Chapter Two
I can’t believe this. I don’t need some scrawny prospect following me around my classes like a guard dog. My father doesn’t care about me or my sister. His choices since I was born have proven time and again how little he loves me. If he ever has, it would be news to me. I can’t even remember the last time I had contact with him.
He walked straight past me like a stranger the last time I crossed his path. He looked right through me. Inconsequential. That’s exactly what he is. I hate him. Sometimes I wish he would disappear forever. None of my friends understand what it has been like for me. I’ve always been in my sister’s shadow. She’s older and prettier. Looks like our mother and has her long legs. I was cursed with inheriting my father’s genes. I’m short with wide hips and thick thighs. But she actually has some good memories of our father. I have none. Not even bad ones, really. He’s never been present.
I stare at this goofball with thick brows, wondering how he got volunteered for my protection duty. He doesn’t look that strong. He’s tall and lanky, but he does have killer ink and nice brown eyes.
Not that I care. He could look like Hyunjin, one of my favorite K-Pop singers. I wouldn’t be interested. Not when I’ve been working overtime to get Jonesy Ripley to notice I’m alive. He’s the hottest senior and I’ve had a crush on him since he transferred to our school last year.
No one has been able to land him, and I’ve made it my personal mission to be asked to homecoming by him. I even talked Sam into nominating me for homecoming queen. Not that I expect to win against Lisa Nichols, the captain of the cheerleading team. The only reason she’s not on Jonesy’s arm is because she’s been dating Bobo Spradlin since freshman year and he’s a monster in size. Dude could squish pumpkins between his thighs. He’s been wrestling since he was a toddler.
This prospect had better not mess this up for me. I’ve been going to every game to cheer for Jonesy. Sitting by him and his meathead friends at lunch. Doing anything and everything short of throwing myself at him to catch his eye.
Of all the days to place me under club protection, my uncle just had to pick the day I’m hoping my number one crush will ask me out. That’s not going to happen with Jimmy stuck up my ass. I know it isn’t the prospect’s fault. I know how the hierarchy in the motorcycle club works. My sister got with Navarro when he was prospecting and now our mom is dating Prodigy, another Royal Bastard club member. I’ve grown up around the motorcycle club since my Uncle Link is a member.
I’m not new to any of this. Danger and threats have always been a part of our lives by association. I just never thought I would ever be a direct target, and by my sperm donor at that.
Jimmy follows me into the auditorium, and I hurry him to the changing rooms before my classmates or Mrs. Bledsoe lay eyes on him.
“Lock the door and don’t unlock it for anyone. Give me your phone number and I’ll text you when it’s safe to come out.”
“Shouldn’t I be the one protecting you? I can’t keep you safe from a locked room.”
“I didn’t ask you to be here.”
“I’m not happy about this situation either.”
“Don’t care. Let’s just make it through the day so we can both move on with our lives. He’s not going to show up in the middle of my class.”
“Right.” He grabs my phone and types his information in. He snorts as a message from Sam flashes across the screen.
“Don’t read my text.”
“Kind of hard not to.”
“Ugh. Just stay out of my business.”
He hands my device back. “What’s your number? I’ll save it under brat.”
“Ha. Ha. There’s no time. I’ll message you. Stay put.”
“Why? Afraid Jonesy will see us together.”
“Yes. And never read my messages again.” I stomp off to class before I get marked absent.
Jerk.
Guys are the worst.
I take my usual seat at the back of the room to hide. I only took this class because I needed an elective. I’m only passing the class because I’ve been helping paint the set for the Christmas play. The only thing I enjoy about school is seeing Jonesy between classes. My daily routine hinges on passing him in the hallway. Yesterday he smiled at me. Today has to be the day he’s going to ask me to homecoming.
All my subtle hints are bound to pay off.
I spend most of third period daydreaming about him asking at the end of the day right before he has football practice. I made sure to dress extra cute today for the occasion. I wore the perfect fall dress that pairs with my sister’s jean jacket she forgot about when she moved in with Navarro. I take my compact out of my purse and make sure my makeup doesn’t need a touch up.
Sam thinks he’s going to ask me.
It’s destined to happen.
I pull out my phone and look at Jonesy’s latest Snap. Man, the muscles on him. I wonder if the prospect has an account. I look him up using his phone number. He doesn’t have a profile, but he does have an Instagram account. There’s only one post. I can tell by the background of his selfie that it was taken behind the clubhouse.
What a dork.
The bell rings and I seriously consider leaving the prospect locked up in the changing rooms, but I don’t want to catch hell from my Uncle Link.
I’m about to fetch him when Bethany shoves her way through the people attempting to leave class.
“Sooo are you going to tell me who the guy was who was walking you to class earlier?” She looks around me, as though she expects Jimmy to materialize out of thin air.
“What are you talking about?”
“Your biker hottie boyfriend.”
“Shh. Keep your voice down. You know how protective my uncle can be. It’s nothing. But seriously, don’t tell anyone he’s here. Pinky swear.”
Bethany makes the motion of locking her lips and throwing away the key. She knows better than to go blabbing about club business. She’s related to my Aunt Pam through marriage or something and thinks that makes us family. She’s super annoying, but I do my best to tolerate her.
