling like I need a shower.
“Prove it, go out with me or better yet sleep with me!” Peter yells down the hall after me.
I walk right to the back of the class to my normal seat. I’m usually the only one in the class who doesn’t have a partner but the teacher Ms. Fredricks doesn’t mind as I get straight A’s. I shove my bag onto the table and plonk down in the seat. Class begins and Ms. Fredricks asks us to go over the work we did yesterday while she sorts through the papers for our next assignment. Boring!
I look at Ms. Fredricks, she’s in her late fifties. Her plain, wrinkled face is sporting her usual scowl and her hair is scraped back into a bun. Her pencil skirt and matching blouse are a burnt amber today, making her tanned skin look almost as orange. I grab my notebook and start to write.
I’m interrupted by the sound of every girl in the classroom gasping. I look up to see what has caught everyone’s attention and holy fuck! It’s the guy from my vision, he’s standing in the doorway to the classroom, wearing a tight tank top, that doesn’t leave anything to the imagination. His pectoral muscles are well defined, and the tank is hugging his abs. His biceps are so well defined I can imagine him lifting weights every day just to keep them that way. I’m staring just as much as anyone else but when his eyes flick over to where I’m sitting I quickly look away, my cheeks tinged slightly pink.
“Teacher said I can sit here.” His husky voice sends shivers down my spine. I ignore them and grab my bag off the desk. He sits down next to me, his broad shoulders brushing against mine as he squeezes in. Another shiver races down my spine at the contact. Shuffling my stool over I try to put a bit more distance between us. He turns to look at me and sighs. I watch him out the corner of my eye, wondering why he is sighing. He does it again, I turn towards him and open my mouth to speak but no words come out.
He’s staring right at me with a gorgeous smile on his face. Twin dimples gracing his cheeks. Oh wow! “I’m Hunter.” He holds his hand out for me to shake but I just stare at it for a moment. He tilts his head to the side, a strand of his long hair falling over his eyes, studying me. After a moment or two, he shakes his head, flicking his hair back and drops his arm. “Just trying to be friendly.” He mumbles spinning to face the front of the class. I study his profile and notice his hair has a blue tinge to it. Very strange.
Ms. Fredricks stands up and positions herself so the whole class can see her. “We will be pairing up for our next assignments.” Everyone starts lifting the
ir asses from their chairs. “Don’t bother getting up, look to the person sitting at the same desk as you, they will be your biology partner for the next four weeks.” She hands a stack of papers to the front row to pass back. The new guy grabs ours and sits there staring at me, his pen poised over the pages.
“Well you going to tell me your name or do I just call you partner?” I sigh loudly and lean back, folding my arms beneath my breasts. His eyes follow the movement and he smirks.
“Tessandra.”
His smirk turns into a smile. “I really like your name.”
“Thanks, I got it for my birthday.” His laugh rumbles quietly in the silence of the classroom. I can’t help the smile that crosses my face, his laugh is an infectious kind. It makes you want to join in. I glance down at the paper and see he has spelled my name correctly. He looks at me as though he wants to say something but Ms. Fredricks starts talking again.
“Now, you all have forty minutes to talk quietly with your partners. There are five topics to choose from. Choose carefully because you can’t change your mind later on. Speaking of changing. No! you may not request to change partners. You will work in the pairs you have. Now get to work.” Hunter slides the papers to the middle of our table and leans in, once again brushing our shoulders together. I breathe in and a faint woodsy cologne hits my nose. Sigh. He even smells good.
“You know we'll have to actually talk if we're going to be working together.” He says straight-faced. I smile, can't help it, he's really nice.
“You choose the topic, I'm good with any of them.” He taps his pen against his lips, drawing my attention to them. His top lip is bow-like but thin, his bottom lip is plump and really makes me want to see what it would be like to run my tongue over it. Whoa, where the hell did that come from? Okay so I'm a little overdue for some male attention but damn those are some kissable lips.
I lift my eyes and notice his dark eyes twinkling golden brown. Fuck! He totally just caught me checking him out. I look back down at the page in front of me.
