Sixteen years old
I‘ve never been a fan of Bayshore High.
Scratch that.
I’ve never been a fan of school, period.
Classes, teachers, grades…
Their demands of academic perfection do my head in.
I have no interest in learning a second language or the politics of this nation. I have no interest in discussing prose or poetry. If I can’t see its use for the future I’m about to lead, I don’t see the point in it. It’s all a fucking waste of time to me.
There are some precious few subjects that do spark my interest though.
Give me physics, geography, geometry, algebra, or trigonometry, and then you are guaranteed to have my full attention. Sure, they’re hard as fuck to learn, but they’re also the building blocks you need to be a good sailor. If you mess up on even one while you’re out in the vast, unforgiving ocean, you’re fucked. And if, by some miracle, I can afford to have my own sailboat one day, I’ll need that shit to survive on my own. There’s no time out there. No one you can call for help. No second chances to get it right. You either know your shit, or you have no business being out there in the first place.
And my place has always been out in the deep.
But as I said, these subjects aren’t for the faint of heart.
They’re grueling.
Especially for a guy like me, where nothing comes easy. Not even learning.
So is it any wonder why I’m fuming right now?
I’m supposed to be attentively listening to Mr. Evans solve the algebra problem he has on the whiteboard, but instead my head is on her.
Skylar.
Fuck.
Out of all the classes she had to be in, she just had to be in this one. My one. The one I’ve been working so damn hard since freshman year to master.
I fucking can’t catch a break.
Not only do I have to suffer walking around my house smelling her cherry blossom perfume everywhere, I now have to smell it here too. Since the big guy upstairs loves to fuck with me, he made sure that the only available seat in this whole classroom was right beside me.
So here I am.
Pissed beyond measure because for the remaining thirty minutes of this class, her very presence will be enough to distract me from what really matters.
The only thing that gives me some sadistic satisfaction is the way she’s cowering in her seat, that dark chestnut long hair of hers covering her entire face as if it is enough to protect her.
She’s hiding.
From me.
You can hide all you want, little stalker, but I see you.
The corner of my lip pulls upwards at the thought.
‘Ms. Ames,’ Mr. Evan calls out. ‘Can you tell me what I must do to solve this equation?’
Sky lifts her head and tugs her hair behind her ear, showcasing her long neck, to stare at the problem in question. She bites her fat bottom lip, taking a minute to consider all her options. I don’t even register her answer, but it must be right by the big bright smile that ends up cresting her lips.
And suddenly, my chest feels like someone just poured cement all over it. Because for that one split second—she’s happy.
Fuck her happiness.
Not wanting that smile to prolong, I extend my leg and kick her chair, startling her.
Silver eyes that remind me of pale moonlight stare at me in astonishment.
I offer her my cruelest smirk, and she throws me an aggravated glare in response. But her bravery is short-lived when a faint ‘stalker’ is mumbled from somewhere in the room. Sky immediately shrinks in her seat, head hung low, her hair once again, the curtain she pulls to keep prying eyes away from her face.
A better person would feel guilty for making her a pariah at school on her first day.
Me?
Not so much.
Misery loves company, after all.
And if I have to live in utter torment with this goddamn union my father forced on me, why shouldn’t she?
Only fair.
At least, that’s how I see it.
And who knows? Maybe I can make her life bad enough that she cries off to her mommy. Tells her how she hates it here. How she wants to move back to whatever hole they came from. Maybe it will be the wedge that comes between my asshole of a father and his wife—no harm in trying.
Shit can’t get worse than it already is.
When the sound of the bell rings, I curse under my breath, hating that instead of spending the time in class learning, I spent all of it thinking about Skylar.
The girl has been in my life for less than a couple of months, and already, she’s a pain in my ass.
Not wanting to be in the same place she is, I bolt out of my seat and make my way to my locker. On the way, my phone vibrates in my pocket, Stacy’s number flashing on the screen. I decline the call, not caring what she has to say.
I already know what’s on her mind.
