Page 30 of The Golden Boys
Or … maybe I’m looking at this from the wrong angle. Maybe I should be doing my bit to get dirt onhim.As in, fight firewithfire.
The tricky part will be discovering a way to level the playing field without ruining my chances of succeeding here at Cypress Prep.
It’s a very tall order to fill, but I have to try.
With his latest threat, everything important to me could be riding on this. I will not let West Golden win.
At least, not without a fight.
* * *
@QweenPandora: What’s this? Are we witnessing the birth of an unholy alliance? Looks like NewGirl and everyone’s favorite outcast—LostAngel—have struck up a friendship. Lexi doesn’t share her space with just anyone, but one pic suggests she might have even smiled today! I know, I’m in shock, too, but the images don’t lie. Maybe all it took to bring her out of her shell was a kindred spirit, a fellow troubled soul.
See there, NewGirl? Being outed as a member of the infamous Riley family wasn’t all bad, was it? And now, you and LostAngel have something to bond over … like, your siblings being cellmates.
Ohhh, yes, I totally went there.
Later, Peeps.
—P
* * *
Chapter 9
BLUE
Two uneventful hours come and go. They lull me into a false sense of security, and then BAM! Sixth hour rolls around, my guard is down, now here I sit at the center of the gold and black logo on the gym bleachers, pretendingtheyaren’t sitting two rows behind me.
All of them—West, Sterling, and Dane. Along with Parker and her girls, who Lexi pointed out during lunch. Speaking of,she’smissing in action, which means I’m on my own.
Glancing down at myself, I can’t help but wish I’d chosen cuter gym clothes. But since I remembered to grab them at the last minute, I took what I could find—a faded pink tee and black basketball shorts Ithoughtwere the ones from last season. However, turns out I took the pair from freshman year that should’ve gotten tossed out eons ago. I’d grown four or five inches since then and filled out a bit. So, yeah, they’re ridiculously tight and weird-fitting.
Fun.
A sudden outburst of high-pitched giggling from behind may have nothing to do with me, but I’m willing to bet money it does. One of those douchebags probably took a shot at me. The thought of them sitting there, getting off on making fun of me raises my temp.
Doesn’t help that I can still feel West pressed against me, locking me against the glass. He likes that position, asserting power over me. I, on the other hand, hate it. To the core.
Anxiously tapping my foot, my gaze shifts to the clock mounted above the double doors, praying Lexi comes through them at any second, but we’re already six minutes into class. I can’t help but wonder if her absence has something to do with Pandora’s latest reveal. With mention of our siblings both being incarcerated, I suppose I now know what West meant about it‘making sense’that she and I would link up. It was bad enoughI’dbeen outed for my family drama, but it seemed Lexi was now a target, too.
All because she dared to hold one conversation with me.
If she’s smart, she’ll take this as a sign and never speak to me again, for fear of getting dragged into the muck. However, the selfish side of me hopes she’ll stick around despite the risk.
Even if I’m not so sure I would do the same.
A woman has been sitting at a desk behind a floor-to-ceiling window since we walked in, but she’s standing now. A few seconds later, there’s an energetic spring in her steps when she pushes through the door separating her office from the actual gym. She crosses the court, grinning at all twenty-something of us like there’s no place she’d rather be than right here, looking after a bunch of hormonal teens for the hour.
“Afternoon, kiddos! I’m Mrs. C, your drill sergeant for this quarter,” she teases. “Looks like you’ve made it to the end of the day in one piece. Hopefully, everyone had a refreshing summer and you’re ready to hit the ground running. Literally,” she adds with a laugh. “For the rest of the week, we’ll be up on the track.”
I follow her finger when she points above, to the second-floor track that overlooks the court.
“Then, Monday, we’ll get started on our first unit. Swimming,” she adds cheerfully, pushing her cropped hair behind both ears.
A number of gripes and groans hit the air, likely because my classmates are dreading having to mess up their hair and makeup every day, butmydread stems from something else.
Like, the fact that I can’t freakin’ swim.