SAVAGE: Rosewood High #3

by Lorraine, Tracy

  “Nice of you to join us,” he jokes, sitting back in his chair and crossing his arms over his chest. The guys around him join in with his amusement.

  Huffing out a frustrated breath, I drop my bag to the floor with a bang and fall into the seat.

  “You haven’t missed too much, we’ve only just started this task so I’m sure you’ll catch up.” I nod at the teacher as she drops a textbook and exercise book in front of me. “Page ninety-two.”

  I flip it open and try to listen to what she’s saying, but most of it goes in one ear and straight out the other.

  Being able to hear the low rumble of his voice as he says fuck knows what to his friend about me doesn’t exactly help with my concentration, and when something hits the back of my head, I give up completely.

  Clearly not happy with the fact that I let his ball of paper fall to the floor, he tries again. This time it ricochets off my shoulder and drops down onto my desk.

  I stare at it. He obviously wants me to open it. But as much as I might want to find out what vile message he’s written inside it, I keep my hands in my lap and stare at it.

  After a few minutes, my curiosity gets too much and I reach for it. I’m just about to reveal what’s inside when the teacher stops beside me.

  “That’s not exactly the best way to introduce yourself, is it, Miss Pritchard.” She snatches the note from my hand and pulls it open. She pales slightly at what’s written before demanding to know who wrote it.

  As expected, the entire class falls silent. I’m sure every single person behind me knows it came from Ethan, but equally no one is brave enough to go up against a member of the football team. It’s the same in every school I’ve spent time in. It might not always be the football team that rules the school, sometimes it’s the soccer or the basketball team, but ultimately it’s a bunch of jacked up, arrogant assholes who think they’re fucking gods.

  I roll my eyes and slump down in my seat.

  “I think maybe you and I need a chat after class, Miss Pritchard.”

  “Great,” I mutter. First class of my first day and he’s already getting me in trouble.

  * * *

  After getting a ten-minute dressing down from my English Lit teacher about how passing notes isn’t what is expected of Rosewood High students, I’m late for my biology class. She doesn’t seem to care that I clearly wasn’t the one to write it. I mean, I’m hardly going to warn myself of what’s coming to me. But then again, I guess no one ever pulls up the legends that are the football team for their appalling behavior. At least I can blame the fact that I’m new and lost for my tardiness. Could this day get any fucking worse?

  Finding the cafeteria at lunch is much easier than any of my morning classes, seeing as almost every student in the school moves in that direction.

  With a tray full of questionable looking food, I glance around for a table. Every one is taken, so I head to a half full one with two people sitting at it, purposefully ignoring the one full of football players and cheerleaders. Thankfully Ethan’s attention is on the same girl who was forced on me earlier so he doesn’t notice my arrival.

  “I’m sorry, do you mind?” I point to the empty seats.

  The guy nods. “Sure, go for it.”

  Dropping my tray to the table, I feel their attention on me, but I don’t look up. I’m really not in the mood for people after my shitty morning.

  “Hey, you’re Raelynn, right? Ethan’s…” The female voice trails off.

  “I’m not Ethan’s anything,” I snap.

  Glancing over out of the corner of my eye, I vaguely recognize the girl from Saturday night, but I’ve no clue who she is. The guy isn’t familiar at all.

  “Oh sorry. Yeah. So how are you finding your first day?” When I just stare at her without offering an answer, she opens her mouth once again. “I’m Camila, by the way. This is Shane.”

  “Great.” I give her a very quick and equally fake smile before looking down to my plate.

  An awkward silence settles around us before we’re joined by another guy.

  “Hey, baby. Having a good day?” I glance up to see the blonde guy from the couch on Saturday night very slowly and carefully lower himself down beside Camila.

  “Are you sure you should be here? The doctor said—”

  “Screw the doctor. I’m not sitting at home anymore.”

  “Fine. But if you do more damage, you know Coach won’t let you play in the final.”

