CW Boys: The Beginning (CW Boys #1)

by C. Shell

  I nod before stepping forward and giving him a big hug. “Not a problem. Love you, brother.”

  Not waiting around for him to change his mind, Cammy and I dart toward the athletic hall. Glass cases filled with colorful trophies, plaques, and team pictures dot the walls as we head to the girls’ locker room.

  Entering the room, I’m instantly hit with a bouquet of perfumes, sweat, and hair products. Not an awarding winning combination in my book. My nose wrinkles in disgust as I fight back a sneeze. I frantically wave a hand in front of my face in an effort to shoo it all away, but the scents linger like a bad cold. “It smells like my grandmother’s house in here. She’s been infatuated with potpourri since the eighties and thinks it’s fun to place a different fragrance in every room of her home.”

  Cammy laughs and I can’t help but smile. She has an infectious laugh and no matter how bad a situation is; you can’t help but join in. Her laugh is one of the best things about her. When we were younger and the boys would upset me by doing something stupid or being their usual rude selves, Cammy was always there to cheer me up. One time Nate locked me out of my own house because the guys wanted to watch an R rated movie that they thought was too scary for me. Cammy talked her mom into renting the same movie and let me watch it at her house so I wouldn’t feel left out. Besides the fact that I couldn’t sleep for a month unless Jimmie double checked all the closets and under my bed for the large man-eating spider, it was a good movie.

  Cammy groans and slumps against me, causing me to almost fall. “God, I hate gym class. If I wanted to run around in circles and get all sweaty, I would’ve taken up a sport like softball.”

  I bump her with my hip and nudge her back up-right. “I think we’re playing tennis today.” I might not like gym as a whole, but I can rock a tennis court. I took a few lessons one summer and fell in love with the sport. Not only are the rules easy to follow but you get to wear cute shirts and fitted skirts. Plus, who doesn’t like a game that uses the word ‘Love’ as a scoring method. Tennis is the bomb!

  “Yea that’s what I heard too.”

  Heading to our assigned lockers, we waste no time changing into our spiffy gym uniforms. Out of all the schools in the county, ours has the worst school colors. Dickson up north has silver and blue, Jamison down south sports a fetching gold with dark green, and our school boars a hideous light blue and dark red. Our mascot is the cherry on top of a melted, moldy sundae. We are represented by a scary, big Beaver. Besides a tree, who the hell is scared of a freaking beaver? Standing in front of the mirror, I survey my spring-blue short sleeve top and blood-red cotton shorts with a heavy sigh. Nothing sexy here to see unless you’re into the shapeless, unisex, patriotic look. In that case, I’m your girl.

  Striding into the gym, I ignore all the glares and whispers aimed my way and take a seat at my given place on the gym floor. The intense heat from the halogen lights beaming down from the ceiling makes me feel like I’m on a stage, performing a bit for everyone’s entertainment. Unfortunately, that is what my life has become over the week, a production that’s critiqued and spoken about on a daily basis.

  Rumors about me are running rampant and have gotten larger and more ridiculous every time they’re retold. At last count, I’ve slept with everyone on the football team except the water boy, I have a fetish for girls with blue eyes, and after every soccer game won, I have wild monkey sex with Nate and Dex. It’s all complete bullshit, and as much as I’m trying to push past it, it’s wearing on my nerves.

  “How are you holding up?” Cammy’s sincere smile pulls me from my depressing thoughts.

  I don’t bother sugar coating my answer and give her the hard truth. “I’ve been better. The locker stunt was stupid, but I’m over it. Water under the bridge.” I glance around the room and meet every stare head on. Is my life that interesting that all they can do is flap their jaws about it?

  “The rumors are what’s bothering me the most. I’m doing what I can to hold it together, but every day gets harder than the last. The guys are throwing their weight around the school, doing what they can to stop them. No matter how many heads they knock together or necks they squeeze, they keep coming. It’s a losing battle. We are all worn thin and snapping at anything that moves, including each other. Come Friday, I could easily go postal on someone if they sneeze wrong.”

  She nods in agreement – a little too easily - and then moves to face me so we can talk and warm-up our muscles at the same time. “Are you any closer to finding out who's behind it all?” She asks.

