Chapter 22
“Get your ass in the car or I’m leaving without you,” Braden yells, banging on my bedroom door.
“I’m coming!” I yell back. “Just give me a minute!”
It’s Tuesday morning, the first day of class.
I’m staring at myself in the mirror in this stupid uniform.
Black pleated skirt. White polo with the school’s green and black emblem on it.
Ugly white shoes. I can’t believe I have to wear this.
If Axl saw me right now, he wouldn’t be able to stop laughing.
A text pops up from Jackson.
Ready for your first day?
Not really, I text back.
Bet you look hot in the uniform.
I smile.
I look ridiculous.
Send me a pic.
I snap a shot and send it to him.
Shit. Bad idea.
Why? I text, concerned I really do look stupid in this uniform. I was thinking I looked okay in it, but maybe not.
Thinking of you in that? I won’t be able to concentrate today.
Smiling even more, I text him back.
Don’t I get a pic?
One pops up on my phone. Jackson’s wearing jeans and a tight red t-shirt, his muscles on display, along with his perfect smile.
No fair. You look better than me.
Not even close.
You look more comfortable.
I’d have to agree. Talk to you later.
Yeah. Bye!
I’m not sure when I’ll have a chance to talk to him.
I have class until four, which is the latest I’ve ever had class.
I’m used to getting out at two, not four.
By four, Jackson will be at football practice.
And later tonight, he’ll be at the gym. I could try sneaking out when everyone’s asleep, but the cameras will catch me, which wouldn’t be an issue if Trystan wasn’t watching all the footage for evidence that I’m doing something he doesn’t approve of.
He definitely wouldn’t approve of me sneaking out to see Jackson.
“I’m leaving!” Braden yells. “Have fun walking!”
“I said I’m coming!” I swing open the door and run right into a solid wall of muscle.
Braden looks down at me, smiling. “You just can’t stop touching me, can you?”
“You’re so disgusting.” I push on him to move, but he just stands there. I glare at him. “Thought you were in a hurry.”
“I am, but first we go over the rules.”
I back up, my hand on my hip. “What rules?”
“How you’ll act at school.”
“I’ll act how I want.”
He narrows his eyes at me. “You’re not fucking things up for me.”
“And how would I do that?”
“With your shitty New York attitude.”
“I thought you were king of the school. I’m the new girl. I doubt I could knock you off your pedestal.”
“I doubt you could either.” He gets in my face. “But don’t even try.”
“Are we going or what?”
He turns and walks off, leaving me to follow behind. When we’re out in the driveway, he points to his Porsche. “Back seat.”
“Why would I sit in the back?”
“Wyatt gets the front.”
We get in the car.
“We’re picking someone up?” I ask.
“Just today. His car’s in the shop.”
“Where’s Trystan?”
“Already left. After today, you’ll be going with him. Today you get the privilege of riding with me so enjoy it.” He looks at me in the mirror and smirks.
“Why’d Trystan leave early?” I ask as we go down a street I’ve never been on before. It’s lined with huge, expensive homes.
“Soccer team went out for breakfast. They do it every year on the first day of class.”
“Doesn’t the season start later?”
“Yeah, but they start training soon. Trystan’s team captain.”
“Did you ever play soccer?”
“Tried it. Didn’t like it.” He stops abruptly and turns into the driveway of a large two-story house with lion statues on each side of the front door. “The shithead better not make us wait.”
“Is this a guy on your team?”
He ignores my question as a guy comes out of the house. He’s tall with blond hair that flops on his forehead as he walks.
Braden gets out of the car. “What the fuck? I’ve been waiting ten minutes!”
“Liar,” the guy says, coming around to the passenger side.
Braden gets back in, shoving the guy in the shoulder. “Where the hell were you this morning?”
“I overslept.”
“Get a better alarm. You don’t fucking miss practice. Ever!” he yells.
“Yeah. Got it,” the guy mutters.
“I mean it,” Braden says. “There’s gonna be punishment if you do.”
The guy looks at him. “Coach said that?”
“I did. Coach doesn’t know shit. Letting his players miss practice is why we didn’t win last year. And there’s not gonna be any missed workouts either. It’s two a day until the season ends.”
“Who made you the fucking decision maker?”
Braden slams on the brakes and turns to the guy. “You want to fight me on this? I thought you wanted to win.”
“Doesn’t mean you have to be a damn drill sergeant.”
“It’s the only way we’ll beat those fuckers at Legion. You know how much time they spend at the gym?”
The guy doesn’t answer.
“Twice as much as us,” Braden says, continuing down the street. “Novak is more like three times. So yeah, I’m gonna bust the ass of every guy on the team.”
Novak. Just hearing his name takes me back to that kiss. I can still feel his lips. His hands cupping my face. His body pressed against mine.
