Page 4 of Ride or Die
“Yes, move please,” I say bluntly, making a small smile creep up his face.
“Why?” He raises an eyebrow.
“Can you please just move? I have to catch the train to get home.” His smile gets bigger as he pulls his legs up, using his arm to gesture to the space in front of him.
I start to walk past when he speaks up again. “Your wish is my command, princess.” I ignore him because I know he is just trying to get a reaction out of me. I’m no stranger to bullying.
I can feel his eyes watching me as I exit the lecture hall, hurrying to the bus stop to wait patiently.
Across the way, I see Colton walking to his car with Serena Vanderhelt on his arm. Ultimate rich snobby bitch. They are a match made in heaven. She’s laughing and talking away as they reach his car, which of course is a sexy dark gray two-door Camaro with a V8 engine.
She giggles loudly as she hops in, but he stops at his door and stares over his car at me. A small smile tugs at his lips as he gives me a nod and a two-finger salute.
It's amazing how two people from the same place can be so different. While I can fantasize about being with a man likeColton, our lives are far too opposite. There’s not a chance in hell anything would ever happen between the ‘bad boy’ and the ‘good girl’.
CHAPTER
THREE
FIRST ENCOUNTER
LAYLA
I can’t believe I let Simone convince me to come here. This is so far from my scene, I stand out like a sore thumb.
My sister is trying to nail one of the infamous 'bad boys' Nate Campbell. From the looks of it, it may be working.
She’s giggling and he’s holding onto her as they whisper sweet nothings to one another and their lips occasionally meet. I may not want to be Simone, but I am jealous of the attention that men give her.
She said she needed a wing-woman so I reluctantly came along, and I’m immensely regretting it. Now that she’s latched onto Nate, I’m a third wheel to their public display of potential fucking.
Because we all know Simone and Nate will move on to someone else by morning. There is no affection here.
Even though she’s never had a solid boyfriend, guys still want and pursue her. She has friends like Serena and Brittany that she should be doing this with. I feel like she invited me to remind me how fucking pathetic and lonely my life is. I never come to these events for this very reason.
I don’t fit in.
I stand here awkwardly in a little black floral sundress and white cardigan, my hair braided to the side, pulling off the good girl look perfectly. Completely out of place compared to all the sexy crop tops and short-short toting women running around flirting with their equally hot male counterparts.
You can almost smell all the sex in the air.
I’m beginning to feel impatient waiting for this illegal street race to start. I hope to get the fuck out of here sooner than later. This whole situation makes me uncomfortable. Like, we’re in the middle of nowhere, on some abandoned road surrounded by fields, and this is the event to be at tonight?
A low rumble fills the air, the vibration penetrating me to my core as the Camaro pulls up to the starting line and idles.
The crowd gathers around to look at the machine and I see Colton Hawthorne get out. He pushes his messy hair out of his face, and now I recognize the car that’s arrived. He is emotionless as his eyes scan the crowd, bumping fists and shaking hands with his buddies who stop by to greet him.
Every time I look at him, I feel like I want to know more about the man behind his impassive, dark, and mysterious ways. But when I see him like this, interacting with his friends, I’m reminded that I never will.
I continue to admire how he moves effortlessly through the crowd of his fans and admirers, women throwing themselves at him and men wanting to be him.
He pauses when our eyes meet. I try to look away, but I’m drawn back to him. He continues to stare at me, a perturbed look on his face. Like he knows I shouldn’t be here.
His stare starts to roam my body, and shivers run up my spine. Holy fuck he’s intense. He finally pulls his gaze from me and turns his attention to a friend speaking to him, looking backat me once more before he walks off to chat with some other people.
By the looks of it, he has no clue why I would be at a place like this. And I’m currently a witness to the numerous crimes he could be committing. Gambling, car theft, illegal street racing, drugs.
Jesus. I’m so out of my realm that a gnawing anxiety settles in my stomach. This is not the type of situation I put myself into, and it is utterly terrifying. My chest grows tight. I need to get out of this crowd. It's suffocating.
