The Golden Boys: Chapter 24

We make the ride back to school with the windows up. The temp has dropped quite a bit since school let out. Scar and Jules are just as bubbly about being here as before, but neither has said a word to me about West. They had plenty of questions when they first heard he’d vandalized my car—via Pandora, of course—but I sidestepped each one until neither Scar nor Jules knew what to make of it. For now, no one has any idea how volatile things between us really are.

Even then, people aren’t sure what to believe.

Had West really done it? Or was it someone else?

Those are the whispers on the wind. Some assume it’s the result of a nasty fight that has since blown over. Which, ironically enough, has led them to believe West and I are more serious than anyone originally thought. However the heck that happens. Others question whether it has all been some sort of bitter retaliation on Parker’s part, for me stealing her guy or some shit like that. Guess this is what happens when there aren’t any pics, but only eye-witness accounts.

I’m sure the reason there are no pics is because whoever saw West tampering with my car was too afraid of him to take any.

Either way, whatever conclusions people have drawn, they’re wrong. That’s all I know.

I catch myself smiling when I turn into the lot, thinking of what I pulled off earlier, and also praying I covered all my tracks.

Scar looked at me like I was crazy when I went back to my car after scrubbing spray paint off my hands, then came into the house dragging two garbage bags filled with the football team’s extra pants. I’d return them eventually, but for now they’re mine.

I snagged them from the storage room in the field house during the pep rally. Actually, Lexi did that part, when she decided I had too much to lose if I got caught. Whereas she, on the other hand, could use the few days off if she got suspended over this. So, while she did her part, I did mine.

Which everyone attending this game will see soon enough.

I spot her just after I park, and the lot is already full. This year, the athletic department decided to hold the game earlier in the day, so students could just stick around after school to make sure the stands are at max capacity.

Good for optics. Good for funding.

Lexi waves me down and I usher Scar and Jules that way, introducing the three for the first time. Lexi admits she usually avoids these kinds of gatherings like the plague, but tonight’s extra special.

“Jules, Scar, this is Lexi. The one good thing about this godawful place,” I add.

Jules rolls her eyes, likely thinking I’m exaggerating, but she has no idea.

“Hey,” she says with a bright smile.

To which Lexi responds with a nod. “Hey.”

Scar waves and the next second, we’re on our way to the bleachers. My heart’s racing a mile a minute, but I play it cool. The crowd is already fired up, and there’s standing room only. However, our seats are reserved with a laminated sign for members of the paper.

Guess there’s one perk.

The crowd goes wild when the announcers talk over the loudspeaker, getting everyone hyped up about tonight’s big game.

The dance squad do their part to get fans riled up as well, and I’m holding my breath at the sight of the first black and gold helmet that takes the field. My eyes are glued to them all, waiting for West to make his appearance, and as expected, he’s last in line.

Then, a hush comes over the crowd when they lay eyes on him. Quiet murmuring follows as confusion spreads. My guess is they’re staring at the bright pink letters painted vertically down West’s pants that read: BITCH.

Seeing him out there, wearing my handiwork, I can’t possibly be more satisfied. It was the perfect storm. First, with the earlier than usual game time preventing anyone from coming to West’s rescue with a spare pair, and Lexi’s willingness to steal the extra uniform pants from the storage room, West was left with two options.

Sit this one out … or let the world know what he really is.

My bitch.

It takes everything in me not to glance over toward Lexi and smile. Especially when Scar starts asking questions about who would do such a thing. Jules passes me a knowing look, though, then lifts a hand to cover her laugh.

“Well, ladies and gentlemen, it appears we have a wardrobe malfunction of some sort on our hands,” one announcer explains.

I snort then. Can’t help it. While I would’ve liked for this to have stolen just an ounce of West’s confidence, it clearly has not. His head is still just as high as always, and he doesn’t look any less focused. But it wasn’t about that. This move was simply about me getting the win. And thanks to being on the newspaper, it will be memorialized.

Raising my phone, I snapped a pic. Whether I’m allowed to publish this baby or not, this is definitely my best scoop yet.

Cypress Prep sweeps the opposing team, like everyone knew they would. All with their beloved QB-1 sporting my pink paint job the entire game.

At one point, a woman I guessed to be his mother arrived with spare pants, but shaking his head, West refused them. Being the cocky bastard I’ve come to know him to be, it was probably a power play. His attempt at proving to me that I hadn’t gotten to him. A chance to show me that what I’d done couldn’t stop him being a beast on the football field.

Whatever the case, seeing how unshaken he was out there, still making plays with confidence, I liked it a little more than I should have.

Because I’m an idiot.

Scar’s already making her way back to the car, clutching her phone close to her face while she texts. Probably Shane, which is something I’ve been keeping a close eye on. Jules spots a couple girls she knows from volleyball, so it’s just me and Lexi, silently stewing in satisfaction for having pulled this whole thing off without a single hitch.

The smug grin I’m wearing has me feeling good for a while, and it’s only more pleasing when I spot West.

“Uh oh. Here come’s trouble,” Lexi announces, and then takes off before the storm in cleats and shoulder pads approaches. He’s with the team after having been bombarded by fans, but I have one hundred percent of his attention. And, like him, I can’t stop staring.

Soaked with sweat from head to toe, and keeping his eyes trained right in my direction, West reaches me. I’m not even shocked when he breaks from his team to step to me, invading my personal space like always. Only, he isn’t angry like I expect him to be. There’s something else that has his eyes wild this time.

Heat from his breath grazes my neck when he leans in to whisper.

“Well played, Southside,” he admits with amusement in his tone. “But you got one thing wrong.”

I’m shivering and it has nothing to do with the slight chill to the air, but has everything to do with inhaling the scent of his sweat. There’s something raw and primal about it that I’m not exactly hating.

“What’s that?” I finally ask, peering up into his bold eyes, feeling weak in all the wrong ways.

His lips move and I’m all ears.

“We both know which of us is really the bitch, don’t we?” he growls with a smirk.

I’m barely able to process the words when wet heat presses to my lips. The undiluted taste of him is everything to me in this moment, and I don’t even know what’s happening. Unsure of what to do with my hands, they move on their own, and the first place they go is into his warm, damp hair, drawing him closer as the helmet he carried settles against the small of my back.

His tongue pushes inside my mouth and, on instinct, I lean into him, proving him right yet again. He may be the one with the words printed on his uniform, but letting him kiss me like this—enjoying the kiss like this—says so much about me.

He pulls away and his dark stare burns through me, leaving me hot and flustered when he backs off. But he doesn’t leave without smacking my ass first, in front of everyone, marking his territory.

He wants them to think I’m his because he believes I find nothing more repulsive than that, but … I’m not sure what I’m thinking at the moment. However, I’m suddenly aware of having so many eyes on me now.

Most notably, Parker’s.

There’s more hatred in them than usual, more of that icy vibe that’s always bouncing off her. She passes by without a word, but I feel exactly what she’s thinking: I’m in her way, blocking her path to West.

Even though the attention I get from him is pretty damn negative, it’s more than she thinks I deserve.

More than she’ll allow.

Feeling self-conscious having everyone’s attention, I cross both arms over my chest and chew the side of my lip. Then, I start fast-walking it to my car.

What is wrong with me?

I’m screwed up in ways I didn’t even realize, but what’s surprising is … I’m beginning to think West and I suffer from the same strain of stupidity. And, as wrong as I know this is, I’m finding the idea of exploring our warring, explosive natures less and less appalling.

Call me crazy.