Puck (Broken Hill Boys 1)

“Well…I, um.” Her eyes flick back over her shoulder before glancing up the other end. Brylee steps into me, grabbing my arm and pulling me in closer to where she can whisper and still be heard. “Fuck, Court. I think I slept with Tyson.”

My hand slams down on my locker, desperately searching for something to grab onto so I don’t fall to the ground and embarrass myself on day one. “What the hell do you mean you ‘think?’” I shriek, staring at her as though she’s some sort of stranger. Brylee does not screw around like that at all. She’s generally the first one to speak out about what a filthy habit it is. “You either did it or you didn’t. How can you not know?”

“I don’t know,” she whisper yells. “I hardly remember anything from that night. The last thing I remember clearly was you grabbing a bottle of Vodka and then everyone shoving it down their throats. Everything after that is fuzzy, but what I do remember is sneaking off with Tyson.”

I bite down on my lip to stop myself from laughing, but the tears spring to my eyes and I can’t help myself. “That’s fucking hilarious,” I tell her. “So, you seriously don’t know if he fucked you in the bushes or not?”

She shakes her head. “No, and it’s not like I can just go and ask him. That would be way too humiliating.”

“Oh, Bry,” I laugh, throwing my arm over her shoulder and dragging her along beside me as we make our way back over to Brooke and Tora, though if we were smart, we’d wait a while as it looks as though Josh has found our girl and is currently trying to eat her face. “Do you want me to 007 the shit out of this for you?”

Her elbow comes slamming down into my ribs. “Don’t even think about it,” she seethes, knowing me well enough to know that I’m going to be doing everything I possibly can to figure out this little mystery.

We step in with Brooke as she scrunches up her face at Josh. “Ugh, get a room,” she tells them, though it comes off as more of a ‘get lost’ to Josh, which luckily for him, he does just that.

I fall in beside Tora. “Are you sure you want to keep messing around with their quarterback? Elle looks like she could tear you a new asshole right now.”

“It’s fine,” Tora says. “Nothing is going on with me and Josh. It’s just a little innocent flirting and a bit of making out.”

“Even though he had a blonde getting acquainted with his junk on Friday night?” Brooke grunts.

“As Josh just so kindly reminded me, we’re not dating. So, technically he can have whoever the fuck he wants sucking his dick. Hell, he can even suck a few dicks if he feels inclined to do so.”

Brooke gives Tora a tight smile. “You sure?” she questions before raising her coffee to her lips.

“Yes, I’m sure. Josh is just fun, and besides, in order to be anything more to him, I’d have to run around the school with a pair of pom-poms, cheering about school spirit, and that’s just not me.”

An image of Tora attempting to fit in with those girl flashes through my mind and I find myself unable to swallow the laugh that comes bubbling up my throat. “Oh, I can just see it now,” I tell her. “You’d be the worst cheerleader.”

“Shut up,” Tora says with a laugh. “Besides, Josh would make an awful boyfriend. He’d be super high maintenance and would constantly need his ego stroked.”

“Yeah,” Brooke scoffs. “You’ll be stroking more than just his ego.”

She’s not wrong.

The bell rings throughout the school and just like that, students begin scattering. Tora and Brooke head up one way with a promise to catch up later while Brylee and I turn on our heels and head down the other end of the hallway, desperate to get to our homeroom classes before it’s too late.

Chapter 4

Puck

I lean up against the brick wall of Broken Hill High, watching through narrowed eyes as some freshman props himself against my Escalade, getting comfortable against the hood and taking a fucking selfie with my car.

What’s his fucking deal? Is he trying to claim it as his own for his lame as fuck social media account? Trying to appear as though he’s hard? I don’t know, but what I do know is that it makes me want to flatten his ass and send my fist flying into his jaw.

“Leave it, man,” Nate grumbles, noticing my clenched fist hanging by my side as he ashes his cigarette butt against the brick wall. “He’s not worth it. Just some dumbass kid.”

I know on some level that he’s right, but then, what kind of man would I be if I didn’t show the kid right from wrong on his first day of school? Who knows, maybe the fucker needs a little guidance in his life and I’ll be more than happy to volunteer.