Leave it to my ex to not care about the little blow job I got at my father’s wedding reception. Instead, she’s worried about the new stepsisters I just begrudgingly inherited. I could probably fuck the whole goddamn school, and Stacy wouldn’t bat an eye. But tell her that I’m living with two hot as fuck sisters, and she goes bonkers.
Not my problem.
‘Yo! Noah!’ someone calls out my name.
I bite my inner cheek when I realize it’s none other than Kyle and his steroid-aficionado besties.
He waves me over to his locker as if I’m some dog he can summon with a whistle. I have half a mind to ignore the prick, but my curiosity wins out.
‘What?’ I grunt the minute I reach him.
‘Is that any way to greet a friend?’ He laughs off.
‘We’re not friends. We just grew up together because this island is too goddamn small for us not to. Don’t get it twisted.’
I smirk when his All-American good ol’ boy mask falls a smidge.
‘You really have to get back with Stacy asap. You’re turning into an asshole,’ he teases, his way of trying to do damage control.
When I stand there, stone-faced, he quickly takes the hint that he needs to explain why he called me over here.
‘Look, Noah. I know we all live by the bro code and all, but would you be okay if you made an exception in my case?” he asks.
‘A second ago, you told me to get back with my ex, and now you’re asking for permission to date her?’ I laugh.
Have it.
Stacy would fucking eat you alive and spit out your bones before you could even blink.
‘Nah, man. I’m not talking about Stacy. I mean…Skylar.’
His friends begin to howl at his request while my blood starts to boil in my veins.
‘Dude, why the fuck are you interested in her? Have you seen her older sister yet? Daisy? I’d give my left nut for the girl’s digits,’ one of Kyle’s friends says, biting his knuckles to drive the point home.
All the guys start talking about how hot Daisy is, but it doesn’t go unnoticed to me how Kyle doesn’t join in, staring me down until I give him an answer.
Fucker.
He’s got his sights on the easy prey.
While every last guy at this school with a working pair of balls will be jonesing for Daisy’s attention, Kyle knows that Sky is easy pickings. The fucker sure didn’t waste any time moving in on her.
Not that I wasn’t expecting some asshole to try.
The whole school knew that both Ames sisters would attend Bayshore High. It had been the talk of the summer. Not only was the island reeling with the fact that my father remarried so soon after my mom passed away, but also that his new wife brought two teenage daughters to live with us.
Kyle probably got to school bright and early yesterday and waited to see the both of them arrive in the parking lot to make his pick. And then, to put his plan into action, he pretended to bump into them innocently, ensuring he’d be the first to creep his way into Sky’s life.
Of course, I don’t have any proof.
But I’ve known the fucker his entire life.
He might act like the boy next door, but he’s just like the rest of them—another rich asshole who needs the clout of having what others don’t.
His friends are now on their phones, drooling over Daisy’s IG account, asking if they, too, can break bro code. Like any of these motherfuckers live by any code.
‘So?’ Kyle insists. ‘Can I ask her out or what?’
I run the pad of my thumb over my lower lip, using his friends being distracted to my advantage. I lean into him, my head right next to his, and whisper, ‘I’d think twice before you ask me that question again.’
‘Yeah? Why?’ the arrogant fuck has the nerve to counter.
‘You heard the rumors,’ I explain, grinning when his body stiffens. ‘About how she likes to watch. Watch me, her stepbrother, get his dick wet. Hate to say it, Kyle. But I doubt after she’s seen what a real man can do, she’ll be interested in your two-inch cock.’
His nostrils flare, but he’s got the good sense not to say anything in return.
Good.
Smart.
I pull away and gift him my winning smile.
‘Need anything else?’
‘Nah, I’m good,’ he retorts coldly.
‘Glad to be of help then.’ I smile and walk away, feeling like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders.
Not that I care if Kyle tries anything with Sky.
I don’t care.
But knowing that I’m the only one that gets to play with Thatcher’s Bay’s new toy puts that added spring in my step. Maybe it wouldn’t be all that bad to keep her around a little longer after all.
It looks like it may have its advantages.