  “We’ve gotta make it there first. Don’t you think you’re being a little presumptuous, Cam?” the other guy says.

  “Glad to know you’re feeling positive about it.”

  “We’re not the same team without you, man.”

  I roll my eyes, realizing that the other guy is also on the team. I look over to where the rest of the team and cheer squad are huddled around a few joined up tables, and I wonder why these two aren’t over with them.

  I know the second their eyes turn to me. “Mase, you remember Raelynn from Saturday night?” Camila asks, clearly pointing me out.

  “Hmmm, yeah. That was quite an introduction.”

  “Thanks,” I mutter, still refusing to look their way.

  “I need to go and see the guys. You going to be okay?”

  “Of course. I’ll see you last period. Take it easy.”

  The sound of them kissing makes me cringe before he gets up as gently as he sat down and walks toward the team, closely followed by Shane, although he looks reluctant to join them all.

  “So what’s his story? Bad tackle?” I ask Camila when she turns back from watching her boyfriend’s ass walk away.

  “Car accident.”

  I feel a little bad for jumping to conclusions, but I don’t show it because I don’t give a shit what she thinks of me.

  “Listen—” she starts, turning her dark, assessing eyes on me.

  “No, I’m not sitting here listening to a lecture from Miss Goody Two Shoes. You don’t know me, nor will you get the chance to. You’re Ethan’s friend. I get it. You don’t want me making his life hard so he’s distracted from the game. Whatever. I don’t give a shit. You do you, and I’ll do me, and if we’re lucky, our paths won’t cross all that often.”

  Her chin drops at my words. I take her moment of silence to grab my tray and walk away with a smirk on my face.

  I’m not here to make any friends, and it’s about time that nosey bitches like Camila realized that.

  14

  Ethan

  I’d have put money on her selling me out to Mrs. Harris so I’m pleasantly surprised when I get through the day without being called in to explain myself for the note I wrote. It wasn’t pretty but I couldn’t refrain from playing with her.

  I’m just finishing a lap on the track when the girls come out onto the field for their gym class. I search through them. They’re all wearing skin-tight gym uniforms in the hope of attracting one of us. All apart from one. Her.

  A smirk pulls at my lips as I take in her oversized dirty shirt and the shorts that hang to her knees that have clearly been pulled from the spares cupboard. The ones we all dread wearing because they’ve been in there as long as the school’s been here and smell as such. I couldn’t have planned it better if I’d organized it myself.

  “Savage, pull your head from your pants and focus,” Coach calls.

  “Sorry,” I mutter, dragging my eyes away from the girls as they start warming up, most of them flaunting everything they have, trying to get us to look their way.

  Coach sets us off again, and after a while the girls head off on their cross-country route. I watch as they run, staring at their asses sway and their tits bounce, but no one really catches my attention until she runs past. She’s totally uncoordinated compared to the members of the cheer team who’ve sprinted off trying to show up the rest of the class. She’s right at the back and plodding along like it’s the worst day of her life.

  I chuckle as I turn the corner and up my speed, pushing myself to my l
imits as I try to outrun her.

  “Good, Savage. Use that aggression and push harder.”

  I put everything I have into my next lap, but the second the final lot of the girls come into view, I find I can’t help but look up. They all run past me but one, the one I want to see. When I look to where they all appeared from, I find her bent over with her hands on her knees and panting like she’s run a fucking marathon, not just the school’s cross-country track.

  “What’s wrong, trash? Weaker than you think?”

  Her eyes lift to find mine. They’re narrowed, her hate for me shining bright.

  “Maybe it won’t take as much for me to break you as I was expecting. At least put in a bit of a fight.” Fury fills her eyes as she sucks in deep lungsful of air.

  “I’ll outrun you if it kills me. You won’t break me.” She sounds so sure in herself but I don’t share her confidence. She might act like nothing can touch her, but I’ve seen the hint of fear that fills her eyes. I fucking crave it more than my next tackle. I will see it again, and I will see her break before me. I’ll put everything I have on it.

