“Wait,” I start, but she’s already halfway down the hall when I recover from the bullshit Samantha just spewed.
Samantha’s heels click against the linoleum floor, signaling her approach.
“Don’t worry, baby. I’ll never let you have to deal with that trash troll,” she coos, placing her clawed hand on my bicep.
My hand snaps out, gripping the offending limb and pulling it off me. She attempts to dig her nails into my skin, but when my grip tightens to the point I can see her wince, she relents, dropping her hands to her side. I face the bitch that can’t seem to stay the fuck out of my way. “What the actual fuck is your damage? We had no plans and will never have plans to meet up anywhere again,” I snarl.
Hurt flashes in her eyes but is gone as quickly as it appeared— replaced by malice. “You didn’t use to say that when you had me bent over and were fucking me, Wesley. The problem only began when the cheap slut arrived,” Samantha snaps, preparing to slap me, but my hand squeezes her wrist, and I don’t let go until she drops her arm.
Angry that her second attempt was thwarted, she shrieks. “So, the problem seems to only be her, and once she’s not chosen, you can come back to me. I’ll let you play with your shiny new toy, but don’t fucking think I’ll let you assholes replace me with some off-brand model.” Then she begins to stomp away, but I snatch her by her jet-black extensions and slam her against the locker.
“Did you fucking forget the little chat we had the other day in my room when your crusty pussy was laid out on my bed? I had to burn those sheets and get a new bed, by the way,” I add.
Lust fills the pain slut’s eyes until I yank an extension out. She screams, no pleasure in sight.
“Stop fucking pushing me, Sam. You won’t like the outcome. Each time you try to top me, I’ll only crush you harder under my heel. So leave me the fuck alone,” I snarl, releasing her to drop into a heap on the floor before turning and storming down the hall to class.
Stupid fucking Fraternitas and their stupid fucking need for me to dip into the wasteland pussy.
But I know it’s not all their doing. Like the guys said. I didn’t have to keep messing with her to get information from her. Sam’s always been like putty in my hands. I just like that she always lets me debase her in the most awful ways. It was like payback for Owen and Lev— plus, I got to nut. My temper cools when I remember the last time I messed with her. Calling out Ariah’s name was the best revenge.
Samantha likes all the shit I do to her. She didn’t like me screaming another girl’s name because I’d never once called her name. Shit. If I had known that sooner, I’d have done it before. Something tells me that it’s not that another girl’s name passed through my lips, but who that girl is. Ariah sets Sam on another level of batshit.
I pull open the door to English, and Mrs. Chase looks annoyed at the interruption until she sees it’s me.
“Ah, you’re just in time, Wesley. We’re about to read Audre Lorde’sSister Outsider.So grab your seat and turn to page fifty-three.”
I nod, taking my seat next to Owen. I love this class. Mrs. Chase is always pushing us to explore more, and Audre Lorde’s essays definitely make you think about your positionality in society.
Owen leans over. “Where have you been?”
“First, I was with our girl, but then a foul creature needed to be reminded of their place,” I reply.
He chuckles. “So, Sam cock-blocked you again?”
“You wouldn’t be laughing if you heard the things she said. She’s delusional, and it’s my fucking fault.” I sigh in resignation.
“The first step in recovery is admitting you have a problem, Bro,” he quips.
I flip him the bird. “Whatever, asshole. I still think we should keep a close eye on her. I know our dads said we could back off some, but I think it’s a bad idea. She really thinks we’ll choose her in the end.”
“I’d sooner cut her heart out before I’d ever agreed to be anything to that man-eater,” he states, and I nod, agreeing.
Thinking back to the hallway, I lean over to Owen and whisper, “Do you think Sam knows something we don’t?”
“I wouldn’t put it past her. The only problem is everything that happened when she was kidnapped. It sets a level of doubt about her being involved. Which could be a smoke screen—an extreme one, but one that’s plausible,” he reasons.
He’s right. There are so many reasons she might or might not be involved.
“Let’s have Lev do more digging,” I suggest, and he nods in agreement just as the discussion begins in class.
Sighing, I try to focus back on Mrs. Chase, resigned to the fact that even as we discover more answers— there are still a thousand more questions.
41
ARIAH
“We need to find you something to wear,” Shay mumbles as Mr. Jameson prattles on about coefficients.
