But, of course, Samantha wouldn’t go quietly. I haven’t known the girl for a full hour and I can already tell she’s ‘team too much.’
“What? No talk about your alcoholic mother or deadbeat father?” Sam snarks.
Forget not feeding the beast.
Nope! Whatever ‘when they go low, we go high’ vibes I had before fly out of the window.
My neck snaps to her so quickly that I almost feel a breeze across my skin. I have every intention to read her better than any storyteller. But, before I can utter a word, a commanding voice draws the attention of everyone in the room.
“Sam, why don’t you just shut the fuck up already, with your ‘rode-through more than a drive-thru’ pussy. Are you that intimidated by the new girl?” a god of a boy, no a man, says.
I’m sure Sam is screeching something back in response, but I can’t hear her or anyone else. It’s all silent noise. All I can see is him. All I can hear is the melodic timbre of his hypnotic bass voice. I forget who I am. My mouth falls open as I blatantly gawk at him.
His angular jaw leads up to high, defined cheekbones, with dimples so deep that even with the annoyed look on his face, I can still see them.
I’m trying to formulate a cohesive sentence, but instead I find myself even more lost when I connect with his amber eyes. They’re so unique. I see flecks of green around the pupil. That’s when I see an auburn eyebrow arch and bowlike lips part as he speaks again. His mouth is moving, but I don’t hear what he’s saying.
It’s not until Shay taps me, chuckling, “Girl! Close your mouth! I know, I know, August looks hella good, but close your mouth before drool comes out.”
Her words immediately causing me to snap my mouth shut and come to my senses in time to hear August say, “I like you looking at me Riri, it makes me feel like you’re thinking about me using those thighs as a scarf around my neck.” His smirk almost makes me blush until his comment fully registers.
Out goes the warm feelings and in its place is my rising ire. Glaring, I ask, “Did you just objectify me, sir?”
His tongue licks across the flesh of his bottom lip, garnering my attention to his actions.
“Yes. Call me sir again. I can be your master,” he cajoles, completely ignoring what I asked him.
It’s in that moment I fully take him in and see the seriousness in his words, he would definitely own my soul, if given the chance.
Red freaking flag!
There will be no soul owning over here. I have too much riding on this year. That reaper will have to go and collect somewhere else.
Before the banter can continue Mr. Jameson cuts in, “If you two are finished, I would like to continue on with class.”
I flush, and August continues to smirk as if he knows of my inner turmoil.
The jerk.
I turn to face the board, ignoring that section of the room. Mr. Jameson spends the duration of the class droning on about his expectations for the year. Blah, such a drag.
* * *
As the bell signals the end of class, I grab my bag and turn to leave when Shay stops me. “Hey, what do you have next? You didn’t think you could get away from me already, did you?” She quirks her brow and smiles.
“Oh.” I didn’t really think she was serious about being my friend. “I have AP History next,” I murmur while heading toward the door.
“Great, I have that next too. Miss Mann is super nice. You’ll like her. She also heads the swim team, if you haven’t signed up for your required school activity yet.”
I groan at the mention of the dreaded requirement. Do I really want to swim?
Turning in her direction, I revert to a three-year-old’s whine, “I can’t believe it’s mandatory to choose an activity.” A powerful shove to my back jolts me forward, causing me to nearly face plant.
“Listen here, you gutter slut. Obviously, you didn’t understand me this morning when I said this is my school and you need to fall in line, otherwise you and I will have problems. Ones you don’t want,” Sam snarls.
This chick has some anger issues she needs to work through, but I won’t be helping her center her chi. “Sam is it?” I hiss, pausing so she can see the scowl lining my face before I continue, “Like I said this morning, I don’t care if the world bows at your over-entitled red bottoms. This chick won’t be one of them. So, kindly move along princess.” My shoulder slams into hers, returning the favor with enough force she nearly tips over as I march out of the class. I’m aware it was immature, but I’m not able to find a single fuck to give.
“Seriously, my girl, where have you been all my life? I thought I was the only one who didn’t subscribe to the Regina George wannabe,” Shay says. I detect a hint of a Jamaican accent when she says, my girl.
“I’m not one for drama, but I am certainly far from a doormat. So, if Sam believes she can lord over me, she’s a few cards short of a full deck.”
I swear this year was supposed to be quiet but it’s becoming quite obvious that the ‘in crowd’ isn’t having it. Between the assholian, Rowan, and his superficial sidekick, Sam, my ability to fade into the background has disappeared faster than a deadbeat father who owes child support. Why are they trying so hard to test my patience?
Aren’t most new kids ignored?
How clich? can they be with all of this bully the new kid behavior? Whatever it is, they’ll all learn quickly that I’m not the one to mess with. You don’t grow up with a special ops father and not know how to protect yourself.
“Earth to Riah,” Shay’s voice intrudes on my silent musings. “You checked out on me and missed my whole ‘I got your back’ monologue.”
“Sorry, I’m just coming to terms with my staying under the radar plan being burned to ashes.” I smirk at her. “But, I am glad to have someone in my corner.”
A warm smile crests her lips. “Now, where did I leave off earlier?” Hopefully, she’ll finish telling me why no one moves into this town. I don’t have to wait long before she continues, “Oh, yes. People not moving here.” Pausing, she glances over to ensure I’m listening. “Calloway is more of a member’s only town. Simply put, you have to go through a process or be related to the founders in order to get in.”
How can a town be members only? That has to be against some law. I go to ask her this, but she puts her index finger to her lips, silencing any questions I might have.
“Look, you’re not going to understand everything, but you’ll learn. For now, I’ll give you a quick rundown on who’s who. That way you know who to avoid and who to not piss off. Well, in your case, don’t piss off more. The elite run this town and the heirs run this school.”
Not being able to stay quiet any longer, I interject, “Let me guess, Rowan and his merry band of assholes are the heirs, queen mean included?”
Shay’s thinning lips and sharp side-eye shuts me right up.
“Didn’t I just say I’ll fill you in? No questions. Just listen, we have like two minutes to get this all in.”
Motioning my pinched fingers across my lips, signaling my lips are zipped, I listen in rapt attention. “Okay, like I was saying, the heirs rule this school and one day will rule this town. They are Rowaniel Calloway or Rowan, Liamon Washington or Liam, Karl Johnson, and August, and his cousin, Sebastian Grant. Samantha Davenport is a ‘pick me.’ She isn’t an heir, though she’s trying her very best to marry into being one. If you just stay out of their way, you should be fine, but if you keep ruffling feathers,” she shrugs, “then you’ll be in for a bumpy year.”
My foot barely crosses the threshold of our history class when some version of my name is shouted down the hall. I step out of the doorway, allowing other people to pass.
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.