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“Dude, stop,” Maxen says. “He’s like fourteen. What the hell is wrong with you? You’ve been a fucking grouchy prick all weekend.”

“I’m fine,” I grumble, glancing away.

Maxen doesn’t seem to catch on to the point that I don’t want to talk about it and continues on. “Is it because of that wicked case of blue balls you’ve got? I saw you strike out with Phoenix at the party and then that Courtney chick was walking home, and if she was walking home, then she’s wasn’t in your fucking bed.”

Fuck me. He hit the nail right on the head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Tyson grins wide, unlike me, the fucker hasn’t been able to wipe the smile off his face all weekend and none of us can figure out why. “Bullshit, man. Courtney must have bruised your ego. I’ve never seen you try so hard.”

“Who the fuck is Courtney?” Jesse murmurs, joining our group just seconds before the bell rings.

Tyson turns to his best friend as the five of us start making our way toward the front entrance of the school. “She’s that friend of Tora’s that Puck was dancing with on Friday night. She left him with blue balls.”

I nail Ty in the arm. “I don’t have fucking blue balls.”

Jesse chuckles as he looks back at me. “Could have fooled me.”

I roll my eyes as we step through the big double doors. There’s no point arguing with either of them. All I’m going to achieve is to dig myself a deeper hole.

Jesse stops to talk to Tyson while Nate and Maxen take off in the opposite direction, leaving me to get on with my morning.

Not bothering to stop by my locker, I head straight to homeroom. After all, homeroom is the most important class of the day. All I need is my attendance taken for the day and as long as it’s down in the system, it’ll keep my mom off my back.

As I walk down the hallway to Miss Blakeley’s room, I find Courtney chilling outside of the new teacher’s room with her friend, Brylee. Her back is to me, leaving her ass wide open for the taking. Well, not really, but one day, I’ll be slamming into it over and over again as she screams out my name.

After realizing that maybe she’s not the good girl I always thought and that perhaps she has a bit of a wild side on Friday night, I figured there’s no longer any point in holding back from her. Maybe she can handle it after all.

My eyes travel down her back and find that perfectly plump ass just waiting for me to grab it, though I don’t. That would be borderline creepy, besides I grabbed it plenty of times on Friday night to remember the exact shape and feel of it in my hand, and fuck me, it was as close to angelic that I’ll ever get.

As if sensing my eyes on her body, Courtney’s head turns back over her shoulder and I watch as she sucks in a deep breath. She seems to straighten herself out and as her stare meets mine, an odd longing appears in her eyes, but it’s gone in the next instant.

A smirk crosses my lips. She’s thinking about my hands on her body just as much as I am, but unlike me, she has a little more self-control and tears her gaze away.

Yeah, fucking with Courtney is going to be fun. I take back everything I ever thought about her. She’s no longer the forbidden fruit that I’m not allowed to touch, she’s the perfect princess that I’m going to enjoy corrupting.

I keep on walking by. Let’s face it, no corrupting is going to be done right now, especially as her walls are firmly in place. A girl like Courtney is going to need a little time and maybe a bit of coaxing, but when she finally gets there and lets me in, she’s going to go fucking wild, and I can’t wait.

The warning bell for homeroom sounds just as I grab hold of the doorframe of Miss Blakeley’s classroom and swing myself through. I head straight to the back of the classroom and drop down into a chair, grinning to myself as I notice the less than impressed scowl on Miss Blakeley’s face. She’s clearly not excited to see me and to be honest, the feeling is mutual.

She’s an alright teacher where it comes to caring for her students and making sure they succeed, but when it comes to dealing with guys like me who don’t seem to want to be there, she can be a little brutal. Though, maybe a teacher like her is exactly what dickheads like us need. Someone to keep us checked and in line, and make sure we don’t derail. Maybe it’s teachers like her that are the ones that actually care and think that maybe there’s hope for us after all, and in my opinion, teachers like Miss Blakley are the good ones. That’s not going to change the fact that she probably doesn’t want to deal with me first thing on a Monday morning, but I’ll behave. After all, I have to spend all of my senior year starting the day off in her classroom.

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