“It has to be a freshman, right?” Elliot whispers, leaning into Kade, but his eyes meet mine, and I nod.
“Yep, freshman only,” I answer, and he snarls.
“I really wanted to fuck with Candace Brewer. She’s such a cunt. I’d love to shut her up one of these days,” he growls, and I chuckle.
“So shut her up,” I tell him, but he huffs.
“BREWER, are you deaf? You know that family is off limits,” he says, and now it’s my turn to roll my eyes.
“Oh, I'm well aware. But that still wouldn’t stop me, and you shouldn’t either. There’s plenty of ways to get her to shut her fucking mouth.” I smirk. “Gotta keep bitches like her in line, otherwise, other people will think it’s okay to behave that way.”
“Got it. Is this shit almost done? I’ve got things to do!” Elliot spits, and I groan. Between him and Kade they can never sit fucking still. I fold my arms over my chest and grit my teeth as I ignore their whining.
After another thirty minutes the headmaster finishes his speech and dismisses everyone. I’m the first one out of my seat and out the door without waiting for the others. I walk through the halls, heading for the freshman wing. The one thing I love about this place is everyone knows to clear a path when I’m on the move, and if I say jump, they jump.Such peasants.
Leaning against the wall, I take out my phone and pretend I’m on it, but what I’m really doing is seeing if that girl is on this floor so I can get her room number.
Opening the ‘gram, I scroll through all the half naked girls filling my feed. Not a single one of themgrabs my attention; the majority of the girls here don’t either.
Women are a commodity. Something pretty to have next to you when needed and wrapped around your cock when frustrated. I really don’t have any use for them more then a quick fuck. And even that’s scarce. I can have any girl I want. They literally throw themselves at me. I don’t know why, I don’t expend an aura that’s inviting. My mouth is lethal, and my face screams annoyance at every turn. I think it’s because I’m the football captain and I run this school. So these dumb bitches think that me dicking them down will give them special privileges, but they are sadly mistaken. I’ve been called a dick more times than I can count. I’m not a nice guy. I'm man enough to admit that, and I don’t hide it either.
A few girls giggling interrupts my thoughts, and I look up to see the girl from earlier. Her eyes collide with mine for a millisecond before she looks away, putting her head down as she walks.That's a new one.Usually the girls around here stare and damn near purr like cats in heat, but this girl didn’t pay me any mind.What the fuck?The short girl walking beside her whispers something that I can’t hear, which grates on my nerves, but I watch as they walk past me and down the hallway. I tilt my head and check out her ass. She may be a big girl but she’s got a nice ass I could sink my teeth into. They finally makeit to their room and I put it in my phone—Room C14. Then I look up and my eyes collide with blue ones and she snarls, making me laugh. Okay, so the roommate knows exactly who I am and doesn’t like me.Good to know.
Sliding my phone into my pocket, I leave the freshman wing and head to my dorm. The sea of people milling around the halls immediately step out of my way as I head towards the elevators.Peasants.
Hitting the button, I wait for the doors to open, and once they do, I step inside and hit number twelve. Once I get to my room, I grab my laptop and sit on my bed.
Opening it, I turn it on then reach over into my nightstand drawer and take out a prerolled. Sparking it up, I take a deep inhale and smile. I’ve waited all day to smoke this shit. It’s not weed that I’m smoking, it's something entirely different, made from some type of herbs and other shit I don’t really know. What I do know is that it gets me high as shit and relaxes my nerves without a hangover the next day. Weed slows me down, and the next morning I drag ass, plus being the captain, we all get drug tested and this shit goes undetected. Velm is its street name. It tastes herby, like weed, but it's so much smoother with a hint of floral. Taking another hit, I hack into the school’s database and enter the room number.I continue to smoke as the mouse circles, waiting for the shit to load. Finally, after a few seconds, two files pop up. Clicking the first one makes me laugh. Misti Brewer. None other than Candace’s younger sister. Closing it, because I couldn’t care less about the girl, I click open the other file and smile. Rowyn Lorainne Hale.Why does the name Hale sound so familiar?I continue down the document making note of all the information I need. Eighteen and on scholarship. Parents are deceased with no other living relatives and no siblings. My smile widens the more I look through her file.
Clicking out of everything, I open my email and scroll to the one I need. Opening it, I press the link to the form and enter ‘Rowyn Hale’ then press submit.
I hope Chunkers challenges me at every turn, because if she does, it just makes this game so much sweeter.
three
Rowyn Hale
Intrigue
The next morning, Misti and I walk to the cafeteria to get breakfast. We fill up our trays then find a table to sit at.
“What do you want to do today? Classes don’t start just yet. I heard there’s a frat party tonight. Do you wanna check it out?” she asks as I take a sip of my iced tea.
“Yeah, sure. Whatever you want to do I’m cool with,” I respond, and she nods, digging into her food. I stab my fork into my pancakes and bring it to my mouth. I moan at the taste of the vanilla and maple goodness.Why are theseso good?
Suddenly, the room goes quiet and we both look at one another then to the center of the room. There stand the three gods, skipping the line and getting food.
“I went to high school with them. This is the same shit they did then. I can’t stand them.” She groans, taking a sip of her apple juice. I shrug, looking away, and continue eating. If we don’t stare, maybe they won’t notice us. “Ya know, I wish someone would actually grow a pair and stand up against them,” she spits, and I look up yet again, not being able to help myself.
“Has anyone tried? Are they really that bad?” I ask, and she chokes on her drink.
“Yes, they are,” she exclaims, and I look at her as she tucks her hair behind her ear. She has this far away look as if she is the one who personally experienced their wrath.
“Okay, okay. Sorry, Misti. I didn’t realize how serious this all is.” I chuckle, and she turns to me, her eyes telling me a story her lips are too afraid to speak.
“Trust me. They’re not good people,” she states as her bottom lip trembles.
“What happened? You can tell me,” I whisper, but her eyes widen as footsteps approach us.
