“But why is he on the track team if he sucks at it?” Noah is such a perfectionist over-achiever, it doesn’t make sense.
Gabriel gives me that look. “Because of his brother. Are we still on for tonight?”
That’s right. I read in the news articles that Noah’s brother Felix had been a track star headed to the Olympic team. I want to ask Gabriel more about it, but it will only bring up questions in his mind about why I don’t remember the court case and Malloy International’s role in Felix’s death, and I don’t want to poke that bear if I don’t have to. So I nod.
“Dinner and cherry cheesecake at your place, followed by a hot tub under the stars? How can I forget?” I swallow hard. My stomach flips with nerves at the thought of the ‘not-date’ Gabriel has planned for us tonight. Not least of all because it’ll just be the two of us. No Eli. No Noah. And that’s thrilling and terrifying and a little… disappointing. And I don’t understand why.
Since hanging out with the guys, I’ve decided I’m done with virginity. It’s impossible to be around so much male hotness and not think about sex 24/7. A vibrator under the covers while Queen Boudica purrs in my ear just isn’t cutting it any longer. Antony’s right – if I’m going for the normal high school experience, I need to have normal, high school sex. And who better to do it with then flirty, beautiful, no-strings-attached Gabriel?
Who better to take me to the stars than the one who sings them?
It doesn’t matter that Eli’s ocean-eyes haunt my dreams, or I can’t stop thinking of how powerful I felt with Noah’s hard cock rubbing against me at the party. It’s not as if I can have all three of them. I mean, there’s normal high school sex and then there’s… reverse harem. And that may be fun in books, but it doesn’t happen in real life.
Does it?
* * *
I’m happily buzzedfrom Gabe’s weed and my head’s filled with hot tub thoughts when I head into the gym for cheerleading practice. I’m the last one to arrive – the other girls are scattered across the floor, gossiping as they do their stretches and limber up. All conversation dies when I enter – a sure sign I’m probably the main topic.
Cleo flashes me her too-white smile, and I know I’m in trouble.
“Melrose, hi,” she purrs, bouncing over to me. Her sleek black hair is pulled back into a severe ponytail, giving her this panther-like expression. Her snakes coil on either side of me, girls surrounding me in a tight circle of ponytails and bitch-face. “We’reso happyto have you on the team.”
Daphne’s leg brushes my gym bag. They’re standing so close their designer perfumes all mingle together into the scent of bullshit.
“What’s going on here? Girls, on the mat for warm-ups.”
Mrs. Anderson blows her whistle, and the snakes move away. Cleo sets me with one final chilling smile that sets my teeth on edge. I toss my bag down near Cleo’s and line up for drills. As I circle the gym at a jog, I notice Principal Foster and two police officers standing at the entrance to the gym, deep in conversation with Mrs. Anderson.
This can’t be good.
We start on stretches. I’m warming up my hamstrings when Principal Foster comes over. “Miss Malloy, you need to come with me.”
“Can I ask why?”
Her lips purse. “We’re administering a random drug test.”
Hands on hips, haughty expression in place, I size up the principal.Mackenzie Malloy doesn’t stand for this treatment.“Excuse me?”
“You heard me. It’s standard practice for athletes competing at the college level. As the cheerleading team will represent our school at the state competition next month, this applies to you, and you agreed to it when you signed the Stonehurst charter. If you could step this way, it won’t take long.”
I think of the weed I smoked earlier. I narrow my eyes at Principal Foster. Behind her shoulder, Cleo cannot hide her smirk. “Why am I the only one being tested?”
“As I said, this is a random drug test, and you’ve been—”
“It doesn’t feel very random to me. Why don’t you test Cleo? You don’t get cheekbones like hers without a steady diet of heroin.”
“Miss Malloy, if you refuse to take the test, I have to drop you from the team—”
“I’m not refusing. I just don’t believe I should be the only one taking it.” Mrs. Anderson reaches for my bag, but I yank it out of reach. “Watch it. I’ve got private stuff in here.”
“Ms. Malloy—”
“Oh, Principal Foster.” Cleo beams at me as she hands her bag over. “If it will make Mackenzie feel more comfortable, I’m happy to submit to a random search and test.”
Principal Foster glowers at me as she hands Cleo’s bag to the officer, who paws through it. She frowns as she draws out a small bag of white powder. “Ms. St. James, can you explain this?”
Cleo’s face goes white. “That’s not mine.”
