“Hey, Eric. Christian.” Missy walked past us after winking at Eric, which I assumed was meant to be seductive, and headed for the lockers.
“You were saying?” I prodded, watching Eric lust after Missy’s swaying hips in her uniformed skirt.
Once I got to my locker and pulled on my navy blazer, a few other guys sauntered up to hear Eric’s story.
“God, she took her tongue and licked every drop of cum my dick spit out. Then, she went back for more. She was a wild animal in the bedroom. I’ve never been so into it before.”
Slamming my locker shut, I turned and looked at Eric. His eyes might as well have been glossed over while talking about Missy. Which was why I was going to say what I was about to say. “I’ve been sucked off by Missy before. It’s nothing to write home about.”
And just like that, Eric snapped out of it. He pulled his broad chest back and flexed his jaw. “Why do you always have to ruin it for me?”
The other guys chuckled and looked around at one another, most likely agreeing that I did, in fact, always ruin it for someone. There was a reason for my madness.
“Because while we’re throwing the football, trying to win a championship, your head will be in the clouds as Missy’s lips are around your dick. Love ‘em and leave ‘em, Eric. Focus on the game, not the player.” That wasn’t necessarily the reason I tried pulling him back from Missy. Eric got caught up in certain girls and was completely swallowed by them. He buried himself so deep in pussy and partying that I had a sense he was trying to escape something. I knew the feeling all too well.
He rolled his eyes as a few other people walked up to meet us at my locker, one of them being Madeline. If there were an actual hierarchy at English Prep, me being the king, then Madeline would have been the queen. That didn’t necessarily mean we were “together”, but everyone assumed, since she ruled the girls, that we were an item. We weren’t. I was very clear in the beginning with her: I didn’t have girlfriends. Madeline, however, was all about appearances and the queen should be with the king, Christian. Yeah, okay. What the fuck ever.
So, we were together for all intents and purposes: homecoming dances, prom, occasional keggers at Eric’s cabin.
“Did you hear?” Madeline interrupted Eric’s riveting story revolving around Missy’s pussy.
She cozied up to me and grabbed my arm, placing it on her shoulders. Her nails scraped along my skin as all eyes were on her, ready to eat up her gossip.
“Did we hear what?” one of Madeline's follower’s eyes grew wide, ready to hear whatever Madeline had to dish.
I stood back, my arm still stuck to her bony frame, and looked down the hall. My eyes scanned the shiny, silver lockers, glossing over the chess-club nerds standing awkwardly in their gray sweater vests. I passed by the smart girls who stared at our group like we were bullies on a playground (which we were). I was looking for Ollie, wondering if my father decided to wake him this morning or not.
Coming back to the present, I took my arm from Madeline.
That’s enough of a show today, don’t ya think? I said with my eyes as she gave me a glare. She quickly fixed her face and smiled, running her hands down her skirt and facing the group again. “Yep, that’s what I heard.”
Jace’s grin etched upward. “Good. I hope she’s a fuckin’ babe who has a talented mouth. She’ll be all over this.” He ran his hands down his body slowly, looking like a fucking idiot. What girls saw in him, I had no idea. He was a wannabe. His parents weren’t filthy rich like the rest of us; they were just wealthy enough for him to attend English Prep, which was why he tried so hard to fit in. The only reason he was in our group was because he played football. But nonetheless, a few of the girls started making catcalls and fanning themselves at his show.
Jace turned to Madeline. “What’s her name?”
I glanced down the hall again; still no sign of Ollie. Fucker better not be skipping school. He had a test in Chemistry today, and if he didn’t pass it, he’d be ineligible, and we fucking needed him on the team. He was fast as hell, and pairing that with my arm, we were likely to go to state. Coach would be so goddamn pissed if he skipped, and then I’d be the one who got chewed out.
The bell rang, drowning out Madeline’s answer to Jace, and we all were on our way to class. My pulse quickened as each second passed that Ollie wasn’t there. I pulled out my phone to text him when I took my seat in lit class, and that was when he walked in. The bags under his eyes were way worse than Eric’s, but that was what happened when you drank half a bottle of Fireball and ended up with Clementine.
If I was my father’s spitting image, Ollie was our mother’s. We looked nothing alike. I got my father's dark features, and he got my mother’s looks and personality. As a child, I was said to be shy. Then, when I grew older, I was often called out for appearing bored and uninterested. And now that I was only a few months from being an adult, people labeled me as brooding and a silent giant. Some even went as far as to say I had a dark and troubling soul, and who knew, that may have been correct after what happened with Mom. But Ollie? He was my mother, through and through. Sunny, radiant, the life of the party. Always. Even in his worst mood, he was still a bundle of fucking joy. It got to be annoying at times, but it was a nice reminder of her, and I didn’t get those very often.
Ollie’s blond hair looked darker as it was still damp from his shower, and his shirt was unbuttoned at the top with his tie hanging loosely around his neck. When he slammed into his desk, he whirled around and fixed me with a glare. “Fucker.”
I barked out a laugh. “You’re the fucker who made me pull your ass out of Eric’s parents’ room with your pants down to your ankles last night.”
A smile broke out along his face. “I’m so fucking pissed I got that drunk. I can’t even remember hooking up with Clem, but dammnnnn, the texts she already sent this morning.” He looked up to the ceiling and mouthed a silent prayer, his hands coming together in the typical prayer hand manner.
“You need to be careful drinking that much, Ol.” I bent my head down, keeping my voice low.
“Relax, brother. I’m fine,” he muttered, pulling out his books. “You’re not gonna believe who I saw in the office this morning.”
I leaned back in my seat, fiddling with my pencil. “Who?”
As soon as the words left my mouth, the classroom door opened. My head turned in the direction of Ms. Boyd.
And just like that…
My blood boiled.
My fists clenched.
My jaw locked.
What the fuck is she doing here?
Ollie turned back to me and raised an eyebrow.
“Hayley Smith. That’s who.”
The organ in my chest thumped harder as my eyes passed over every inch of her body. It had been years since I’d seen her, but I’d recognize her anywhere. She had those eyes. Those piercing, suck-your-soul, icy-blue eyes. But just because her eyes were their normal color, that didn’t mean she was the same girl. The same girl I used to trade my cookies with at lunch. The same girl that poured glue on Rebecca Lahey’s hair for telling her that she was a tomboy. She wasn’t the same girl. Not by a longshot.
There was something broken about her. I recognized it almost immediately. Broken recognizes broken.