Micah
Alora aims a frown at me as I enter precalc. I wonder what that must be about. Thank fuck she sits a few rows over from me with Aria so I won’t be subjected to whatever the hell her deal is. Not yet, anyway. She’s in government with me after lunch, and judging by the nasty expression on her face, I’ll be suffering later, for sure.
Speaking of Aria, when Alora isn’t looking, she holds her finger up to the side of her blonde head and makes circular motions near her temple. With the other hand, she points at Alora and grimaces. I can just make out what she mouths at me. Cuckoo.
Yeah, I’m aware. I nod once and roll my eyes.
Beau elbows me in the ribs.
“Fuck, man. Cut that shit out.” I wince, pressing a hand to the sore spot.
“Sorry. Did you see Aria just now? Fucking hilarious.” He shakes his head, trying not to laugh out loud.
“Yep. She’s not wrong, though.” I’ve always been curious what Aria’s deal is. She commands the respect of her cheer squad, but I don’t think any of the girls she hangs out with are actually her friends. This is another prime example. She knows that Alora is slowly but surely losing her grip on reality, and it amuses Aria to no end.
My gaze slides over to the demon creature beside her. You’d think winning the homecoming crown would have toned down Alora’s crazy, but it hasn’t. In fact, I’d say she’s worse than ever, and unfortunately, I can only come to the same conclusion I’ve been at for a while now. Appearances are the be-all and end-all for her, so when I removed my dick from her selection of available toys, it sent her right off the fucking deep end. It’s only a matter of time before she decides it would be more fun to show people the video she has instead of holding it over my head.
If it didn’t have the potential to damage and embarrass Daph, I’d tell Alora to fucking get it over with and do her worst.
Throughout the class period, I can feel Alora’s beady little eyes boring into the side of my head. I choose to keep my gaze locked on Ms. Murphy at the front of the classroom or down at my notes and nowhere else, even though I’m not paying full attention to the lesson.
I dip my head slightly toward Beau. “Dude. You have to stall Alora on the way out. I don’t want to sit with her scheming ass during lunch.”
He clears his throat, eyeing Alora over his shoulder for a quick second, then murmurs, “I’ll see what I can do.”
“Thanks.”
When the bell rings, I scoop my shit up and take off as quickly as I can without it looking unnatural. I wait outside the door for Aria to exit.
Completely unsurprised to find me waiting for her, she jerks her head as if I should come with her. “Your girl is about to throw a bitch fit.”
I huff out a laugh. “No, my girl is fine, despite all of Alora’s petty stunts. Listen, I need a favor.”
She gives a little snort. “Are you sure you want to be indebted to me, Micah?” She lifts a perfectly sculpted brow.
“If it ends Alora’s psycho behavior toward Daphne, then yes.”
It’s become clear there is only one way out of this, and to do it, I need help. Even if it means I owe Aria. And I have a feeling I’m going to owe her big for this one. If she agrees and can do what I’m asking, it could fix everything.
A shrill whistle signals the end of practice. I pull off my helmet and dump what’s left in my water bottle over my head.
Beside me, Xander presses his lips together. “Don’t look now, but here comes trouble.”
One glance down the sidelines tells me he’s right. Carter and Shayne walk toward me wearing smug-as-fuck grins on their faces. I’ve steered clear of them today because I know the second either of them says something, I’m going to want to knock some teeth loose. I inhale sharply through my nose and prepare for the worst.
Shayne slaps Carter on the shoulder as they pass and murmurs just loudly enough for me to hear—on fucking purpose, no doubt—“I heard he’s got one more strike and then he’s off the team.”
“Too bad the scouts are due in next week for the game,” Carter snickers loudly.
Xander pivots to face me, his brow lifting as he searches my face.
I shake my head. “Nope. I would have told you if I had a problem like that.”
Beau walks toward us, shoulder-checking Carter along the way. He yanks his helmet off, running a hand through this sweaty hair. “Those dickheads really deserve more than they got. I seriously hope Coach has more in store for them beyond running fucking laps after practice for a week.” His gaze follows them as they jog around the track—Coach’s orders.
Xander shrugs. “One would hope.” He pins his gaze on me. “You said Coach knows the deal, right?”
“Yeah. He had no real problem with me or Griff. I mean, he wasn’t fucking happy about a throwdown in his locker room, but he understood why it happened. And Griff and I still have to run laps, too.” I shake my head, disgusted. “I don’t know what sort of fucking game they think they’re playing insinuating that I’m the one who’s close to being kicked off the team. And I also can’t imagine what they said to their parents or Gilmore about why they got roughed up. Does anyone seriously think Griff or I randomly decided to kick their asses?”