  With one final hard stare, she finds some energy from somewhere and heads back toward the rest of her class.

  I watch her progress as she makes her way across the field. Heat fills my veins that despite having a shit first day, largely thanks to me, she’s still going.

  Coach runs us ragged before dismissing the rest of our class but keeping the members of the team out on the field ready for practice to start.

  Mason comes out, albeit slowly, after class and eagerly listens to Coach’s pep talk before slinking back to the bleachers looking seriously pissed off at watching us all sweat out the weekend’s alcohol consumption to ensure we’re focused and ready for Friday night’s game. The first one of the playoffs. I should be fucking stoked, I guess I am to a point, but it’s not my main focus, thanks to my dad and his wayward fucking dick.

  Zayn slams into me when I’m not paying attention.

  “What the fuck, man?” he barks when I push back, slamming my hands down on his chest hard enough that he stumbles back. He’s still on my shit list for giving her weed on Saturday night.

  “Get out of my fucking face,” I spit.

  “That’s enough, Savage. Leave the bitch fights to the cheer squad, eh?”

  His warning is enough to stop me, but it doesn’t put a halt to the death stare I have trained on Zayn. “Stay the fuck away from her, you hear me?”

  “Loud and fucking clear. She’s really not your type though, dude.”

  “Did I fucking say she was?” I step toward him again, but this time it’s Jake that gets between us.

  “Fuck off, Zayn.” Jake stands in front of me, his hands on my shoulders. “I get it. I fucking get it.” An understanding passes between us. “But don’t let her fuck it up for you, for us. Keep her off the fucking field, yeah?”

  I want to kick back. I want to ask him if that’s what he did when Amalie was messing up his head, but I bite back the spiteful words because this thing with her is very different. Amalie was messing up Jake’s head because he wanted her. That is not the fucking issue I have right now. The only thing I want from the trash that’s moved into my house is her fucking gone. After you’ve got your hands on her, a little voice says in my head, but I push it down. I only want to get my hands on her to break her. To show her that she doesn’t belong here. My home is not where pieces of shit like her belong.

  By the time Coach lets us head for the locker room, my legs are like jelly. I’ve no doubt we’re going to kick ass on Friday night—he’s working us harder than ever knowing that it’s now or never.

  “We’ve fucking got this, boys. That fucking trophy is ours for the taking,” Jake shouts excitedly into the showers where we’re all washing off layers of sweat and mud.

  A chorus of agreement sounds out around the team, and when I look over, I find even Shane getting caught up in the excitement.

  “Who’s up for Aces? I need a fucking burger the size of my head,” Zayn calls.

  I’m not sure why he asks, it’s pretty much tradition at this point. Some of the guys make their excuses and fuck off once they’re dressed, but the normal crowd, plus Shane, all head toward the parking lot together to get in their cars.

  Mason is still with us, having watched the entire practice, although he’s starting to look a little worse for wear. It’s like he’s forgotten he was almost fucking killed a little over two weeks ago. I know he’s desperate to be part of our playoff games, but I’m worried he’s pushing himself too much too fast.

  “Um…” Shane starts looking totally uncomfortable. “My car’s in the garage, any chance of a lift?” He looks between the three of us, I think half expecting us to tell him where to go.

  I glance at Jake, his lips pressed into a thin line as he stares at Shane. We might now all know the truth about who drugged Amalie at his party, but he still doesn’t trust the guy. I get it, he was after Jake’s girl long before Jake pulled his head out of his ass and realized he wanted her.

  “Yeah, man. Ethan’s driving,” Mason says, gesturing to the back door.

  Shane nods but still looks hesitant, and the three of us pull open doors and jump inside.

  “Not like you to join us, Dunn,” Jake states, clearly not happy about it.

  “Thought maybe it was time I joined in,” Shane mumbles as he stares at the passing scenery.

  “Don’t you think it might be a little too late?” Jake barks.

