Chapter 10 #2
"Dalton is waiting for you in classroom 315 to give you the grand tour. Stay out of the spotlight, don't get in our way, and be a good girl." Logan smirks like the ass he is and climbs out of the car without another glance back at me as he makes his way across the packed parking lot.
Damn him. Heads turn as he walks by, guys nodding in that weird way but eye him cautiously at the same time.
Girls adjust their already short tops so they lay a little lower and flutter their fake lashes.
Fake tans, bottle hair dye, and high heels pretty much describe the girls in a California high school.
Logan is surrounded in seconds with an easy grin and throwing an arm over some blonde, big breasted chick.
Jealousy flares in my stomach, catching me off guard because I've never, ever had this feeling for a guy before. At least Nicky just walks by his friend's side, all cool and collected, pushing away any girl that slides up to him. Why do I care? I don’t know or own these guys. They’re all assholes.
"There, there, little dove, don't take it so personally. Lo jumps from girl to girl. Let's get you inside because I have shit to do," Tey says, hopping out and opening the door for me while pulling a joint from his pocket and lighting up without a care in the world.
Guess the rules don't apply to these guys.
I take a deep breath and follow a high Tey towards the school double doors, ignoring the curious glances shooting our way.
If looks could kill, I’d be dead a hundred times over by now.
Way too many girls are glaring at me as if I stole their favorite lipstick.
I straighten my spine and walk with my head held high, I don’t owe these people anything.
I almost lose Tey in the crowd of teenagers hanging by their lockers, shuffling in the tight hallways towards their morning classes before the bell rings.
I hate the stares, the leer from the guys as I move along with the student body.
It feels like walls are closing in around me as the panic starts to set in.
Loud male laughter rings out as my gaze flickers around, drawing my attention to a group of jocks at the end of the hall surrounding a locker.
Three sets of male eyes are on me, like a pack of animals at a watering hole.
One in particular jock with red hair in a jersey slides his slimy brown gaze up and down my body with a cocky grin.
Tall, muscular, and a guy who thinks women belong on their knees, a typical school bully jock.
I know men like him ooze confidence because they think a woman will never say no to them, I'm the new meat in their territory.
Shit.
A muscular chest and broad shoulders covered in a soft cotton black t-shirt blocks the jocks’ view as a wave of dizziness comes over me. A single finger tilts my chin up, making me look into arctic ocean eyes.
"It's a playground of wild, horny animals. Vicious and deadly. Welcome to Beverly Hills High," Tey mutters with a lazy grin, his bright blonde hair falling over his eyes, hiding that all too knowing gaze from me.
"You’re really fucking crazy aren't you?" I eye him with a raised brow, seeing so much he tries to hide behind the weed, the loneliness.
I don't think anyone really knows the real Tey and lucky me is seeing his true colors that are hidden behind a mask I want to peel off his perfect face.
"Only the craziest, baby," he whispers so only I can hear and leans forward, skimming his nose along my neck with a deep inhale before stepping back.
"See you later, starfish. Room 315. Dalton has your schedule.
" He turns away, leaving me to find the fucking class alone and the Hell’s Angels son, aka Dalton.
Without him invading my space, it's like a bubble popped and the noise returns. The mutters and bangs of lockers almost make me jump, forgetting for a second that we were standing in the middle of the crowded hall while classmates walk by staring. I shake my head at his retreating back and the silliness of the nicknames he’s been using for me.
I kind of like them. They’re not as annoying and I look forward to seeing what other ridiculous nicknames he will come up with.
Glancing around, I swear under my breath, noticing every goddamn person is gawking at me like I’m a freaking leper. A lanky, nerdy guy with a Star Wars shirt hanging loose on him, walks by with his head down as he clenches his bookbag strap in a death grip and pushes his glasses up his nose.
Perfect. I don’t need another towering, all ripped muscles jerk over my shoulder, and he looks nice enough.