  I bend over and reach for my toes as I give her question some thought. For the past few days I’ve been sorting through all the people I interact with, and none of them seem capable of such malice. Being friends with the CW Boys has always kept the number of people I interact with to a bare minimum. I’ve been labeled aloof because I don’t put myself out there, but there is a reason for that. I’ve been burned too many times to count by people -mostly girls - using me to get close to the guys That is not a fun feeling. I’m not a spotlight hog, a wiz kid, or an athletic queen. It’s easier to stay within the shadows they cast than try and compete with them. That being said, I’ve never had any true enemies before. At least, not that I know of.

  Facing Cammy, I shook my head. “That my friend is the million-dollar question. If we can figure the who, and the why, then we might have a chance to make it all go away before it gets any worse.”

  “Worse?” Cammy’s eyes rise into her hairline. “You think something else might happen?”

  I reluctantly nod. “It’s no different than all those crime shows we watch on TV. Whoever is pissed at me is trying to make a point. If they think their cause hasn’t been justified, then they might try something new. Maybe I'm paranoid, but I refuse to let my guard down just yet. I don’t want to end up like one of those stupid girls we used to laugh at in those bad horror shows we watched at your house. The moment they relax, their body is either found dumped in an abandoned alleyway with a bullet in the head or they have a car accident due to brake failure and end up in the hospital with full-blown amnesia.”

  Cammy’s peel of giggles gathers a lot of attention, not that we needed help in that department. “Oh my God, you’ve been watching way too many crime shows. This is not a game of Who Done It. I’m telling Jimmie it’s time to cut you off from any show above the G rating. Only Disney and cartoons for you from now on.”

  I sigh and give into to the grin nudging at my lips. “Not funny, woman. I don’t mess with your addiction to Skittles so leave my crime shows alone.” My tone changes from casual to serious. “All I know is that whoever is stupid enough to mess with me, better be prepared for a fight. I’m not going down without one.”

  ********

  Laid out on my bed, I’m working hard at finishing up the last four problems of my math homework while Jimmie is beside me listening to the latest downloads from my IPod. You would think after tracking my every movement for the larger part of the day he would be sick of hanging out with me.

  Obviously, I’m not that lucky.

  Jimmie must have the volume to his earbuds turned up full throttle because the ear-piercing sounds coming out of them are close to driving me to crazy. No one in their right mind can concentrate with all the racket going on and to top it off, I feel a headache coming on. It’s a modern day miracle that he hasn’t gone deaf yet.

  I love the song Stressed Out by Twenty-One Pilots, but they aren’t helping me figure out the answer to my stupid math problem. I despise math. If you take the number one million and square it, then times that number by fifty, add one trillion to that, and you will come up with a large number compatible to how much I hate doing math problems. I scrub at my achy eyes. It’s late, and I’m tired, but I can’t stop until this last question is answered. My pencil taps in sync to the beat of Jimmie’s music as I mentally work it out.

  I’m filling in the answer when out of nowhere, Jimmie throws out a hand and pushes me off the bed. I don’t have time t
o stop my momentum or throw out my hands to soften the thud of my head as it hits the floor.

  I lay on the unforgiving flooring for several seconds unable to digest what just happened. My hands fly to my head, and I frantically start searching for any cuts or gashes. Besides a small knot on the side of my forehead, nothing major appears out of place. I open my mouth ready to give Jimmie an earful when the words halt and die a horrible death on my tongue. I freeze in the spot where I lay and listen. Jimmie is in a heated conversation with someone; I’ve never heard his voice so low and dangerous as it is now. Popping all the way up, I gape at the messed up scene unfolding before me.

  Oh hell,” I gasp. I blink to make sure I’m not seeing things. Nope, everything is still the same. What a clusterfuck!

  Dex is hanging with his top half in my bedroom while his other half dangles precariously outside the window. Jimmie’s hands are clasp tightly around Dex’s throat and judging by the menacing expression on his face, I don’t think he plans on letting go anytime soon. Jumping to my feet, I scurry across my bed and start pulling on Dex’s legs and feet, wanting to get them over the window sill and to safety before my brother drops him.

