Page 12 of Bad Kind of Love

“Wes?” I question, taking matters into my own hands and opening her locker myself, while she continues to stare at me like I have two heads.

“Yah, Wes. The new guy. Super-hot, soon to be extremely popular and our new quarterback.” She goes on as I find a pink top shoved at the bottom of her swim bag.

“None of that crap means anything to me. He looks like every other jock in this school.” I lie. Looks wise, he was way above the guys at Westwood, but I would never in a million years admit that out loud.

Closing her locker, we walk down the hall to the girl’s bathroom. Locking myself into a stall, I peel the damp shirt off my body and toss it into my bag.

“I’m guessing you don’t know who Wes’s dad is then, right?” Josie announces from behind the stall door. Confused by her question, I start to pull my arms through the thin material of the shirt.

“No. Should I?”

“Well, you met him this morning.” She chuckles as I halt my movements.

Was she talking about Mr. Fitzgerald? Surely, she couldn’t be.

“Now we know where he gets his good looks from.” She sighs dreamily.

Huh.

Interesting.

Mr. Fitzgerald had a son. And they couldn’t look any more different than each other. A golden boy with charming and godly features who had the devil for a father.

Ok, maybe not the devil. But in my head, that’s what he would look like. Alluring and sinful.

Once I’m fully dressed, I step out of the stall and notice Josie checking herself out in the mirror. Her long auburn hair stuck straight down her back, almost appearing a copper color in the right light. A baby blue dress fell just above her knees, flowing out at the bottom, while the top stuck to her chest. A pair of black rimmed glasses were perched above her small nose as she scanned her body head to toe in front of the mirror. By the scowl across her face, I could tell she didn’t like what she saw.

Join the club.

“You look fine.” I reassure her because she did. She was beautiful even if she didn’t believe it herself.

“Thanks.” She grinned before turning to face me. “Pink looks good on you.” She teases, knowing pink is my least favorite color.

“Yah, whatever. I should’ve taken up the golden boy’s offer.” I peer down at the bright pink fabric. So much for staying invisible.

“Yah?” She wiggles her eyebrows at me suggestively.

“No.” I shake my head. “I know what you’re thinking. Just, no.”

“What?” She raises her hands up in defense, grinning ear to ear. “I wasn’t thinking anything.”

“Sure you weren’t.” I grumble. “When was the last time I had a boyfriend or even spoke to you about a guy in that way?”

Her eyebrows come together as if she’s trying to think of an answer. “Never.” She finally comes up with.

“Exactly.”

******

The rest of the day went smoothly, no run-ins with Wes or bitchy cheerleaders for that matter. After the final bell rang, I shot out of my chair, eager to get out of here. Following the crowd of students out of the classroom and into the hall, I made a beeline for the front doors. Once I stepped foot outside Westwood, I felt as though I could breathe again. Everything about school made me tense, even the atmosphere felt different from inside the building to outside. It's as though someone flicks a switch the minute you set foot inside the school, and your state of mind immediately turns to shit.

The sound of laughter soon catches my attention. It’s a loud obnoxious kind of laugh that makes you want to bang your head against something, and I have a strong feeling I know who it is. With the football field off to the right of the school, I notice Vicky and some other cheerleaders desperately trying to get the attention of one of the football players. Giggling and waving their manicured hands, they finally peak his curiosity as he jogs over to them. Watching closely, he peels the helmet off his head revealing sandy hair and aqua eyes that will forever be seared in my head. Scoffing, I knew he’d be like every other jock at this school. Entitled, arrogant and most of all privileged.

I watch as Vicky lays on the charm, twirling a strand of her dark curls while squeezing lightly onto his arm. This was her type of game, and she knew how to play it well. Giving her the same dreamy smile he just gave me hours ago, I can sense him succumbing to her allure. Rolling my eyes, I continue to stare until Wes lifts his gaze from Vicky. As if he could feel someone watching him, his eyes capture mine.

Shit!

Scrambling off the school sidewalk, I haul ass through the parking lot to my car.

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