The Golden Boys: Chapter 8

“So, YOU’RE the one Pandora’s been going on about? The one KingMidas is into? OMG, Blue, you’re basically famous!”

Rolling my eyes at Scar’s text, I shove the phone down in my pocket. She likely hadn’t made the connection until this morning’s post referencing Hunter. Leave it to my sister to see the silver lining in this fiasco.

Leave it to my sister to think West Golden is a god.

Demon is more like it.

It’s true what they say. Speak of the devil and he shall appear. Or, in this case, think of the devil and he shall appear.

I spot him across the courtyard. There’s no denying how good it would feel to rush across the lawn, march right up to their table, and dump that entire can of soda on his head. Instead, with Ms. Pryor’s words from a few hours ago still fresh in my brain, I just stare as he chugs it down. This guy doesn’t have a care in the world.

When he lowers the can from his lips with a smirk, nodding once in my direction, it’s like he’s taunting me. King Midas knows he’s untouchable, knows I’m alone here.

Clutching the edges of my lunch tray so tight I could snap it in half, I double back toward the cafeteria, deciding I’ll eat inside. Beats having to stare at his hateful mug while I eat.

I only grip the handle when my name is called. Well … a version of my name, anyway.

“New Girl.”

Peering up, there’s only one person close enough for me to have heard her voice. A girl propped against a tree, not making eye contact as she discreetly puffs smoke from the side of her mouth.

“Are you … talking to me?” I ask. Maybe I was mistaken, because I have no clue who she is.

“You’re the one Pandora calls New Girl, right? The one from the posters?”

Great. Just how I want to be identified. “Yeah, unfortunately.”

She flicks ashes from the end of the cigarette hidden behind her thigh, out of sight from the teachers and monitors hanging around. Dark, inquisitive eyes look me over as a breeze incites an explosion of long, black curls that frame her face.

“Who’d you manage to piss off so early in the game?” I don’t miss the smile that accompanies the question. It isn’t menacing.

Taking slow steps toward her, still holding my tray, I sigh. “Eh, you know. A little bit of everyone, apparently.” That’s all I’m willing to say, hoping to avoid widening the target on my back even more.

An easy laugh puffs from her mouth before dropping the butt of a cigarette in the grass. The sole of her heavy boot comes down to snuff it out. Then, she eyes me again, with the same scrutiny as before.

“You got a real name?”

“I do,” is the only answer I give, and my response seems to amuse her.

“Just what the world needs. Another smart-ass,” she points out. “Fine. Name’s Lexi Rodriguez. You are?”

Her feigned politeness draws a laugh from me, too. “Wait. Did you not read the posters? Someone made sure everyone knows who I am.”

Her shoulders lift with an indifferent shrug. “I skimmed but stopped when I realized it was just more of the usual toxic bullshit that circulates around here. These robots thrive on grinding each other’s self-esteem to dust.”

Lexi’s perfect description of West has me glancing at him again and, sure enough, he’s watching.

“I’m Blue,” I finally answer. “And, before you ask, that’s not short for anything. It’s just Blue.”

“Wasn’t gonna ask,” she replies.

With how everyone else here seems hyper obsessed with others’ business, her statement comes as a surprise. Then again, there’s a laidback vibe about her that seems genuine.

My guard lowers just a little, and I drop down to sit in the shadow beneath the thick canopy of branches and leaves. I’m starving, so I immediately start in on the apple and yogurt I grabbed from the lunch line. Being careful, of course, to avoid foods that set off my allergy.

Peering up, I watch as Lexi slides down the tree trunk to sit, too. Seeing she’s currently snacking on nothing but a bag of peanut M&M’s, I hold out the bag of chips I hadn’t touched yet.

“I’m not gonna eat these. You should take them,” I suggest.

Pretty sure she’s not light on lunch because she can’t afford more, but knowing what it’s like to go hungry, I’m still inclined to offer.

That wild, beautiful hair of hers quivers when she shakes her head. “I’m cool,” she answers, but then holds her bag of candy out to me. “Want some?”

“Would, but things go bad for me when nuts are involved.”

When she smiles, I know she’s about to say something crass. Jules always does when I’m not careful of my wording.

“Things always go bad when nuts are involved. Pretty sure it has something to do with the dudes they’re attached to, though.”

My smile widens. “Facts.”

She’s quiet for a second, but then scoffs suddenly. Like there’s a bad taste in her mouth or something. However, when I look up and follow her gaze, she’s eyeing West’s table and I get it.

There, he and his brothers sit front and center, like royalty. Surrounded by their crowd of underlings, each one vying for just a morsel of the trio’s attention. It’s disgusting the way they fall over themselves, just for a chance of being accepted into their world.

Pathetic.

“They’re all just so … fake,” Lexi declares, and I don’t disagree.

“Those are the future leaders of Cypress Pointe,” I say back, adding a lackluster, “Lucky us.”

“Thing is, some of them weren’t always so pretentious. Seems like the moment we got to high school, the girls turned into blithering idiots who only make moves that earn the attention of some guy. Meanwhile, the dudes became pussy-crazed nymphos who think the sun rises and sets on their asses.”

