Wild Girl (Aston Creek High 3)

Damian growls low in his throat. “Fuck, it’s been way too long since I got laid.”

After what feels like forever, we finally reach the gymnasium and I’m not surprised to find it packed. I’m also not surprised to find that the second I step through the doors, every eye falls on me.

Silence.

“Fuck,” Damian grumbles beside me as gasps and shocked murmurs begin to echo around the room.

“What is she doing here? Didn’t she get shot?”

“Fuck, it’s Skylah. I thought she was dead.”

“I knew she was faking it.”

“Damn, that bitch is back.”

That last one has my eyes shooting across the room. There’s no secret who that came from. After all, the rest of the comments were whispered while that one was spoken loud and proud by the queen cheerleader who must be looking for an ass-kicking. If only I could give it to her.

I suck up the pain and start making my way through the crowd, cringing with every bumped shoulder, bag, and elbow that unintentionally comes my way.

Damian is quick to make a ridiculous barricade around me and shuffles me to the sidelines where I’m seated front and center, making it possible to avoid walking up the stairs and facing the crowds front on.

I give him a warm smile. “Thank you.”

“It’s the least I could do before my inevitable death in about three seconds.”

“Just don’t tell him I’m here. Go to the locker room and get ready as usual, then let him find me when he comes out. That way, there’s not a damn thing he can do about it and he’ll have to wait till after the game to kill you, which by then, he’ll be too focused on getting me home to even remember you exist.”

“I see you’ve thought this through.”

I grin up at the douche canoe. “I never go in unprepared.”

Damian laughs and pulls a condom out of his pocket. “Hey, I live by the same motto, baby.”

With that, he winks and takes off at a jog, slipping through the side door that the boys will be coming out of in the next twenty minutes. My attention falls to my phone and I start scrolling through my Facebook while I wait.

“Oh, girl, do not tell me I’m actually seeing you right now.”

A guilty smirk cuts across my face as I look up at Nessa. “You’re not seeing me right now. You’re going insane and the first thing you’re losing is your mind. This is all a part of your imagination.”

“You’re an idiot,” she says, dropping down beside me. “He’s going to kill you, you know?”

“Oh, I know,” I laugh. “But it’ll be worth it just to be able to say that I was here to support him while he played.”

Nessa gags. “You two make me sick.”

“You’re welcome.”

She shakes her head and rakes her eyes over my body. “How are you feeling? You don’t look like complete trash anymore.”

“You know, it’s always so nice spending time with you.”

“Would you prefer some bitch who’s going to crawl up your ass and tell you how special, beautiful and amazing you are all the damn time? No. That’s what Slade’s for. I never claimed to be a fake friend and I won’t be starting now.”

“Really?” I sulk. “Can’t you just be fake for a little while?”

Nessa’s eyes go big as she tilts her head down and bats her lashes. She looks up at me through those ridiculous lashes. “OMG, Skylah,” she says in a high-pitched, squeaky tone. “You look so rad, like totally hot, this grungy, haven’t had a shower look is really working for you.”

“Okay,” I laugh. “I take it back. You can’t pull off the fake friend bullshit.”

“Thank you,” she sighs in relief. “I was two seconds away from demanding you call me Nessi.”

“Ugh. No. I can’t do that.”

“Good, now shut up about bullshit fake friends and tell me how your goddamn leg is doing. Tell me you hitched a fucking ride or some shit like that because I’m going to be pissed if I find out that you walked your bitch ass here?”

“Jesus, chill out, Medusa. Damian snuck me out and practically carried me in here. I looked like an incompetent idiot.”

“You are an incompetent idiot. Did you happen to forget that you got shot and legit drowned? You should have stayed in bed and I would have video chatted with you during the game if you really wanted to watch it.”

“It’s not the same.”

“Why? Because you like getting splattered with droplets of sweat every time the guys run past or because that fresh BO smell gets you hot?”

“You know it does,” I grin. “Look, I’m fine okay. I’m going to sit right here, minding my own business and cheer with my ass on the seat. It’s going to be fine and then Slade will get me home.”

Nessa lets out a heavy groan and leans back into her seat. “Fine, but you never answered my question. How are you feeling? Is it getting better?”