  “Dammit Jimmie, let him go,” I plead. I pull at Jimmie’s arms, trying my best to pry them off Dex’s neck, but it’s useless. I’m no match for his strength. This is Jimmie’s rodeo, and if the darkened gleam in his eyes is an indication, he’s not letting go until he is good and ready.

  “Why the hell are you sneaking into my sister’s window?” I can’t remember the last time I saw my brother this irate. If Dex’s face weren’t turning red, I would find this funny. Not wanting to see either of them get hurt, I throw myself into the mix by jumping on Jimmie’s back. His surprise doesn’t last long, but it’s enough. His slacked grip gives Dex the chance he needs to twist his body to the left and dart away.

  My glee over the fight being over is snuffed out when Jimmie turns his anger on me. Ducking down low, he flips me over his shoulder and hurls my body onto the bed. I bounce once, then twice before Jimmie has me pinned down. My chest tightens as a darkness takes over his features. His accusing glare takes aim and hits me straight in the heart.

  “You have five seconds to start talking,” he demands. “You don’t look surprised to see him here. Why is that?”

  I talk fast as to get all my words out in one fell swoop. “Dex came to check on me. I haven’t been able to sleep lately with all that’s been going on. Please stop overreacting and manhandling your best friend.”

  Jimmie’s features soften. He releases my arms and scoots back onto his haunches. I jump into action and move to help Dex, who’s sitting on the floor where Jimmie left him. I tentatively rub at the red marks marring his neck while he catches his breath. Jimmie never misses a thing. He watches our movements with a raised brow.

  I feel my face blanching as Jimmie’s teeth grate together. “I want the whole truth,” he orders.

  My gut twists. As well as this night is going, it’ll look like a pretzel before all is said and done. I don’t like lying to my brother, but telling him the truth doesn’t sound like a good idea either. I internally struggle to find the right answer to appease him. Dex doesn’t seem to be having the same issues as me. Without a hesitation, he opens his mouth and spews enough truth to bury us all.

  “We took an oath as blood brothers when we were younger. I won’t disrespect that or myself by lying to you. Ask what you want, but I don’t want to hear you bellyaching later when you don’t like the answer.”

  Jimmie gives him a curt nod, his way of saying ‘lay it on me.'

  Dex begins rambling like a four-year-old, talking so fast it's hard to hear every word said. “I like your sister. And by saying I like her, I actually mean that I love her and have for most of my life. And before you ask, it’s not a platonic kind of love. That shit went away the day she grew boobs and called me out in front of my mom for staring at them.” He shakes his head and throws me a goofy grin. “What I’m trying to say is that I want to make Addison my girl. We’d already be a couple if she’d stop playing hard to get.” If I weren’t so caught up in what he’s saying, I would knock him upside his head for bringing my boobs into the mix. Not to mention, I’ve never played hard to get in my life. What a jerk face! I bite my tongue, and allow him to continue digging us both a hole the size of the Hoover Dam.

  A sexy smirk curls his lips as he glances my way. “Jelly Bean feels the same for me even though she’s too scared to admit it. Lucky for her, I can read her body like a book. It tells me all I need to know. The whole damn thing lights up like a Christmas tree when I kiss her.” I swear my face is going to be permanently red if he doesn’t stop talking about my body to Jimmie. They might be best friends but he’s my brother, and that’s just gross. At my glaring, Dex pauses and gives me a crooked smile. I glare harder, but the jerk’s grin never falters.

  Jimmie watches Dex with forced patience. I begin to squirm as I wonder what’s going on in that head of his. Does he think bad of me? Will he rat on me to mom? Does he even care? Too many questions and not enough answers have me twirling my hair around my finger hard and fast like a girl hopped up on too much sugar.

  Jimmie taps a finger to his chin. “I’m going to ignore that spill about you loving Addy because I think that’s plain bullshit. You love what’s between a girls’ legs, never the girl as a whole, which brings me to my next issue. Please tell me I didn’t just catch you climbing in my sister’s window tonight for a goddamn booty call?”

  Dex sighs in exasperation. His hand, the one that sits on his thigh, drums a rhythmic beat. The fast tune is oddly in sync with the way my heart is hammering against my chest. Thump, thump…thump, thump, thump.

