Page 9

“Shit, really?” I feign surprise. “My bad.”
When I cross my arms, his jaw ticks. He reaches out, snatching my bag off my shoulder and unzips the main pocket. He pulls out the cutters, makes quick work of the broken lock on my locker, and turns to leave before the broken lock can even hit the floor.
“Hey, those are mine,” I shout after him.
I don’t expect a response, and I don’t get one either. A girl walking by kicks my book bag down the hall. She crows in laughter when I hurry to retrieve it, grabbing it just as the bell rings.
“Shit,” I grumble, hurrying back to my locker and fishing through my bag to put the new lock on it.
I just slide it through the hole when a voice behind me says, “Second day, Princess.” I look over my shoulder to find the asshole who coined the nickname for me. I still owe him a nut shot for that and for manhandling me. Oscar’s next to him though, his dark eyes boring holes into me. His friend asks him, “You still stand by your assessment, Drego?”
I watch Oscar carefully as he answers. He’s the loud one. He’s the one who talks fear into people. I’m not saying he can’t back it up because I’m sure he can, but it’s harder to understand who he is because talking is a front. It’s our show to the world.
It’s even harder to make him out because he was forced to join the Heights Crew so he wouldn’t keep getting his ass kicked. Despite that, he seems to have taken the role seriously.
Before he can answer, a girl wraps her arms around him, draping herself over him like she’s his blanket. “Hey, Baby,” she coos.
I turn. There’s no reason for me to watch this show. Plus, I’m finding it difficult to hide how interested I am in them. They can’t know how badly I need them to accept me because they’ll turn on me in an instant. What I’ve experienced so far will be nothing. It’ll be a cake walk compared to what they’ll have in store for me.
“What are you—? Oh,” the girl says. Her displeasure makes me think she’s spotted me.
“Hey, Nevaeh,” douchebag says. His voice is low, flirty. It’s like he can’t even see she has a lady boner for Oscar. Or maybe she just has a lady boner for anyone who has power in this school. “I was just asking Drego if he still gives new girl two days.”
“Well?” Nevaeh asks like I’m not standing right there. I hurry, throwing shit in my locker, locking it up, and then starting to walk away, but douchebag gets in my way.
“We’re talking about you,” he says, eyes glistening. “Don’t move.”
I tentatively look toward Oscar. He’s assessing me. Not in a humiliating way. He’s not undressing me with his eyes he’s just watching, waiting. It’s like he’s content to sit back and see how this plays out.
“Actually, she needs to get the hell out of our way,” Nevaeh says. “She looks like shit warmed over.” Her sneer at my oversized shirt tells me exactly what she thinks about my choice of clothes. She’s wearing a short, black skirt, a body conforming white tank and a gold necklace dipping into her cleavage, so it’s easy to see why she thinks my clothing choices leave everything to be desired. “Oscar doesn’t need to look at this fugly chick.”
Oscar licks his lips. He leans away from Nevaeh like she suddenly smells bad. “Jealousy looks like shit on you,” he says, his voice even and sure.
Nevaeh’s jaw drops. She pulls out of his grip, wobbling a little in her tall heels. “What’s that supposed to mean? She may as well be wearing a paper bag.”
“This isn’t about her,” Oscar says, turning his full attention toward Nevaeh. “This is about you trying to claim me when I know who you’ve been spending time with.”
There’s something in Oscar’s eyes. It’s not just anger. He looks pained. A pain he seems to hate himself for feeling.
Nevaeh has the sense to look demure. She’s definitely not dumb. She’s smart. She knows who she needs to suck up to in order to survive this place. But I don’t just want to survive. “It was a mistake.”
Oscar laughs, loudly. “Once is a mistake. Twice could be an accident. But ten times? That’s with intent.”
I want to roll my eyes at his assessment of cheating, if that’s what this even is. He probably just wants her to hang off him and only him. To be there when he deems it necessary to show her affection. I can’t help but feel bad for her. In places like the Heights, the girls have to be as bad as the guys or they have to be someone’ssomeone. The one person they’ll crawl through fire for. The girl they’ll take a bullet for.
Nevaeh’s definitely not it for Oscar. She’s better off trying with douchebag here and then hope he actually makes it into the Crew.
A hand smacks me in the chest. “What are you looking at, Skank?”
I fly back into my locker. I take a moment to breathe before glancing at Nevaeh. Her red-rimmed eyes are glassy. It’s obvious she’s taken what Oscar said hard, and now she’s taking it out on me.
I shrug, then try to move around them, catching Oscar’s eye as I do. He’s looking on with interest—and possibly a smirk—as Nevaeh uses me as a play to get him back.
“Don’t you dare look at him. You should be kissing his fucking feet.”
Her hand slams down on my shoulder and pushes. She succeeds in making me stumble, but it doesn’t take me to my knees like she wants. I try to shrug her off. “I’m just trying to get to class,” I say, even though I’m twitching to retaliate.
“You can go to class as soon as you kiss Oscar’s shoes,” Nevaeh says loudly enough for everyone to hear.