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“Benedict. If you want to flaunt your relationship, do it at the fucking party tonight,” Jeremy snarls. “Oh, right. Freaks weren’t invited.”
A few guys chuckle while some girls giggle teasingly.
“Benedict,” Coach Hennessy interrupts. “Go back to your group unless you’re gonna get Prescott to show some wit in today’s class.”
“I can get my girl to do anything, Coach,” Zander says, as if he’s carrying a badge of honor in his grasp. I just keep focusing on eating my treat. “What’s the big deal, anyway? We ain’t betting on shit, are we?”
“So, there needs to be a bet before you’re gonna put the effort in Coach’s class?” Jeremy taunts with an eye roll. “If you’re going to half-ass the class, go sit on the bench.”
“For an assistant who probably can’t run a mile, you sure talk a lot of shit.”
All eyes are on me, the words leaving my mouth before I even comprehend it.
God, I need to learn to shut my mouth.
“What did you say, you bit?—”
“Now I know you ain’t about to say something insulting to our woman, Totts.”
I frown and slowly look to my left to see Ares is now standing next to me. I didn’t even sense his presence.
“Coach, can we crash your class session? Sprints are too easy. That’s why Zander came over,” Ares explains and adds, “You know, he easily gets distracted when he’s bored.”
“Because he’s a fucking freak,” Jeremy mutters, but everyone seems to ignore him.
“Whatever,” Coach declares and points to the far right. “Head to the shooting range. If y’all want to end this week with competition, let’s rank things up.”
The word ‘shooting range’ has me suddenly excited.
Zander has to be the first to notice because he’s grinning.
“Oh? Look at the little spark that went off in our Sweet Dynamite’s eyes,” he happily hums and decides to take the lead with his arm still around my shoulder.
I follow his lead without complaint while I finish off the bar, feeling a lot better. I don’t know if it’s because of Zander’s observant nature, but he always seems to have some sort of snack on him at all times for me.
Very considerate of him.
When everyone is before the field of various targets, Coach Hennessy gets to the point.
“Hit as many targets as you can in a span of a minute. Whoever wins passes this portion of the class and will get two weeks off from doing any crazy activity unless by personal choice to participate.”
“Aww, Coach. You can offer better than that, can’t you?”
I frown at the voice that’s exaggerated to sound sweet and innocent. I don’t even need to look around to know the owner of the voice.
Lovely, Sweet ‘Barbie.’
Scarlett purposely walks to the front of a group of students with her posse of men. They had to have ditched the other class like Zayn and Ares because unlike her posse, who are drenched in sweat, still trying to catch their breath, she looks like herpurpose in class was to be the ref or some shit that doesn’t exert her life force.
I don’t like her.
As I’ve come to realize, many others don’t, either.
The Barbieri Empire is beginning to soar on multiple platforms in the ‘Dark Underground,’ as we like to call it. Her Father has to be a Drug Lord of some sort. Her Mother? I have no fucking clue. Either way, she has some form of power because I’ve seen more than one group of royal dimwits bow to her like she’s their only tank of oxygen.
Domino included.
I’ll admit it may have been a few weeks since that incident, but we’ve been on “no talking” terms. If he comes one way, I make sure to go the other back at the mansion, and the few classes we’ve had together, I’ve made sure to make his life a living hell by being the most defiant Maiden I can be.