“I think that epidemic is widespread, even beyond Cypress Prep. Unfortunately,” I add. “Boys, in general, suck.”

Nodding, she doesn’t object to the point I’ve just made. “Do you know who everyone is yet?”

I shake my head instead of speaking with my mouth full.

She points and I cast my gaze on West and crew once again.

“Tall Brunette is Parker Holiday—head of the dance squad, head groupie of the Golden boys. West, in particular,” Lexi adds. “Daddy owns a few luxury car dealerships across the state.”

The designer handbag perched on the table in front of Parker suddenly seems fitting, considering the fortune I imagine her father has amassed.

“The two blondes beside her are Ariana and Heidi. Both rich. Both on the dance squad,” Lexi continues. “The other brunette and the red head are also on the squad, but I can’t remember their names, which goes to show how important they are.”

Laughing, I lean back to rest on my palms, balancing the tray on my lap.

“The three seated directly across from the triplets are Austin, Trip, and Ryder—more football Neanderthals. And the chick who’s almost too pretty to look at, the one with the braids sitting next to Dane, is Joss Francois,” she explains.

“Another groupie?”

I expect Lexi to confirm my suspicion, but she doesn’t.

“Far from it. Peep that disinterested, ‘I’d rather be at the beach’ look on her perfectly made-up face,” Lexi answers. “I’m actually willing to bet she’s the only chick at that table who was invited to sit there.”

Admittedly, I’m intrigued. “What’s her story?”

“Well, she’s super smart. As in, our most likely candidate for valedictorian,” Lexi shares. “Daddy’s in politics and Mom’s Chief of Staff at Cypress Pointe Memorial Hospital. She also has this super loaded uncle who’s top dog at a major marketing firm. As if they don’t already have enough money, her parents are shareholders in a few startups that took off. To summarize, Joss is what I like to call rich, rich,” Lexi jokes.

“Sounds accurate,” I say, eyeing the lineup at that table. Their carefree demeanors, their outward perfection.

“She and her parents spent the entire summer visiting extended family in Haiti and Cuba,” Lexi continues. “And who can forget her sweet-sixteen on their yacht a couple years ago? I wasn’t invited, but Pandora posted all the pics. I’ve even heard rumors that she’s got a solid gold bust of herself showcased in her bedroom, but that’s probably not entirely true,” she mumbles. “But, yeah, she is one of the dancers. However, she’s not like the other girls. At least not in the Golden boys’ eyes. They respect her; therefore, the entire football team respects her, which means so does everyone else because we’re, apparently, all mindless drones when all is said and done.”

Well, at least I have one of my questions answered. I knew the guys were athletes, but it’s now been revealed that football is their sport. Still, I don’t quite understand what it is about Joss that’s earned her such high esteem. I study her during a quiet moment. She’s remarkably gorgeous, yes, but so are all the other girls. Besides, I know for a fact that a girl’s good looks don’t make her an automatic shoo in for respect.

“So, what’s the deal? She dating one of them or something?”

Lexi’s brow arches upward. “Nope, but she and Dane are besties, which is almost the same, I guess. They’ve been tight since, like, early middle school. Everybody knows he’d get on that if the opportunity arose, but it’ll never happen. They’re complete opposites.”

After taking a sip, I lower the water bottle from my lips before speaking. “How so?”

“Well, for one, he’s had more girls on their backs than all the gynos in the county combined. Meanwhile, Joss is a known virgin. The wicked playboy and the angel don’t exactly scream ‘match made in heaven’,” she points out.

A laugh slips when I realize how ridiculous that sounds. “I’m sorry but ‘known virgin’? What does that even mean? How could anyone possibly know something like that for certain about a person?”

Lexi chuckles while explaining. “I mean she’s, literally, taken a vow to save herself for marriage. Granted, I think it’s something her parents put her up to, but she wears this symbolic ring and everything. Takes it pretty seriously from what I hear.”

The dynamics of their group are interesting enough, but I still see them all as a bunch of arrogant tools who’d plaster an entire hallway with one, unsuspecting girl’s dark secret.

“But enough about Cypress Prep’s royal court,” Lexi says with a sigh. “How are you liking your classes so far?”

My shoulders lift with a shrug and I sink my teeth into the apple again. “Fine, I guess. Same shit, different side of town.”

Although, my day had gotten off to a particularly ugly start.

“I actually got some pretty good teachers this year,” she comments. “At least, most of them seem chill.”

I nod, thinking to myself that I’d settle just for not having any classes with the triplets. So far, I’d gotten lucky, but there were still three class periods for all that to change.

“What’s your elective?” she asks.

“Mm … I got placed in Gym this semester, but not by choice. Pretty sure they gave me whatever scraps were left.”

I assume that’s how it goes for ‘scholarship kids’ like me.

“What hour?”

It takes a sec to remember, since I don’t yet know my schedule by heart. “Sixth, I think.”

“Sweet. Looks like we’ll be suffering through that one together,” she replies.

“Cool! Should make things more bearable.”

