New Rules (Too Many Rules Book 4)

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New Rules (Too Many Rules Book 4) Page 6

by G. L. Snodgrass


  Instead, I tried to play it cool. I did the whole hair flip over the shoulder thing. Shot him the evil stare my mom had passed down to me, and then walked around him.

  I’d gone only a few steps when I glanced back over my shoulder.

  The smirky, silvery blue-eyed boy was looking at me and for some reason, I felt pretty sure he’d been checking me out from the rear. A small smile of appreciation creased his lips.

  I swallowed hard and turned away. No way was I going to let some troglodyte upset my day. But of course, I thought about little else through the rest of class. In fact, I even stopped worrying about Jimmy for a short period of time and focused on worrying about me and the way that appreciative smile had made my stomach turn inside out.

  .o0o.

  Nate

  All I could do was stare as she walked away. That angry scowl was sexy as hell. The butt was pretty great also.

  Get a grip, I told myself. It’s the first day of a new school. The last thing you needed to do was piss off some guy by making a move on his girl. And a girl like that had to have a dozen guys lined up in the boyfriend queue.

  It was going to be different this time, I promised myself. No fights. No expulsions. And if I was lucky, no suspensions. I was going to keep my mouth shut and head down. Get through this year and I’d never have to step inside one of these dungeons ever again.

  Sighing, I entered my English Lit class. The quick glances were all too familiar. I could see it behind their eyes; Who’s the new guy? Where’d he come from? He looks like a Neanderthal on a bad day.

  I let the negativity wash past me. I’d learned long ago to ignore them. They were just future bad memories.

  Taking a seat in the far back corner, I stared forward and ignored the questioning looks.

  “Mr. Clark?” the teacher asked me. A small, balding man of about forty who looked like he spent his weekends reading books in front of a fire. Probably fancy, ancient books about gothic castles, and desperate virgins.

  “Yes,” I answered.

  The teacher smiled that welcoming grin they taught them. The one that tried to reassure us that everything was going to be great and he was going to be my friend.

  “Welcome to Cooper High School,”

  I only nodded. The last thing I was doing was swapping a bunch of small talk with a teacher.

  “I’m Mr. Anderson. If you have any questions, let me know.”

  Yeah, like that was going to happen. Not in this lifetime. Instead, I nodded and turned to look across the room. From the corner of my eye, I saw the helpful grin drop as he got the message. We were not going to be friends and he had not discovered his next project.

  As I examined the room, the little kid the pretty girl had been talking to, caught my attention. My first reaction was to wonder if I was in the right room.

  “What is he doing here?” the bottle blond in the front asked as she pointed at the kid. I placed her right away, a cheerleader wanna-be. The kind of girl that wrapped boys around her finger. Used them up and tossed them away like last weeks trash.

  “This is James Watson …” the teacher began.

  “Jimmy,” the boy corrected.

  “Why is a freshman in our class?” a pretty boy in a green and white letterman jacket, sitting next to bottle blond, asked with a folded brow. If I had to bet, I’d say starting quarterback and general jerk.

  All I could do was shake my head. Pretty boy was not afraid of showing how much of an idiot he could be. A dangerous mix, popularity, and stupidity. A recipe for drama.

  “I’m a senior,” the little kid responded with a touch of dismissiveness. Obviously, he had seen the stupidity around him. Unfortunately, he didn’t have the sense to keep his mouth shut and let the teacher handle it.

  All I could do was shake my head. Someone had screwed up. The kid didn’t belong here. Not with this group.

  Sighing internally, I folded my arms over my chest and leaned back in my chair. The kid was on his own. He’d learn fast or fade away.

  Either way, not my problem.

 

 

 


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