Page 1 of Sinful Desires

Chapter 1

Aspen

Smoke clouded the air, wafting out in tendrils as it surrounded me and strangled my senses. Despite the burning in my nose from the foul stench of the tobacco, I had no intention of putting it down. This was my escape.

Being holed up in a small bathroom wasn’t initially what I had in mind, but my patience was dwindling. At this point, going to jail sounded like a better alternative than being stuck in this place. Large public schools weren’t for the faint of hearts, that was for sure. At every turn there were the typical queen bees—some worse than others—and not to mention their puppets who did their dirty work for them. They thought they had everyone under lock and key, but I wouldn’t bend to any hierarchy. I proved that when the queen bee caught her quarterback boyfriend of two years buried deep inside me. Poor Paisley. Always the girl everyone wants to bang, but never the one they want to keep.

A smirk tugged at the corner of my mouth as I hit my cigarette again, reveling in the slight burn it inflicted on my throat. My thumb scraped across the button on the can of spray paint, my mind urging me to pull the trigger. Slowly, I lifted my arm and aligned the spout with the mundane wall before pressing the button. A satisfying hiss sounded from the can, purple paint splattering against the wall next to the mirror. A current of adrenaline pulsed through me, leaving a euphoric feeling in its wake.

I was no artist. But if there was one thing that I could get behind, it was destroying things. In my eyes, things were meant to be broken. In this fucked up, corrupt world, no one was truly innocent. All I did was bring the devil within them out of hiding.

My assault on the wall continued until I ran out of paint. If vomit was purple, that’s exactly what it looked like. Spray painting was a release for me—something I didn’t get to indulge in often. It was one of the only things that made me feel free in the moment. Of course…that was only temporary.

It wasn’t like I had friends. With how much I moved around, it was impossible for me to connect with anyone. Plus, who would want to be friends with the trailer park slut? That’s what they called me, and I couldn’t exactly deny it after some of the things I’d done. That was fine with me though, because caring about what other people thought also wasn’t part of my agenda.

I tossed the can across the room, missing the trashcan by a long shot. It hit the wall with a thud and rolled beneath the sink. Moving toward the sink, I twisted the handle and allowed the hot water to run through my fingers. My pale skin turned red as the paint trickled down the drain.

It would only be a matter of time before I—

“Aspen!” A shrill voice shrieked. My body tensed from the unexpectedness of it, my heart thundering beneath my ribcage.

I swiped my tongue across my lower lip, fighting the urge to grin like a maniac. Whirling around, I came face to face with Mrs. Camillo. Her blonde hair was tugged into a ponytail, not a strand out of place. She glared at me with those deep, blue eyes, a vein exposing itself in the corner of her forehead. Her gaze drifted to the cigarette between my fingers in which I took a final drag before dropping it on the floor and snuffing it out.

“You’re coming with me right this instant,” she seethed, moving toward me at an abrupt speed. Her hand latched onto my slender arm, causing me to wince from the amount of pressure she was inflicting.

Anger coursed through me at the audacity of this woman. She had no right to touch me. “Back the fuck up off me bitch,” I snapped, jerking my arm free of her hold. “I can walk on my own.”

Her jaw ticked and her face reddened from the insult. Maybe if luck decided to side with me today, she’d shatter her damn teeth. My gaze skipped down to my arm where a red handprint was already forming. She was lucky I wasn’t a snitch; it would have cost her.

We stood there glaring at one another for a good few seconds before I decided that her face was grating on my nerves and stormed past her.

As expected, the hallway was empty. Third period was still in session, and everyone was in class except for me.

The cream-colored floors squeaked beneath my sneakers and clacked under Mrs. Camillo’s stripper heels. Imagine her crusty ass up on a pole. I snickered to myself, but then scrunched up my nose when my imagination conjured up unwanted images.

“I recommend stopping by your locker first,” she said. “You won’t be going back to class today.”

A snort of amusement left me. Missing class was the least of my worries. What difference did it make if I maintained good grades, or actually applied myself when the foster system was playing hot potato with me? There was a time when I tried to be good, but it didn’t matter. Once they viewed me as damaged, that’s all they’d ever see in me.

Coming to a stop at the end of the hallway, I turned to my locker and put in the combination. I dug out my belongings and slung my bag over my shoulder before slamming my locker door closed, the sound echoing throughout the hall.

Mrs. Camillo led the way to the office, which just so happened to be on the other end of the school. The large glass windows permitted us to peer inside, and my eyes rolled of their own accord when they settled on the preppy bitch sitting behind the desk.

The room was decked out in white with photos of our school mascot adorning the walls. Kamryn’s brown eyes took me in, disgust contorting her features. She was friends with Paisley, and by now, she knew what I’d done concerning her best friend’s boyfriend. Her hand tightened around her phone, but when she saw Mrs. Camillo beside me, her features softened.

“Principal Crutchfield?” The brunette questioned once we made it to the desk.

“I’m afraid so,” Mrs. Camillo muttered, a hint of sadness laced within her tone as if she actually gave a shit about what happened to me.

Kamryn nodded and slipped out of her seat. “I think she’s in her office right now; I’ll go check.” No one said a word as her slender figure drifted toward the wooden door near the back of the room.

I’d only been here for two months, but that was enough time to figure out how this place worked. Kamryn was right up there with the queen bee, but still beneath her. She was a teacher’s pet and a goody-two-shoes who spent daddy’s money and could do no wrong. If the rumors were true, she’d never even had sex. Apparently, she was waiting for the perfect guy to show up and sweep her off her feet. I scoffed internally at that. If there was such a thing as a perfect guy, I longed to meet one.

“She’s ready for you,” the bitch in question chirped, slicing through my thoughts.

“Thanks, dear.” Mrs. Camillo beamed at her before ushering me forward with a wave of her hand.

Frustration settled inside of me as I glared at her. “Do I look like a dog to you?” I challenged. There was no way in hell that she was going to treat me like some kind of animal and expect me to stay quiet about it.