She nods casually before checking her phone. “Shoot. I gotta run and catch my weed guy. He bails from his post about five minutes before the bell rings.” I watch as she quickly gets to her feet. “In the meantime … don’t let this place steal your soul,” she warns. “Happens easier than you think.”

After that, she walks off, disappearing inside the building in search of her ‘weed guy’ or whatever. It’s just me again, although I feel someone watching. Even before I search for his heartbreaker-greens across the courtyard, I know it’s freakin’ West. Unable to fight it, I let my eyes wander until locking with his.

Only, he’s closer than expected, because he’s coming right this way. Like the stalker he is.

Suddenly feeling a loss of appetite and wanting to avoid whatever his evil ass has in mind, I toss what’s left of my food into the trash bin. My hope when I hightail it toward the door right after is that I’ll make it inside before he reaches me. However, just as I snatch the door open, it’s slammed shut and a large hand catches me across my torso.

Hot, lengthy fingers splay across my bare skin when his palm lands just beneath the hem of my cropped t-shirt. I’m spun quickly to face him, then those inked arms cage me between his impressively massive body and the glass. Having flashbacks of being cornered just like this a few days ago, one fist tightens at my side while I’m contemplating smacking him with the tray I have in the other.

“I see you’ve made a friend,” he teases, grinning like the villain he is. “Makes sense the two of you would link up.”

I fight the urge to ask what that means, knowing he won’t explain.

“What do you want, West?”

With my question, the small space that exists between us suddenly disappears.

“Just making sure you enjoyed that little surprise I arranged for you this morning,” he growls against my ear, moving strands of my hair with his breath. “I sure did.”

I’m, legit, quivering as my eyes dart around, wondering why none of the monitors have stepped in. But I suppose, from a distance, it might be difficult to tell what’s going on exactly. West isn’t using much force, and with the sick smile he’s wearing, this could look like something else. Like something startlingly less awful than the truth.

I’m sure Pandora will have a field day, likely labeling it foreplay.

“Get away from me!” My voice isn’t loud, but it’s forceful, leaving no room for him to misunderstand the seriousness of it.

“Get away from you?” he asks incredulously, leaning away as he pops a brow. “But I’m just getting started.”

There’s a promise embedded in those words and they fill my very soul with dread. Because, beyond the shadow of a doubt, I know he means them.

“You’d be wise to watch your back,” he warns in a low, gravelly whisper. “I’ve sicced the dogs on you now, so I’m not the only one you need to look out for. I’ve only brought the girls up to speed for now, but they definitely won’t be playing nice.”

The sense of dread deepens with what I imagine that means, and I’m sure he notices. The stare-down between us intensifies and I want to knee him in his balls. Especially when that dark gaze of his unhurriedly slides from my lips, down my neck where I feel my pulse throbbing, to my breasts.

His expression shifts then, but his eyes stay glued to me. Within his gaze, there’s a strange mix of raw lust and hatred and, apparently, it’s contagious.

Because now, I feel it, too.

His heartbreaker-greens flash up to me again and the evidence of his need quickly burns away, like it never existed. It leaves behind only the fury I’m used to seeing there. Maybe even more than usual, and I’m not sure I realized that was possible.

“You should’ve stayed in the gutter you crawled out of,” he growls, “but since you’re here, guess that just means I get to enjoy destroying you,” he promises.

I’m sick of his arrogant ass, his bullshit threats, all of it. So much so, I’m nearly frothing at the mouth with rage, like a rabid dog waiting to attack.

Feeling a bit bolder than usual, I crane my mouth toward his ear this time, making sure he hears me clearly.

“There are lines you do not want to cross,” I warn. “I’m sure no one’s ever called you on your shit, but I’m not like the rest of them. I’m not here to be lorded over like one of your peasants.”

A quiet laugh escapes his lips when he lowers his head. The sick bastard actually likes it, being challenged, talked to like this. I can see it when his dark stare returns to mine and that thick vein in the side of his neck throbs.

“That’s what I like to hear, Southside. Keep it interesting for me,” he croons.

Those are his parting words, as the space between us widens again. The moment I realize he’s leaving, my breaths deepen with relief. I’m still the only thing he’s focused on as he backs away, until he turns and trudges back toward his table with that cocky ‘the world is mine’ stride that used to be such a turn-on.

Before I saw the real him, anyway.

It takes everything in me to suppress a growl. Initially, I believed this feud between us was all about status, his belief that I don’t belong here at his school. But with the stunt he pulled this morning, and the way he came at me just now, it feels more personal than that.

Deeper than that.

It’s as though I’ve somehow wounded him without realizing it and he needs me to feel his pain.

All of it.

His obsession with ruining me runs deeper than I thought, which drives my need to understand why. At least then, I’ll know what I’m up against, giving me a chance of defending myself.

Or … maybe I’m looking at this from the wrong angle. Maybe I should be doing my bit to get dirt on him. As in, fight fire with fire.

The tricky part will be discovering a way to level the playing field without ruining my chances of succeeding here at Cypress Prep.

It’s a very tall order to fill, but I have to try.

With his latest threat, everything important to me could be riding on this. I will not let West Golden win.

At least, not without a fight.