“Oops.”
The word is accompanied by the splash of soda all over the floors I just mopped.
My head whips up as fury sparks in my veins. Paris and her primped little minions laugh like they’ve accomplished the coup of the century.
“Clean that up, Brahms.” Paris falls into the chair behind the teacher’s desk and kicks up her feet. “Dutch’s orders.”
I’m not sure what pisses me off more—that she’s here terrorizing me on Dutch’s behalf again or that she’s using his nickname to do it?
Paris and her airhead helpers are watching me closely to see what I’ll do. I refuse to give them the satisfaction of being flustered.
“Dutch sent you?” I ask.
Paris blows on her nails. “He wanted me to welcome you back to school. We missed you.”
My fingers tighten around the broom. I haven’t seen Dutch since that day in the hospital. After Vi came out of surgery, he stuck around long enough to make sure she was okay and then disappeared.
I’ve been out of school for a few days helping Vi recover while also taking on more shifts at the diner in order to start chipping away at the hospital bills.
When I went in to make my first payment yesterday, the admin told me we qualified for a special fund and that all the surgery costs, as well as the overnight stay and medication, had been covered.
At first, I was ecstatic.
Then I pressed her more about the program.
She started faltering over her words, giving me vague answers and eventually shut down all further questioning.
That sent my suspicions through the roof.
I don’t think Vi and I were randomly chosen for anything. We’re not that lucky.
The only explanation that makes sense is that Dutch paid the hospital bills.
But why? To prove he has money and I don’t? To make me owe him a favor?
Paris saunters closer to me. “I’ve always been curious about you, Cadence.” Her eyes are as flinty as knives. “Christa was obsessed with destroying you. Dutch was always watching you. Now, every post in Jinx’s app is about you and who you might be dating.”
“Are you saying I’m popular? Thanks, Paris.”
She folds her arms over her chest and looks me up and down. “I don’t get the appeal. You’re a nobody. Nothing.” Her eyes linger on my second-hand uniform. “Why is everyone so obsessed with you?”
“You tell me. You’re here trying to figure me out, aren’t you?”
Her smile is cruel. “I’ve tried to be nice, Cadence. I really have, but I don’t think I can let this slide anymore. It’s starting to annoy me.” She folds her arms over her chest. “You’re in my way.”
“You’ve mentioned that.”
She steps close to me. Her expensive perfume is a thick cloud around my face. “Oh, and one more thing, the next time you show up to one of my parties uninvited, I’ll have you escorted out. Don’t let all the attention get to your head. We don’t accept peasants like you in Redwood Prep.”
I seethe as she and her posse start flouncing to the door.
Paris might be right. I might be nothing to the students of Redwood Prep and even to Dutch, but I still matter.
And I’m done letting these rich pricks walk all over me.
“Hey, Paris!”
She whirls around.
“Watch me clean out the trash.” Grabbing the cleaning agent from my cart, I unscrew the top and toss it at her.
It lands on her clothes with a splat, drenching her perfect hair with the frost tips and splattering over her fancy Redwood Prep uniform.
An outraged gasp tears from Paris’s lips.
Her friends jump back to get out of the splatter zone and then they stare at her, eyes wide.
Paris’s voice turns into a witchy scream, “You—”
“What? What?” I step into her until we’re almost nose-to-nose. The pungent smell of chemicals and artificial lemon fragrance fills the air. “You think I won’t destroy you the way I destroyed Christa?”
Her eyes widen with horror.
“Mess with me again and I will move heaven and earth to end you.” I lower my voice to a volatile hiss. “You know what’s so great about being a nobody?”
Her bottom lip trembles.
“You have nothing to lose.” I throw the empty bottle of cleaning agent on the floor and stalk out of the classroom.
I’ll probably get in trouble for not finishing my work study, but I don’t give a damn. My entire body is piping hot.
When I enter the hallway, it’s still crowded with students. School ended just a few minutes ago, but I didn’t want to be late for my shift at the diner so I went straight to my assigned classroom to clean.
The school admin still haven’t approved my petition to do work study in the early mornings. Which means I’m stuck juggling my cleaning duties at Redwood, the diner and taking care of Vi all after school.