  His hand stills and his eyes land heavily on my brother. “No, and stop putting words in mouth. I already told you that Addy means more to me than a random lay.” He stabs his finger in my direction. “She wasn’t lying about her sleeplessness. It just so happens that I’m the cure to it. I stayed here the other night.” His lips curl into a satisfying smile. “My being here relaxed her enough that she slept like a baby. In truth, so did I. It was nice.” Dex gives me a big wink. “Being the gentleman I am, I thought I should come over and offer my services once again.”

  His words are like a pure adrenaline shot to my heart. I can’t help but feel giddy. Dex is serious about me, and damn if that doesn’t make me happy.

  Jimmie stands to his full height. The look on his face resembles that of a hunter right before it strikes its prey. A chill slides down my spine. I hold my breath as I wait out his response. He doesn’t make me wait long.

  “You fucking prick. You’ve been sleeping with my, sister?” Jimmie bellows. A vein in his forehead pulses with rage. My brain turns to mush as he begins taking deliberate steps in our direction. On instinct, my hand tightens against Dex’s in a needy and somewhat nervous way. I make a slight gasping noise as I watch Jimmie’s hands clench into tightly coiled fists. My brother’s on the war path, and Dex is his ultimate target.

  Not trusting Dex to back down or talk his way out of this predicament, I step forward with the intent of saving both of our asses. “We seriously were only sleeping. Nothing above a PG-13 rating and we were clothed the entire time.” As my voice gains in volume, I lock eyes with his, hoping he can see the truth of my words from the innocence written on my face. I hold his gaze for what feels like forever. “We watched a little television before we both passed out. That’s all.” I stick out my little finger and link it with his. “I pinky promise.”

  Jimmie’s brows are scrunched tightly together, which is what he does when he’s deep in thought. I think he wants to believe me, but something is holding him back. Jimmie’s finger drops from mine and he gives me a steady look. “Dex doesn’t lay in bed next to a girl without at least copping a feel. He’s a manwhore. His mind is filled with thoughts dirty enough to make a prostitute blush. He’ll fuck anything with a pretty face and nice legs, so what makes you think he’ll treat
you any different?”

  I cringe knowing he’s speaking from first-hand experience. Dex’s trail of debauchery is probably a mile long, lined with broken hearts and dirty panties. I roll my eyes. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, Jimmie. I can’t tell what hurts worse, you insulting my intelligence or alluding to me being ‘easy’?”

  “Actually, “Dex chimes in. “Addy’s not exaggerating. Our night was no more exciting than when we were kids and had group sleepovers at each other’s house.” He shakes his head and runs a hand over his stubbled jaw. “Although, I will contest that it wasn’t all innocent on my part. I might be able to control my hands, but my dreams were definitely rated R. It’s been a long time since I’ve had a case of blue balls. I forgot how much that shit hurts.” He gives me a sexy smile that has my blood warming despite the present company glowering at us. “Cold showers aside, I’ve enjoyed learning what the term ‘spooning’ is all about.”

  I smile brilliantly and bat my lashes wildly. “Wow, Dex. You say the nicest things,” My teasing earns me a rough sounding snicker.

  When Dex steps forward and a heavy arm wraps around my hip, I instinctively lean into him, my entire side pressing up against his warm chest. I tried to ignore the tingle that went down my spine when his thumb drew small circles on the bare strip of skin that was peeking out where the hem of my shirt stopped and the top of my skinny jeans began. It was useless. Feeling his callused skin against my smooth one made my entire body light up.

  Dex gives my brother a weird look and for a split second, I worry that he and Jimmie might actually duke it out. His nostrils flare, then in a blink of an eye, he opens his mouth and his voice comes out much cooler than I had anticipated. I relax against him as he berates my brother. “For the record asshole, I might be well liked with the ladies, but I do have certain standards. Higher ones than you and Nate give me credit for. Just ask that girl named Shannon Lewis on the swim team. I’ve turned down that girl’s offer for a blowjob more times than I can count. That spot on her mouth isn’t a mole if you get my drift. I listened to Coach when he talked about all those nasty sexual diseases in health class. And unlike some guys I know.” Dex points a finger a finger at Jimmie. “I’m picky about where I stick my dick.”