“I don’t want to know anything. I just want to finish up this year and go.”
“What if we can make it a little more fun for you?” He stroked the flesh of her neck, right next to her pulse. He smiled as her pulse seemed to jump against his touch.
She didn’t like this one bit.
Being trapped against his locker, being under his spell, liking how he felt against her body.
She was better than this.
Gripping his shoulders, she tried to push him away. Suddenly, Buck and Jett were there. Their hands gripped her wrists, pushing them flat against the locker.
The threat was there. Against the four of them, she didn’t stand a chance. They were always together, always working as a team.
“You know I’ve hurt guys for less than what you’ve done?”
“What’s the matter? Not used to a girl pissing you off?” she asked.
“I’m used to them being on their knees worshiping my cock.”
“You’re a pig.”
“And I want to hurt you right now. You’ve dented my locker.”
“You’ve taken something of mine, and I want it back.”
“I stopped some fuckers from taking shit from you.”
“Give it back.”
“No.”
She pressed against Jett and Buck and still couldn’t get free. Draven leaned in close, the tip of his nose brushing her cheek.
The action took her completely by surprise. She froze in place, not really sure what to do.
“Tell you what, why don’t we make a trade?” he asked.
“I’m not trading anything.”
“You want your jacket back, you come to me at my place Friday night. You don’t, you don’t get it.”
“Are you demented?”
“A little.” He leaned back, smirking. “The deal is on the table. A jacket for one night.”
“One night doing what?” she asked.
“That is up to me.” He let her go. Jett and Buck stepped away.
Draven stared down her body and back up again. “Those clothes are not you.”
The jeans she’d been forced to wear were too tight, and the shirt enhanced her tits. She hated the clothes, preferring the sizes that were too big for her.
Ignoring him, she folded her arms across her chest.
“Why me?” she asked. “You can have anyone you want. A lot of girls would love to play this game with you. Why me?”
“Why not you? It’s the last year of high school, Harper. It’s time to live a little and have some fun.”
He walked away.
She watched him go.
This wasn’t living and having fun.
She left his locker, because there was no way she could fix the dent, and now that all the anger that had left her, she was shaking. Heading outside to the football field, she sat on the top bleachers, looking out across the field.
She pulled out her peanut butter sandwich that had seen better days. It was all squished from being pressed up against the locker.
Was this what people felt like after experiencing a death of a parent?
She felt reckless, stupid.
But in need of someone who’d fight back.
Her father didn’t want to know or talk about her mother. He only wanted to talk about Hannah and get up in his new, pretty wife.
She hated Hannah and hated the way she was living just because she couldn’t leave home.
Once she finished her sandwich, she went through the rest of her classes, ignoring all the ones that Draven was in.
She didn’t need to watch him or see him to know he kept looking at her. Some of the girls were giving her dirty looks, and that was fine. It wasn’t like she’d ever been popular before.
Now though, he’d made her the enemy because he liked to steal things from her. She couldn’t help but smile thinking about him wearing her very feminine jacket.
By the end of the day, she still didn’t want to go home, and she had the best excuse ever, work.
She’d been going to the diner for the past week. She liked the work. Taking meal orders, serving them, pouring coffee, filling salt and pepper, all of it was so enjoyable, and for a short time each night she got the chance to forget how much she hated life and all that it entailed.
Instead, she worked. It soothed her soul. When she arrived at the diner today, it was busy. Men and women, families, friends, loved ones, they all frequented the diner, all loving the food that was presented to them. There were burgers, fried chicken, pasta, and so many other dishes that made it a rather popular joint.
As she got near the end of her shift, she walked out of the kitchen and froze.
In the back booth sat Draven. They were in her section. Why couldn’t they leave her alone? Was it worth quitting so she didn’t have to serve them?
Why can’t I catch a break?
She’d never been one to back down, and so, back straight, she walked right over to them, her little notepad in her hand, and pen at the ready.