“Oh no, Jason still has more than enough time to make my life hell. But don’t worry.” I flashed her a secretive smile. “I’m plotting his demise as we speak.”
She grimaced. “Not that I haven’t enjoyed you putting him in his place a time or two over the last few years, but don’t you think you should maybe... back off? He was bad last year but this year he’ll be...” She shuddered, not finishing her thought.
Flick was right.
Ever since Jason and I were forced upon one another in sixth grade, when his dad and my mom announced they were moving in together, we’d been at war. Jason didn’t want a sister and I had no time for a brother. Especially one as annoying and conceited as Jason. We were polar opposites—him: popular and athletic; and me: artsy and free-spirited. Jason lived and breathed football, like most of Rixon. But not me. I barely even knew the rules of play. Needless to say, as we got older, the rift between us only grew. He loved nothing more than to piss me the hell off and I loved nothing more than spending my days plotting my sweet revenge.
“Just because everyone else thinks the sun shines out of his ass, doesn’t mean I have to lie down at his feet and take his shit.”
Flick’s brow shot up. “He does have a rather fine ass though.”
“Take that back.” I almost choked on a mouthful of Pop-Tart. “Take that back, right now.”
“What?” Her soft laughter filled the car. “I’d never sample the goods, but it doesn’t hurt to look.”
“Oh my god, I can’t listen to this. Not first thing on a Monday morning.” I jammed my fingers in my ears, but she wouldn’t shut up.
“Don’t tell me you’ve never had a sneak peek at the guys when they’re over? You must have checked out Asher or Cameron’s—”
“Felicity Giles, who are you and what have you done with my best friend?”
“What?” She grinned. “I’m just saying, I’m all for hating on the football team, but it doesn’t mean we can’t appreciate their physical—”
“Stop.” I leaned over clapping my hand over her mouth. “Would you just stop, already?”
I didn’t want to think about Jason and his friends that way. Especially not Cameron Chase. He had reveled in making my life miserable as much as my step-brother ever since we started junior high together. Granted, it hadn’t always been that way. When we’d first moved in with Jason and his dad, Cameron had been a buffer to his best friend’s open-hostility toward me. For the last five months of sixth grade I’d foolishly believed we might become friends. But then the summer before junior high happened and everything changed.
Everything.
And I realized Cameron Chase was a douchebag just like my new step-brother.
Rixon High School came into view and Flick pulled into the parking lot, her vintage yellow Beetle sticking out like a sore thumb next to all the shiny new Hondas and Fords. Like me, my best friend didn’t conform to the masses. We climbed out and made our way toward the school building, and all my earlier anger dissolved at the prospect of getting back in the studio. Unlike most of my classmates who were excited to be back amongst their friends, reliving memories of their summer escapades, I was itching to get back to class, notably art class.
“Breathe it all in.” Flick inhaled deeply as we reached the doors. “Our last first day at high school. We’ll never start a new year here again. Next year, we’ll be freshmen.”
I grabbed the door handle and glanced back at her. “We’d better make it count then.” I smiled. A genuine honest-to-god smile. Because she was right.
One year.
I only had to survive one more year. Of this town and its beloved football team; of my step-brother and his asshole friends.
Then I’d be free.
But despite my excitement at what the future held—far far away from Rixon, if I had anything to do with it—it was senior year, and I intended on making the most of it.
Then a familiar voice washed over me, a cruel reminder from the Universe that while I still roamed the halls of Rixon High, there was no escaping them.
“Looking good, Sunshine.”
My eyes snapped up to find Cameron Chase, Rixon Raiders star wide receiver and my step-brother’s best friend, smirking at me. “You know I don’t like being called that,” I said calmly, schooling my irritation.
“I know,” he replied with an air of indifference, his shoulders lifting in a shrug. “Nice ti… t-shirt.” His gaze dropped to my chest before lifting slowly to my face again, amusement dancing in his murky blue eyes. “Is it cold in here or are just happy to see me?”
Cameron winked, before slipping around me and Flick. He shoved my hand off the door handle and I jerked back, caught off-guard by the tiny bolts of electricity shooting through me. He paused for a second, looking at his hand, before shaking his head and ducking inside the building, letting the door slam closed behind him... and right in my face.
With a heavy sigh, I yanked it open and slipped inside, Flick trailing after me. “Just look at that ass,” she whispered, leaning in close, watching Cameron’s retreating form as kids tripped over themselves to move out of his way. But I wasn’t looking at his ass. My eyes were burning into the back of his head, imagining all the painful ways I could hurt him. He glanced over his shoulder, our eyes locking, and I let out a frustrated groan.
I knew that look.