Rowdy Boy

Of course she would. They’re family after all. But who in this school would ever tell the new girl I’m the asshole? There’s only one person I can think of …

“You’re being lied to,” I reply, licking my lips in anger.

“Yeah, well, I could say the same about you,” she says, clutching her bag closely as though she’s using it as a shield to create distance, and it makes me want to rip it away. “What do you want, Cole?”

I swallow. I don’t fucking know either, and I hate that she asks because I don’t want to think about the answer.

“If you bully me, I’ll call you out,” she adds. “And you’re an asshole for stealing my shit.”

“It’s just a fucking note,” I reply.

“It was a big deal. In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m the new girl,” she hisses. “That was the first friendly conversation I had with that girl, and you stomped all over it. Why? You jealous or something?”

She’s so fucking direct, and I both love it and hate it at the same time. I don’t know why I did what I did. I wasn’t jealous. Maybe I like being the asshole because everybody loves me, and no one ever calls me out on it … until her.

“You want a phone number?” I say. What I’m doing is wrong, but I do it anyway. “Here.” I fumble in my pocket and take out a bunch of scribbled on torn pieces of papers that I’ve gotten today from several different girls. Fans. Groupies. It doesn’t even matter because they’re all the same to me. “Have at it.” And I chuck them at her.

They all fall to the floor like a cascade of confetti. None of them manages to make her move. “Go on. Plenty of girls to be your friend.”

She shakes her head with such disappointment that it stings like a motherfucking knife cutting me to pieces. And I don’t even fucking know the girl. What is wrong with me?

“You know what, never mind,” I say, and I turn around before I make an even bigger mess. “Call me whatever you want. I don’t care.”

“Clearly, you do,” she calls after me.

I glance over my shoulder, and she’s standing there, arms folded like she’s the queen of the motherfucking hallways. And it makes me want to turn around and make her regret every single word.

But I don’t.

Instead, I slam someone else’s locker closed and march off. I have a bone to pick with another girl, and it’s not going to be pretty.

I immediately make my way to the classes she attends, walking past every door to gaze inside and see if she’s there. Drama class. Of course she’d be there. Perfect opportunity to polish her skills.

“Ariane,” I growl, stepping inside.

She’s talking with one of her friends, but the moment she hears me, everyone grows quiet. They all stare at me for a few seconds, and I take in their judgmental looks with rage. She nods at them, and then they leave, all passing me with snooty looks on their faces as though they know exactly what kind of guy I really am.

They don’t know shit, and neither does she.

“You think you can turn her against me?” I growl.

She folds her arms and clears her throat. “Nice way to say hi.”

“I’m done playing nice with you,” I reply, stalking toward her. “What did you tell her about me?”

She inches away from me just a bit. Not enough to become untouchable, but enough to make a point. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

I smash my fist on the table next to me, and she jolts up and down in shock. “Don’t fucking play around with me! You talked with her, that new girl.”

“So? You’re forbidding me from talking to people now too?” She raises a brow, and it makes me want to yell.

“I never told you to do jack shit. But you just can’t stop it, can you?” I growl. “You have to insert yourself into everything.”

She puts her hands against her side. “I warned her about you, big deal.”

“You had no right.” I point at her, wishing I could rip out her heart. But she doesn’t have one.

She splutters. “Pfft …” And she rolls her eyes. “As if you can’t get any other girl in this school.”

“That’s not the fucking point, and you know it,” I reply.

“Oh, yes, it is. You want to own every girl you meet. And now you’re surprised one of them fights back?” She scoffs.

“You always make shit up,” I say, biting my tongue because I’m about to flip out. “You always do this, always get in my way.”

“Poor you. It’s just one fucking girl.”

“You’ve already turned her against me for no goddamn reason,” I say.

“Oh, I have every reason,” she replies, and she looks over her shoulder at her girlfriends who seem eager to eavesdrop.