“Hey!” He jumps at my overly excited outburst and jerks his head up, looking behind him left and right to see if I’m talking to him.
“Me?” He asks softly, all shy, his hazel eyes big behind his glasses.
“Yeah, you. Do you mind pointing me in the direction of room 315?” I ask, pulling him out of the way by the strap of his bag as one of those ass jocks walk by, about to bump into him.
“Watch where you’re going freak.” The douche jock sneers, both of us choosing to ignore him.
“S-sure, it’s uh, on the second floor. I’ll um, walk you there if you’d like?” I actually find his blush adorable and the slight stutter.
I just really want to hug the guy, which by the way, I’m not a hugger of any type but he feels safe. He doesn’t look like he wants anything from me but maybe friendship. He hasn’t once stepped into my space or looked at my body.
Dear God, is it possible for me to have a male friend?
“That would be great! I’m Tillie.” I smile softly, just staring directly at him and raise an eyebrow as he continues to stand there, pushing those big glasses up his nose nervously.
“Oh, yeah, I’m Evan. Let’s go before I’m uh, late for physics.” He practically squeaks and turns on his converse in the opposite direction.
I follow by his side, noticing how empty the halls are becoming, and dreading the whole new girl act. I’ll cut someone if they make me stand in front of the class to tell my life story. I don’t care if I’m starting in the middle of the school quarter, my story is my own.
“Listen, you might not want to be caught walking with me again unless you want to be thrown in a locker, a toilet swirl, or tossed into the dumpster after school. Here’s the class, it was nice, um, meeting you,” he says nervously, looking away in embarrassment until he notices that I haven’t said a thing, and glances back at me with a confused expression.
The hallways are clear of moving bodies as we stand outside of the closed door of classroom 315.
I’m about to do something scary, so unlike me, that it catches me off guard.
Quicker than he can react, I grab his shoulders and hug him like a favorite stuffed animal.
His surprised squeak makes me giggle and I know I’ve hit my limit when my body stiffens as a memory tries to break through.
I release him and keep my hands on his shoulders so he looks me in the eye.
“We’re going to be the best of friends. Thank you for being so kind, and I’ll look for you at lunch so we can see what classes we have together. Save me a seat.” His mouth drops open and I have to bite my lip to hold my laughter inside.
He stands there, nodding his head like a bobblehead and I have to turn him around, giving him a small push to get him moving.
Shaking my head once he’s gone, I face the classroom, my nails biting into my fist because I’m not sure how I’m going to react with another biker from a different club on the other side of this door.
With a deep breath, I grab the handle and throw the door open before I lose my nerve but stop cold at what greets my eyes.
My body won’t move, I’m half in the doorway staring at the big muscled giant.
Dalton, I’m assuming. He looks like the cocky type.
I swear the guy is at least seven feet tall, twinkling violet eyes staring unblinking into mine as he leans back against the teacher’s desk.
Black hair shaved on the side but longer hair slicked back on the top of his head, his skin a beautiful, rich, light brown that makes his eyes hypnotizing.
Everything about this guy is broad, big, and I’m pretty sure his muscles have muscles that make his black shirt and leather cut mold to his barrel chest. It’s the slow lopsided smile spreading across his face that makes my eyes narrow.
The woman between his legs stopped me for a second but if he thought this sight would scare me away or shock me, he’s completely wrong.
Not even when he makes the older woman, who has to be the teacher, keep bobbing her head.
What is with these guys who think they can walk all over me, control me with the power they obviously have over everyone else but me?
Challenge accepted fucker.
Stepping into the room, I slam the door shut behind me loudly, trying not to smile as the woman jumps and is about to turn around but his big hand holds her in place on the back of her neck.
If this is Dalton, I’m not impressed, time to show these asses that a girl who’s been through things worse than death can rise from the ashes.
I stalk forward on quiet feet without showing any emotions on my face.
Game on.