I feel like I’m being tugged in a hundred different directions and Dutch blowing hot and cold—staying with me in the hospital one minute, and then sending his flavor of the week to torment me in another—is not going to work.
People make room when I stalk past. I don’t know if it’s because they think I’m somehow related to Dutch or if they’re smart enough to read my expression and get out of the way.
I head straight for Dutch’s private practice room and bang my fist on the door. He appears in front of me, tall, gorgeous, and aggravating.
Dutch smiles. It’s not the charming smile that Zane is known for or the one of quiet amusement that makes Finn the unspoken heartthrob of Redwood Prep.
No, this is the smile that nightmares are made of.
His full pink lips stretch as if he’d been waiting for me to show my face. His blond hair lies messily over his forehead, and the brown of his Redwood Prep sweater vest brings out the dark honey of his eyes.
“Did you pay for Vi’s hospital bills?” I demand.
“What are you talking about?” He stares blankly at me. “What bills?”
What bills? Is he going to play dumb about it?
Dutch pulls off clueless so well. Maybe because he’s an empty shell of a person and has no problems lying or scheming into getting his way.
I wish a truck would charge into the school and run him over.
“Just let whoever paid know that we’re grateful, but they should never do that again. Also, I’ll pay them back.”
He leans against the door, assessing me. “How?”
“How?” I gulp. In the midst of my aggravation, I hadn’t accounted for that question to be volleyed back to me.
“How do you plan to pay them back, Brahms?”
I blink rapidly. “We can… maybe I can work out a payment plan.”
“Maybe? You sounded so sure a moment ago.” He steps forward and lets the door slam shut behind him. The little scanner on the side blinks red.
I creep backward. My heart lurches in my throat as Dutch advances on me.
“It even sounded,” he runs his fingers down my neck, “like you were willing to do anything.”
“Is that why you paid, you bastard?” I hiss, a slow, dangerous need burning between my thighs even as my heart screams with anger. “So that I’d have sex with you?”
“Have you?”
“Have I what?”
“Had sex.”
I bite down hard on my bottom lip. He’s standing over me, the king of the school, one finger swirling over my throat like he wants to control my pulse. His smirk is lazy, arrogant. His posture drips with self-assurance, even as his gaze burns my skin with heat.
“That’s none of your business.”
“I bet you haven’t.” He pins his fingers behind my neck and jerks me forward so his sneakers are kissing my tennis shoes. “I bet,” he leans down and runs his hot tongue down the curve of my neck, tasting my pulse, “that I’ll be your first, Cadey.”
His hand slides under my shirt, scalding my skin to unbearable temperatures.
My knees buckle, but I can’t fight the tension between us. A frightening feeling fractures my will power, like the hot, explosive asteroids that decimated the dinosaurs. It takes over my whole body as Dutch pulls me closer.
Still, I force myself to fight.
Gripping his arms with my fingers, I push him back.
He doesn’t budge an inch, but he does straighten, that lazy smirk still slashing across his handsome face.
“You will never take my virginity,” I spit, my chest heaving and the pulse between my legs in direct defiance to that statement.
Dutch leans down. I think he’ll try to kiss me, but he stops just shy of my lips. His eyes have darkened by a dozen shades, turning his amber eyes into an endless black hole. A perfect mirror of his blackened soul.
“I’m not going to take it, Cadey,” Dutch promises. His voice curls like smoke, enveloping me. Teasing me. “You’re going to give it to me.”
Jinx: Cinderella Against her Pompom Step-sister
It’s no surprise that the new head of the Pompoms is out for New Girl’s blood. After all, the vacuum left by her predecessor needs to be filled. And quickly.
But I wonder… what if all that animosity is about more than just claiming her throne? Sources say that our little Ms. Pompoms was left high and dry in the middle of a lake after Prince Charming had his way with her. Yet he just can’t seem to get enough of thrusting Cinderella into dark corners.
The path to true love really is riddled with broken hearts. And fancy yachts that stink of latex.
Something tells me that, in this story, Ms. Pompoms is nothing but the ugly step-sister.
Until the next post, keep your enemies close and your secrets even closer.
– Jinx