  “Leave it, Thorn. Shane’s part of the team. He’s welcome wherever we are.”

  “Would never guess you’re banging his friend.”

  “Just the fuck up, Jake,” I add, helping both Mason and Shane out.

  He rolls his eyes but shuts his mouth.

  The rest of the journey is tense at best. I’m not sure what game Shane is playing, but Jake’s right with what he’s saying, this is weird as fuck.

  We pull up to Aces as the other guys do and pile out of the car. Shane immediately walks ahead, making me wonder who he’s really meeting here.

  The three of us hang back and allow the others to go ahead of us.

  “Well, that was fucking weird,” Mason says, echoing my previous thoughts.

  “Oh, I thought you were on Team Dunn all of a sudden.”

  “I just don’t think you need to be such a dick to him, he’s not actually a bad guy. Just odd that he’s suddenly latched on to us.”

  “He just wanted a free fucking lift.”

  “Whatever. Come on, I’m starving.”

  I march toward the entrance, Jake and Mason flanking my sides. I know they’re just as eager to get inside because their girls are there. I roll my eyes to myself that I’m going to have to spend the next however long watching them suck each other’s faces off and whisper sweet fucking nothings into their ears. Fucking pussies. I expected it from Mason. The way he and Camila fought like cat and fucking dog for years, I’m surprised it took so long. But Jake… I never thought he’d get pussy whipped, but he’s like a soppy fucking puppy where Amalie’s concerned.

  My steps falter the second I step foot inside the diner, causing Mason to crash into me.

  “Ow, fuck. Ouch,” he complains as a flash of dark hair runs past me to his side.

  I feel bad for causing him pain, but most of my mind is consumed with the fact that she’s standing over our usual table setting plates down.

  What the utter fuck is she doing here?

  15

  Raelynn

  By the time I finish that damn gym class, I’m a sweaty, hot, aching mess. The last thing I want to do is go and start my first shift at Aces. But knowing I can’t use Eric’s credit card for an Uber every morning to get myself to school, I force myself into the showers, ignoring the stares from the other girls around me wanting to know who I am and probably why I have ‘bitch’ written all over my face. Obviously, not literally, but I don’t need to be told I’ve got a fantastic resting bitch face. I se
e it in the mirror most days. Never more so than since moving here. I’m not here to make friends, and I need everyone to know it before they start trying.

  It works, because no one so much as asks my name. Fucking fine by me.

  I call another Uber and jump in out front of the school when it pulls up. Looking at how short the journey is, I could probably walk it, but my first day isn’t the time to show up late because I got lost. I already look a hot mess after doing a rush job of my makeup in the dirty, cracked school mirror I was left with after the cheer team monopolized the decent ones the second they pushed through the door into the locker room.

  I’m still wearing the same outfit I was earlier. The only change I’ve made is to pull on a shirt that covers my belly; I’m not sure anyone wants their burger delivered by a girl who can’t cover herself up appropriately.

  A wave of trepidation flows through me as I step into the diner and find almost the entire senior Rosewood class inside. If I knew this was the school hang out, I might have chosen another place to work. Acknowledging that it’s too late to worry about it now, especially as Bill’s just glanced up at me and smiled, I walk toward the register.

  “Good afternoon, Rae,” Bill sings. “You’re looking like a little ray of sunshine. Good first day?”

  I bark out a laugh at his description of me. We both know that I’m about as far away from sunshine as physically possible.

  “As far as first days go… I’ve had better.”

  He winces but thankfully says no more about it as he waves someone over. “Rae, this is Cody. Cody will be mostly working the same shifts as you, so he’s pulled the short straw to show you the ropes.”

  “Hey Rae, nice to meet you,” Cody says politely. I give him a quick once over from his sun-kissed shaggy surfer hair and down his slim, tall body. He’s hot.

  “You too.” He smiles at me and only gets better looking. If I had to guess, I’d say he was a little older, maybe at college.