“What is it you think you know, anyway?”
“Nothing. I saw the two of you and recognized him from the last cookout Pam let me go to. Is he your boyfriend?”
The easier answer would be to lie and tell her yes. One thing about news here is it travels fast, and I need to make sure she doesn’t go spreading gossip about me that could reach Jonesy. “You know how it is. I can’t talk about why he’s here.”
“Think you can introduce me? He’s so hot.”
“No way. He’s too old for you.” Bethany is only a sophomore. She has no business lusting after Jimmy.
“You like him.”
“Ew. No way. “
“Hmm,” she muses.
“Look. Just keep it quiet and maybe I’ll let you sit with us at lunch tomorrow,” I lie. I doubt he’ll be back tomorrow.
“Bet,” she says and practically skips out the door.
Ugh.
Though I’d rather pluck my eyelashes out with the world’s smallest tweezers than have lunch with this guy, I can’t have him getting busted for lurking around the school, either. I find him sprawled on the worn-out sofa like he’s at home, phone in hand.
I sniff the air, smelling smoke. “Were you smoking in here?” I accuse.
“No.” he jumps up quickly, scrambling to shove his phone in his back pocket. “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, it’s perfect. Come on. It’s lunchtime. Put this on.” I grab him someone’s forgotten hoodie hanging on the back of a chair. “Pull the hood up and stick with me.”
Thankfully, he doesn’t argue and hands me his leather jacket to put the hoodie on, even though it’s at least a size too small and he looks silly.
I shove his leather jacket into my locker, noting it smells like his cologne. Spicy with a hint of smoke.
I secure us an empty table that sits farthest away from Jonesy Ripley and his buddies.
Jimmy plunks down in a seat, dropping his backpack on the floor.
“Watch my stuff. I’ll get us a tray. And don’t talk to anyone or draw attention to yourself.”
“Yeah, babe. I’m aware.”
“Don’t call me babe.”
“Sure thing, brat.”
“Whatever.” I glance back at him to see him staring at his phone, tight faced. What crawled up his ass?
I’m not that difficult.
Okay. Maybe I’ve been a little rude, but no one would be happy about the situation I’m in. having to worry that my father will show up and do something outrageous or hurt me to get at my mother while navigating my senior year.
I look over to where Jonesy and some of the other players from the team are seated and wonder if he’s noticed that I’m not sitting by them today. I hate how much I overthink every single thing.
I wish he would ask me to the dance already. I should have listened to Kimber when she said to make him chase me. But I don’t exactly know how to do that.
My phone buzzes and it’s a text from Jimmy.
Hey brat, grab me something to drink.
He’s got some nerve. How’d he get my number so fast? Probably my uncle.
I roll my eyes at his demand and reluctantly grab a can of Cherry Coke for him from the vending machine and a juice for myself. I pay extra for a second serving of chicken tenders. I don’t know what Jimmy’s preferences are, but surely everyone likes chicken tenders and mashed potatoes.
I slide the tray onto the table and hold out the can of pop for him. “Do you like Cherry Coke?”
“Not really.” He snatches my juice off the tray instead and pinches a corner of the roll to dip into the mashed potatoes.
“Everyone likes Cherry Coke,” I grumble.
“Let me guess. Jonesy loves Cherry Coke.” His voice comes out acidic, dripping with sarcasm. “Shouldn’t you be having lunch with him and bringing him a Coke?”
“None of your business.”
“Come on. Point him out. I need to see this kid.”
I ignore him. There’s no way I’m letting him know who Jonesy is. He’ll probably do something to embarrass me in front of him on purpose. “You do know there’s an extra fork you can use and don’t eat all the mashed potatoes.” I elbow him in the rib as I scootch in next to him to share my tray, temporarily forgetting my annoyance at his intruding on my day.
“Sorry, brat.” He grins at me, twisting the tray around so that the mashed potatoes face me.
“You’re such a slob.” I laugh, handing him a napkin to wipe the food away from his mouth.
“You’re really not going to point him out? Is he even here?”
I shrug. “You know how it is for football players.”
“Not really.”
“Everyone always wants a piece of them.”
“Maybe you should go for someone less popular then.”
“That’s part of the appeal.”
He frowns at me like my answer disappoints him. “So, you’re one of those types.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“The kind of girl who only goes after someone for their looks and their status. Doesn’t matter if the guy is a dickhead as long as he’s popular.”
Clenching my fork, I stab a chicken tender, aggressively. “What would you know about it? Jonesy’s nice. Mostly. I don’t care that he’s the captain of the football team. You wouldn’t understand.”
Jimmy shrugs. “Trust me. I get it more than you know. Gotta climb the social ladder or else you won’t get invited to the parties.”
“Let me guess. You never got invited.” I smirk. “I bet you would have loved to have been popular when you were in school.”
“I used to think so.”
“What changed?”
“I graduated and realized it didn’t matter what anyone thought of me. What mattered was what I think of myself, and I happen to like me.”
“Did you read that on a fortune cookie or read it on a quote somewhere?”
“Nope. Are you going to point this crush of yours out or what?”
Ugh. He’s so annoying that I almost miss Bethany.