Page 1 of Jagger
1
MOLLY
I hate Jagger Knox.
That's all I can think of as I shove through the crowd, trying to get to class despite my head throbbing from lack of sleep. How much I hate my best friend's cousin—and I don't hate lightly.
I dislike people, I get irritated, sure, but my hate is reserved for the absolute cunts of the world, which Jagger is.
Even the thought of his disgusting smirk and pretty boy looks make my stomach churn. He's everything I don't like in a man—stupidly attractive, knows it, rich, self-entitled, and arrogant. Not to mention obnoxious and whatever other adjectives I can throw at him.
My current favorite is rude.
I don't know many people who would turn a girl out of their house—no, the grounds of their house—when her best friend's life is at risk and said best friend is their cousin. He didn't think to ask how I was or offer me a glass of water.
He's disgustingly rude.
I feel better for slighting Jagger internally, but it doesn't prepare me for the wave of rage I get when I see him leaning against my locker, arms folded, that stupid smirk on his flawlessface. Despite not being here for years, he looks like he fits into this school like a glove. Aph's words echo in my mind: 'Money can buy you anything,' which clearly applies to Jagger Knox. Never would he have known what it's like to feel hunger or be ridiculed for being intelligent. Or abused and unwanted.
I scoff—Jagger wouldn't ever be unwanted.
The scores of girls drooling over him in the hallway tell me that.
I take a deep breath and arch a brow in his direction, trying to ignore the goose pimples on my skin. He has an irritating effect on my body. I know it's just evolution; my body wants to mate with his to produce offspring with the lightest blue eyes you've ever seen, with?—
"Seen enough?" Jagger flashes his pearly white smile as he pushes away from my locker, towering over me.
Wood spice floods my nostrils, and I cough, waving a hand in front of my face.
"Go easy on the cologne,bro." I yank my locker door open and throw my books in, moving my hand out just in time to avoid it being slammed in the door. Jagger's palm lies flat against the locker door, and I can't help but gape at him.
"Bro?" Jagger echoes, tilting his head with mock amusement. "I'm not yourbro."
"Good chat," I snap, whirling on my heel to walk away from him when he says my name.
"Molly."
I hate that I stop mid-step, but I do.
"Such a pretty name," Jagger purrs in my ear, sliding his arm around my shoulders.
I shrug it off, and he laughs, moving his mouth close to my ear.
"Shame you're such a slut."
My cheeks burn at his words, but I turn to him and step closer, hating the way my heart leaps around. "What do you want, Jagger?"
I don't know what it is with this piece of shit, but he insists on being a prick to me.
Jagger stares at me, his grin fading. His lips flatten as he crosses his arms and leans closer, our skin humming from the proximity.
"Who's Lawson?"
The name doesn't belong here, not in these halls. Not in this school or this town.Definitelynot on Jagger's lips.
"No idea," I say, praying my voice doesn't give me away.
I've faced bullies before, but Jagger is something else. Something worse.
