“Take care of my girl.” I wink in Allie’s direction and close the door.
Let the chips fall where they may.Silvia is going to have a field day with this one. The girl’s been trying to get with me for as long as I can remember. She’ll make Allie’s life hell if she thinks she’s a threat to her shot at the prize, and I just put a bright red bullseye on Allie’s forehead.
A small group of students have formed behind me but as soon as I turn, they scatter, even though they’d been waiting to get into the class I just walked away from. I smirk. I’ll never tire of being the reigning Devil here.
Emilio is waiting for me outside Economics and he doesn’t look pleased. “That the new girl everyone’s talking about?”
I shrug. “Might be.”
His eyes darken.
“Why? You trying to call dibs or some shit?”
He shakes his head. “Do you always have to be a dick?”
Another shrug. “Don’t act like you care.”
He punches me in the shoulder. “We had a deal, remember? Football. That was what the three of us are supposed to be focusing on. No chicks. No more head games. We had an agreement,cabrón.”
“My head is in the game. Stop stressing out over nothing. Kemp asked me to help her out this week as a way to avoid detention. I’m only doing what I was told.”
Emilio doesn’t look convinced but lets it drop with a shake of his head. “You don’t ever do what you’re told. Not unless you’re getting something out of it. If this game of yours fucks up what we have going on the field, I’m coming for your ass and you know Dom will back me up.”
Yeah. Yeah. Whatever.
FOUR
Allie
The looks I’m getting aren’t friendly. I’m pretty sure that girl—Silvia—wants to murder me. I didn’t miss the way she looked at Roman when he called for her. She all but preened under his attention. Until she saw me. She wants him. I can’t really blame her. Before dating my ex—Ryker—I might have wanted him, too. The bad-boy type every girl thinks she can tame. But I learned my lesson going down that road once before and my heart's been through enough as it is.
I’m not some masochist, so she doesn’t have anything to worry about from me.
He asked her to take care of me—his girl. Does he have any idea how much those two little words have royally screwed me? It’s easy to tell Silvia is the one, if not the one and only, Queen B here at Sun Valley High. She’s polished within an inch of her life and has a resting bitch face strong enough to peel paint. Following her lead, by the end of the day, every girl in this school is going to hate me.
Thankfully I don’t have to sit by her and Calculus passes uneventfully with little more than hushed whispers and sneers aimed in my direction, but what can I do?
Nothing. That’s what.
Sun Valley High is everything I expected it to be. Your typical public school. But I failed to take into account just how much of a stir I would cause as the new girl. It didn’t help that I’d started school halfway through the first trimester. If I’d started on the very first day of school like everyone else, I might have had a chance of going by unnoticed. Maybe. Probably. Unless I’d run into Roman day one then, too.
I tug at the hem of my shirt, fighting off a wave of self-consciousness. No one here is dressed like me. Janessa made me believe they would be, going on and on about what popular things kids here liked, but she was way off base.
Most of the students are wearing ripped jeans, hoodies, and casual shirts. There’s a small cluster of kids dressed to the nines—like Silvia—and I have a feeling they’re the Sun Valley elite. The preppy jocks and spoiled rich kids. But their version of preppy is Rock Revival jeans and Free People tops.
Still over the top if you ask me but my shoes cost more than most of their outfits and it doesn’t go by unnoticed. I get a lot of whispered “stuck up, bitch” comments directed my way, and by lunch I’ve picked up a new nickname, “Daddy’s little princess.”
I hate that one even more than when Roman calls me “vanilla.”
He’s waiting for me outside of class for lunch, taking me by surprise. I don’t delude myself into thinking we’ll become friends. Guys like him aren’t friends with girls. I know the type. All I am is his punishment and it’s evident he isn’t happy about it, even if he is toying with me. Ryker used to do crap like this, too.
I follow Roman into the cafeteria and we each grab our lunches before heading to a table in the far-right corner. Two other boys are already seated at it. One is a tall black guy wearing charcoal gray sweatpants, a plain white t-shirt, and rocking a pair of Beast Mode sneakers.
Huh, a Marshawn Lynch fan. I can get behind that.
Well, Marshawn Lynch when he went to the Raiders. I was never one for the Seahawks.
He has full lips, and dark brown, wide-set eyes. His hair is braided tight against his head and he has two slashes through his left brow that I’m pretty sure were shaved into twin lines as opposed to being remnants of a scar. It gives him a more severe look and enhances his already good looks.
