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Could her taste be that amazing? Her scent? Her eyesaremesmerizing. I know I would get lost in them, but I won’t.
“You can’t, Jameson.”
“She’s a means to an end.”
“Remember what father said.”
Our group chat goes off, distracting me from the taunts. They will be here in twenty minutes to pack up the SUV. Unfortunately, we don’t get to room together this year. Reid and Dario will share, and being that I’m the senator’s son, I’ll get a space for myself, which is good. I’ll be able to get a lot more done alone, but I can’t help but think about how Jade lunged for me when I told her I didn’t care about her and disrespected the poor princess in her own house. The fire in her eyes made my dick so hard.
I half expected her to pull a gun on me, but the boys distracted her, I guess, or calmed her down because she never came after me. I shouldn’t be thinking about her like this, but the way her tits bounced when she came at me and the murderous look in her eyes, Goddamn! She’s a feisty little thing. She’s got curves for days, and she’s not sickly skinny but nice and thick in all the right places. I palm my hardening dick. I need to get my shit together; enough of these intrusive thoughts of the club whore. I get off my bed, grab my things, and leave this evil house.
“You will be back.”
“You always come back, little boy.”
“You’re just like him.”
8
Purple Clit & Dick Pics
-Jade-
After picking up Kayla and the food from Amici’s, we head to the Academy. It’s our junior year here, and the classes are finally getting interesting. The campus is vast. A legitimate secret highway is only used for “Hijacking.” Yes, we have a class to teach us how to hijack a vehicle, especially a big rig. We also have classes for making explosives, using weapons, waterboarding, cracking safes, and picking locks, among many more. Only seniors get to take those courses. Otherwise, everything is the same as any other academy.
We enter the big steel gates with our personal pin codes. There are security guards everywhere on the grounds. If you catch my drift, this is to protect us and any outsiders. We godown the long, winding road lined on both sides with trees. This expansive Academy sits on at least a thousand acres.
Pulling up to our designated parking garage takes us about ten minutes. Woods and Whitestone Lake surround the entire campus. Urban legend says that every seven years, one boy drowns in the lake trying to swim across it because a Native American Princess curses it.
It is Whitestone’s most significant, deepest lake, surrounded by scenic woods and lined with white sand. Buried in the lake’s waters are untold lost bodies, they say, victims of centuries-old ghosts who regularly drag young men to their graves.
Legend has it that the Native American Princess fell obsessively in love with a boatman she spotted one day across the water. Her father forbade her from seeing him. So she spent seven years writing love letters on pieces of bark and sending them across the lake and never received a response. So, in despair, she rowed herself into the middle of the lake and stabbed herself in the heart.
So, anytime a male swims across the lake, they never make it to the center because she makes it her mission to grab male swimmers and drag them under to replace her lost love. No one has died in the lake since I have attended. When is the seven-year mark? Why would anyone be stupid enough to swim in there, especially with an urban legend like that? Not me, that’s for sure.
I park the jag in my assigned parking spot. I grab my bag, charger, and phone. Kayla does the same, calling Marco to have the crew get our suitcases; everything else was delivered hours ago.
We climbed what felt like a million stairs to the front door. Before entering, I look at Kayla,
“Are you ready for the shit show?” I hip-bump her and giggle. “Yep, let’s fuck shit up this year! Let’s place a bet: whoevergets the most guys to become obsessed with them wins a long weekend of their choice with said boys!”
“BET,” I fist bump her, solidifying the deal.
We entered hell and went to the Dean’s office to grab our key cards and enter our thumbprints into the system. Everything goes smoothly. Not only did we collect the key card, but our schedules were ready for us. We leave the Dean’s office without running into Dean Richard Whittmore. He’s a creepy older man who eyes the girls of this school and doesn’t hide it either. There are a lot of rumors around this school that the Dean got a student pregnant. Teachers have affairs with male students because of their pedigree. It’s absolute madness within these walls.
We take the elevator to the eleventh floor. Our dorm room is at the end of the hall and is one of the most oversized dorm rooms on this floor—more of a suite than a room. We won’t have to share a bathroom with anyone else, and we have our own living room and kitchen with a balcony overlooking the forest and lake.
This hallway has to be the longest hallway ever made. Brown and white striped glossy tiled floor that makes your shoes squeak. High ceilings with chandeliers and sconces lighting the halls. Antique craftsmanship moldings with cream-colored walls filled with paintings of scholars who attended here many, many, many years ago. Are they scholars or the most remarkable criminals that ever lived? Let’s face it: everyone who attends here has their hands in something illegal.
Finally, we made it to our door. After I entered the key card and my thumbprint, the lock disengaged and opened the door to our home for the next nine months. We walk into our fully furnished suite. The living room is straight ahead, overlooking the full windows that open to the balcony. The kitchen is to the left of the front door. The dining area is to the right, opposite thekitchen. Kayla’s room is on the right, and mine is on the left. It’s nowhere as big as my house off campus, but it will do for now. We part ways to unpack our things that were delivered. Marco should be leaving our suitcases at the door momentarily.
First, I plug in my phone and jump on my queen-size bed that’s already made with a fluffy black comforter and purple pillows. I need a minute to soak everything in. I know I can’t stay here for too long. Otherwise, nothing will get done, and I’ll go to sleep and then be pissed that I have so much to do before classes start.
The doorbell chimes.It must be Marco, and I open the door; it’s the Dean. A shiver runs up my spine at the sight of him.
“Good Afternoon Miss Rivers. I missed your arrival.” he looks at me with lust in his eyes.
“Sorry, Dean Whittmore, I wanted to start unpacking early so I’m ready for classes this week.” I twiddle my thumbs. His stare makes me uncomfortable.
