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He was always worried about me, so if he knew something would be televised, he’d have me wear a hat and really cool half-skull mask so my face wouldn’t be out there. With everything going on in the world in the last few years, the mask worked just fine and didn’t even look weird.
Since I was in it for the competition and not the fame, I was totally okay with that. Ineverwanted my face out there. I enjoyed being a nobody while also enjoying being a competitor and having goals and working toward them.
My dad and I were a lot alike in that way. We enjoyed our privacy and believed home life should always be separate from work or competition life. That way, when you were home, you were safe. You were comfortable. You felt at peace. I always loved the way he looked at things, and so I had the same views.
And now… that was all shot to shit. My face was all over the news, and everyone knew exactly who I was. I hadn’t even thought about going back to school in August, but now, it would be even worse. People who never noticed the goth girl because she wasn’t important would now take notice. I’d be oneveryone’sradar.
“Thanks for the warning, Angela,” I said under my breath. “Unfortunately, it’s a little too late.”
CHAPTER SIX
ASHER
After tying back my long, black hair again and straightening my Gi, I stepped back out onto the mat and bowed to my newest student. I wasn’t a professor in Brazilian Jiu Jitsu, but I helped out at the gym sometimes. I’d been in classes since I was a kid, so when I was asked to help due to being short staffed, I said I would.
It was only one day a week, and it gave me the chance to refresh on the basics but help work one-on-one with some of the newer students who had trouble learning. Normally, my mind was in it, and I was excited to be there, but today was different.
Summer was half over. We just got back from Hawaii a week and a half ago, and I dreaded getting back into the regular routine. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to be on the football team anymore. It was just that…
Well, yeah. Actually, itwasthat I didn’t want to be on the team anymore. I was sick of the games. It’d grown old and tired. Damian was my best friend, and I loved the guy to death, but to be honest, I was just over the bullshit.
We grew up together. My parents were normal people. We lived in Nebraska—on a farm. It was why I knew so much about fixing things. If you pointed me toward it, I could probably fix it. Plumbing, minor electrical issues, cars, tractors, and even some machinery. I learned a lot at my young age, and I never stopped taking things apart and putting them back together, even after moving to California.
When my paternal grandfather died, he left my dad everything. That came as a huge surprise since they hadn’t spoken since my dad was eighteen. Dad thought Granddad hated him, but apparently, that wasn’t the case.
One of the first meetings my father took was with Sebastian Wolfe, Damian’s father. It was in that meeting that they became fast friends. Sebastian pushed my father to put me in the same school Damian went to because it was safe and secure. Less students and a better education. My father thought it was a great idea, but I hated it.
Damian was a little shit, but for some reason, he was my friend. We clicked. We’ve been inseparable ever since. I think that was the main reason why I stayed in football. We had each other’s back, and honestly, I didn’t trust some asshole on the team not to sabotage him in some way just to try to take the throne.
He’d created one hell of a name for himself. He was known as the Wolf of Crestview, and it hasn’t escaped people that his first name is frequently used for demonic characters in movies. He played the part well.
The popularity and all the things that came with it were great at first, but now, it was just boring. Power was fun in the beginning, but if you didn’t have the personality for it, it eventually got fucking lonely and annoying.
The girls were all the same. They all had the same damn hair stylist, and despite what they said, they all went to the same plastic surgeon. There was no other excuse for why most of the girls in the school looked like carbon copies of one another. It was disturbing.
Bleach blonde hair, but they paid $600 for it, so that meant it looked good. Their lips were full, they all had blue or green eyes thanks to colored contacts. I mean, heaven fucking forbid one of them had natural brown eyes. That might prove they weren’t naturally blonde!
I was all for a woman doing whatever she wants with her body. It was hers and it was none of my business. However, it sickened me when they did it to look like everyone else because they were terrified of being an individual. I spent the first part of my life on a farm; I enjoyed simplicity and individuality. I didn’t see a purpose in all the competition. Especially when there was nothing to win from being popular.
Ninety-nine percent of the people at Crestview could stand to learn that.
On top of the physical fakeness, there was the endless shallowness. Those girls would sell their souls to be with one of the Crestview royals. There were six of us, and I had seen some of the craziest shit go down. Don’t get me wrong, I’d taken advantage of my status plenty of times. I wasn’t perfect.
I was kind of an asshole.
However, I did have a soul. And after a while, I just lost my taste for it. Maybe that was why Damian was how he was. Maybe that was why he liked to fuck with people so much. He couldn’t stand it either, but he liked to push people. Toy with them. See just how far they were willing to go and just what they’d do to even be seen with him.
It was pretty disturbing. Both on his part and on theirs. Though, I had to say, if they didn’t show up to play his games, he probably wouldn’t have gotten so good at hosting.
Again, I loved the guy to death, but he was a little bit fucked in the head. I worried about him sometimes.
“Asher,” David, the thirteen-year-old kid I was helping today said. “Can you show me the straight arm lock again?”
David seemed like a sweet kid, but he was brand new to anything physical. He was completely uncoordinated and more than a little afraid of using his own body. He was a little overweight, but he looked good. Solid. But that added to his fear. He was worried about hurting someone.
He’d only been here for two weeks—or two classes—but I’d seen him get picked on by the other kids. I told him that he was at that age right now where he’d start growing taller. I’d seen his dad. He was even taller than me and possibly Damian, and I was six-three and Damian was six-four. That kid was probably going to be tall as hell.
I told him that if he kept coming to class, not only would he start growing taller, but he would lose weight, too. His body was about to change in crazy ways. That seemed to help him feel a little better. I assured him that if he could hold out a little longer, he’d be bigger, stronger, and look way better than any of those little douchebags.