“Rumor!” Braden barks, startling me.
“What?”
“Meet Wyatt.”
“Hey,” I say, lacking enthusiasm.
He glances back at me. “Hey.”
Braden gives me a look in the rearview mirror.
A look that says I need to be nice to his friends.
Normally, I’d tell him to fuck off but doing that would ruin the plan.
I need to remember I’m playing a role here.
The new student who wants to fit in, and not just with anyone, but with Braden’s crowd. The most popular kids at school.
Leaning up toward Wyatt, I smile and say, “So what position do you play?”
“Defensive end.” He turns back. “You know about football?”
“Not really, but I’m sure I’ll learn going to Braden’s games.”
“You’re going to my games?” Braden asks.
“Of course. Gotta support my school. And I want to see you play.”
A smug smile fills his face. “You mean win. We don’t just play. We win.” He looks over at Wyatt. “Or I do. The rest of you fuckers are just along for the ride.”
“You’re full of shit,” Wyatt says. “We all work our asses off.”
“How many hours a day do you guys work out?” I ask.
“Three,” Braden says.
“But with classes starting it’ll be more like two,” Wyatt adds.
“We’re not changing it,” Braden tells him. “We’re staying at three.”
“We don’t have time. We’re in school half the day.”
Braden stops at a light and glares at Wyatt. “We’ll make time. We’re not cutting back on our workouts.”
“What about practice?” I ask. “How long does that take?”
“Usually two hours in the morning and two at night,” Braden says.
“That’s a lot,” I say. “Doesn’t leave time for anything else.”
“What else is there?”
“Parties. Friends. A social life. Don’t you want time for that too?”
“We have all that,” Wyatt says. “People do it for us. We just show up.”
“What do you mean?”
“He means we rule the school,” Braden says. “Everyone wants to be us but since they can’t, they want to be around us. They plan the parties. Buy the booze. Whatever we want, they do it for us so we can focus on the game.”
“Do you have a girlfriend?” I ask Wyatt.
He smiles at Braden. “Do I?”
Braden laughs. “Not after last weekend. Sorry, bro, but I can’t save you when you’re that stupid.”
“What happened?” I ask.
“Wyatt was making out with some girl with his girlfriend in the other room.”
“You could’ve told me she was there,” Wyatt says.
“Was this at a party?” I ask.
“Yeah. At Kristen’s house.” Braden looks at Wyatt. “Was Kristen even there?”
“I didn’t see her.”
“Me either. Anyway, dumbass here,” he nods toward Wyatt, “tried to tell his girlfriend he was too drunk to know what he was doing but she didn’t buy it.”
“Braden was supposed to back me up, but he didn’t.”
“Because your excuse was stupid.” Braden turns down the road that goes to the school. “It was time to be done with her anyway.”
“I’m running out of people to date.”
“Then stop dating. Do what I do.”
Wyatt shakes his head. “My fucking dad would kill me.”
“Why?” I ask. “What does Braden do?”
“None of your damn business,” Braden says.
“So the party was at Kristen’s house?” I ask, wanting to know more about his earlier comment.
“Not the one here,” Wyatt says. “The one in San Diego.”
“She has two houses?”
Wyatt chuckles. “More like seven or eight. The one in San Diego is the smallest. Her mom only keeps it as an investment. Nobody lives there so Kristen uses it as a party house.”
“And her mom doesn’t care?”
Wyatt shrugs. “She probably does. We tend to destroy shit at parties. This last one, someone broke the chandelier. The thing was huge. Came crashing down all over the entryway.”
Braden laughs. “Wish someone got that on video.”
“You said Kristen wasn’t there?” I ask.
“She might’ve made an appearance, but she didn’t stick around,” Wyatt says.
“Then why’d she have the party?”
“Because everyone expects her to. She’s like the girl version of Braden.” He chuckles as he says it.
“I don’t get it.”
“She’s at the top,” Braden explains. “She makes the rules for the girls like I make the rules for the guys.”
“And people listen to her?”
“They have to. She has the power. If she has a party, everyone goes, even if she’s not there.”
“Why is she so popular?”
We’re at school now, parked right next to the front door. The lot is nearly full, and yet this spot was open, like it was reserved for Braden.
He gets out of the car and says something to a guy walking by. He never answered my question. Is Kristen only popular because she’s richer than anyone else? Or is it some other reason?
If she’s that popular, what’s she doing hanging out with Jackson, a Legion guy? Isn’t spending time with him betraying her school? Or is it somehow okay because he’s rich and used to go here?
“Hurry up,” Braden says, opening my door.
I grab my backpack and get out. I close the door, hear the lock click, and turn to follow Braden.
“Stay there,” he orders.
“Why?”
“You’re not going in with me.”
“Why not?”