But they’ll never guess my secret. The reason I always appear so carefree. The trick is loving nothing.
The only love I have is reserved for myself and the select few I grant my real attention to—Bishop, my aunt and uncle, Lucas, and Gemma. That’s all my black, twisted heart has the capacity to care about. Everyone else? Useless pawns to use up and toss aside when they’ve served their purpose.
Blair Davis is going to serve a very specific purpose by playing on my court.
“Hey, bro.” Bishop knocks his shoulder into mine.
We’re off from practice today. Bishop has his up to no good look on. My mouth curves.
The girls laugh with Trent and Sean, hanging off their arms. Nina, the peroxide-blonde with big tits that hung all over me in English as I shredded Blair’s essay, flashes me a hooded leer. It’s her secret code for begging for a ride on my dick. A pleading look I haven’t answered this year. I’m not interested in her fake moans and her obsession with the notoriety of my parents’ national medical research firm.
“Where are we going today? Peak Point?” Trent asks as he untucks his shirt and loosens his school tie. His blazer is off, tossed over his shoulder.
He’s one of those idiots that thinks he has the entire market on swagger, but he’s really just like any other wannabe at this school—covered in Axe spray, always searching for willing pussy, and waving his mom’s black card around. Sean’s a little more bearable, but he’s a follower with no original thoughts. It’s like someone stuck a hand up his ass, shut off his brain, and controlled his mouth.
Nina clicks her tongue. “Please, what are you, a freshman? No senior girl wants to go to Peak Point to make out with you.” She shoves her manicured hand in Trent’s face, the gold bangles on her wrist clinking. “Do better, darling.”
Irritation simmers beneath my skin. Everything feels tighter, but maybe that’s the way my fists are balled in the pockets of my slacks.
“We should drive to Denver and raise hell.” They want something devilish to excite them? I’ll give it to them. My gaze finds Bishop’s. “In the principal’s Escalade.”
Bishop’s brows hike up and a whoop leaves him. He slaps me on the back. “Hell yes. Now you’re talking. My old man will flip his shit when he tries to leave campus today.”
Nina and her friend, Bailey, giggle into their hands.
“Where will we go?” Bailey asks.
Idle boredom leads to temptation. We’re all craving something that makes us feel alive.
“We’ll head for the university.” I make sure Nina is paying attention before stepping into Bailey’s space. She’s not as short as Blair, but still much shorter than me. I slip my fingers into her soft wavy hair as she gazes up at me, star-struck. “Then we’ll find a party to crash.”
When I peek at Nina from the corner of my eye, hers are narrowed and her arms are folded tight beneath her breasts. You don’t own me, sweetheart. I wink at Nina, selling it like the playboy flirt they all know me as. It feels like more of a mask this year than ever before. She pouts and threads her fingers with Sean’s.
I almost laugh. She can’t make me jealous. I’d need to want her for that to work.
“Oh,” Bailey breathes, leaning closer to me without subtlety.
I drop my hand and turn to Bishop. “Stash all the cars at the lake and we’ll ride over in one of my dad’s cars.”
“Yeah, perfect,” Bishop agrees with a knowing look.
We’ll get at both of our fathers with one stone.
Bishop turns to address the group, hands up. “All right, people. You heard our Devil Boy. Hop to it, chop chop.”
He claps his hands. As everyone spurs into action to follow our lead, I hang back. Bishop waits with me. Once the puppets are far enough down the steps, we begin our descent without anyone to eavesdrop.
“What else do you know about Davis?” I mutter, glancing in the direction she drove off in.
Ahead of us, the girls have run to their cars and Trent honks his horn while he peels out of the lot, Sean not far behind him. The girls howl like coyotes as other students watch their antics.
Bishop shrugs, raking a hand through his hair. He’s distracted by whatever he’s looking at on his phone. I smack his arm with my knuckles.
“Not much, dude.” It seems to take him a lot of effort to put his phone away. My eyes narrow. He’s as addicted to the damn thing as anyone I know, but something’s off. Bishop ticks off on his fingers. “Outside of the school records and the backlog of forms I gave you the code for, she’s like a ghost. I asked around, but your little lady is only known around here as a charity case for the school district’s economic diversity quota.”
My mouth pulls to the side as we reach the parking lot. I was worried he would say that.
We all immediately hated Blair on sight for not belonging.