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“Why do you give a shit what they think?”

“I don’t give a shit what they think,” I whisper-shout. “But I also don’t want to give them any more fodder. I’m sick of the bullshit. I don’t need any extra drama in my life. I never asked for any of it. All I want is to go to class, get good grades, and be invisible.”

Kingston stares at me for a moment. “Jazz, one thing you could never be is invisible.”

I scoff. “I don’t see why—”

“Yo, Jazzy Jazz,” Bentley interrupts, swinging his arm over my shoulders. “What’s all the fuss about this morning? I heard you were playing tonsil hockey in the parking lot with this asshole.” He jerks his chin toward Kingston, who’s pinning him with a glare. “I was trying to get some morning head behind the gym but all the boujee bitches in the house were too busy gossiping. You two lovebirds are ruining my game.”

“Fuck off, Fitzgerald,” Kingston snaps.

Bentley laughs. “Calm down there, big guy. I’m just stating the facts.” He leans down to whisper in my ear. “You know, if you’re looking for someone to make out with, I’d be happy to volunteer as tribute. You don’t need to put up with this broody bastard if you want some lovin’.”

I push him away with a smile, despite my best intentions to keep a straight face. “Shut up, you idiot.”

Bentley gasps dramatically. “Ouch, new girl. That hurts.” When the warning bell rings, he places a quick kiss on my cheek. “Gotta go, babe. See you at lunch.”

Bentley laughs when Kingston flips him off.

“Get your shit and let’s go,” he growls.

I narrow my eyes. “Stop bossing me around.”

“Stop being so fucking stubborn.”

I punch in the code to open my locker, grab composition notebooks for my first two classes and a calculator. I shove them in my bag and slam the door shut.

Kingston is glued to my side as I walk to statistics, but I’m so irritated with him, I say nothing. I know pretty much every set of eyes are on us, but I ignore them as well. I’m almost relieved when we get to my class and Kingston takes off, until I step into the room and see that people are no less curious than they were in the hallway. I’m sure they’re all just as dumbfounded as I am, wondering why Kingston went from bullying me one day, to making out with me in the parking lot. Then, you have Bentley, who won’t stop openly flirting with me and pressing his lips to my cheek every chance he gets.

What was I thinking accepting a ride from Kingston this morning? I should’ve known better after what happened yesterday, but I was riding on such a high from seeing my sister when he mentioned it, I agreed without any regard for consequence. I need to put a stop to this. I need to distance myself from Kingston, no matter how pushy he is or how attracted I am to him. I pull out my phone when I get to my desk and surreptitiously text Ainsley, asking for a ride home. I sigh in relief when she immediately agrees.

With that settled, I open my Chromebook and notebook, ready to begin class.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

 

; JAZZ

On my way to lunch, I stop in the ladies’ room to relieve my aching bladder. After doing my business and washing my hands, I’m just about to head into the dining hall when three snobby bitches saunter in, claws ready to lash out. No, make that... five... seven... ten. As the last one enters, she locks the door behind her. I recognize a few of them from classes we share, but not some of the younger looking ones.

Shit.

No matter how scrappy I can be, ten-to-one odds aren’t good for anyone.

I paste false bravado on my face as I address Peyton, the obvious ringleader of this little confrontation.

“What do you want, Peyton?”

“Hmm, now isn’t that a loaded question?” she muses, tapping her chin in thought. “Well, for starters, I’d like you to drop dead just like your mommy.”

Her words rob me of breath. It doesn’t surprise me that she would use my mother to hurt me, but it definitely has the intended effect. I can’t let that distract me though—I need to get the hell out of this bathroom.

I sigh in mock boredom. “Look, Peyton. I’m not really in the mood to deal with you and your merry band of bitches. Why don’t you just say what you came in here to say and we can all be on our way?”

She smiles coldly. “Now, where’s the fun in that?”

My phone buzzes from the pocket inside my blazer. I’m sure it’s Ainsley wondering where the hell I am, but I’m not going to risk taking my attention away from Peyton to check.


Tags: Laura Lee Windsor Academy Romance