I consider her, just as she had done to me, and I realize that I feel the same way. I like her. She seems like the right person to have on my side if I’m going to take Slade Cruz down. The only question is why? I don’t understand it. Why did he come at me like that? I barely walked through the door two minutes ago. It’s not like I could have offended him yet. I haven’t slept with anyone’s boyfriend and I haven’t thrown red dye at anyone’s bleached hair. Is he protecting someone? Himself? I don’t know, but I’m going to find out.
“You know what?” I tell Maze, turning to face back down the corridor and pick up my pace. “I think I’ll give you a shot.”
“Really?”
“Only if you lose that peppy, school spirit vibe you’ve got going.”
“Sorry, I get a little excited sometimes.”
“I see,” I tell her, slipping my class schedule out of my jeans pocket. “Now first, tell me where the hell I need to go, and then you can give me all the dirt you’ve got on Slade Cruz.”
Maze’s face brims with a devilish excitement. “It’ll be my pleasure.”
I grin back at my new friend, feeling somewhat proud of myself. Apparently, Blake doesn’t need to worry about me after all. I’ve made a friend just as I promised and all before the first class of the day.
Aston Creek High isn’t going to be the fresh start I was hoping for, but maybe there’ll be some hidden treasures along the way.
———-
I walk into the cafeteria, glancing around the tables as I go. Every school is always the same. On the right we have the cheer table where you require a fucking golden pussy to be able to sit down, then there are the secret drug addicts, the loud and proud drug addicts, the debbie downers, and of course, the mean girls. To my left, we see three tables of jocks; football, swimming, and basketball. There’re the man-sluts, the girl-sluts, and then there’s Slade Fucking Cruz.
His eyes pierce into mine with a lethal stare that almost makes me lose my breath. How is it possible for a man to have this effect on me? He’s a nobody, just some guy who happened to step in front of the wrong locker this morning.
I can’t figure out if he was lucky or if I was lucky that we’ve made it through to lunch and still avoided being in any of the same classes. Surely, it wouldn’t have ended well, and don’t get me wrong, I’m all for a showdown, but there’s only so much the teachers will put up with on a girl’s first day. Despite how much I don’t want to be here, I kind of need it.
I still can’t get past the way Slade looked at me this morning. I’ve never felt ugly in my life. The woman who raised me made sure I knew to always look my best, always be the most beautiful in a room. Even as an awkward teen, I still felt like the prettiest girl in my class…until now. He looked at me with such distaste, it’s as though casting his eyes upon my body was a chore, it was like he found me repulsive and for some reason, it doesn’t sit well with me.
I don’t understand it. There have been plenty of times where I haven’t been a guy’s cup of tea. I couldn’t seal the deal with Brandon Sylvester at sixteen and he told me point blank it was because he didn’t like the way I looked. It crushed me, but I never questioned myself. I never let it affect my self-esteem, but one wrong look from some dick I just met and my ugly ego decides to rear its stupid head.
I join the long queue of students waiting to get themselves something mortifyingly horrible to eat when a large body steps into my back. “What do you want, Blake?” I grumble, not bothering to turn around as the smell of his cologne singes my nostrils.
“I heard you made a friend.”
“I heard you’ve already screwed Kathleen Harris in the handicap bathroom.”
Blake chuckles at my back and I feel the vibrations right through my chest. I let out a sigh as I realize the rumor is true. “What can I say?” he says with a smile in his tone. “I’m not one for turning down a good opportunity, and believe me, it was definitely a good opportunity.”
“Yuck, Blake,” I groan, slamming my elbow back into his stomach and enjoying the way he doubles over, clutching his stomach. “How can you be such a whore at sixteen?”
“Call it a gift,” he tells me, stepping in beside me. “I heard something else about you.”
“Really? What a surprise. It’s only been half a day and the rumor mill has been going strong. What are the peasants saying about me now?”