Striker: A Dark Bully Romance (Redwood Rebels Book 1) by Rachel Leigh (best historical fiction books of all time .txt) 📗

joking?” I shake my head. “No, babe. I’m staying here. All fucking day.” I walk up the stairs and turn around. “Come on, I don’t like being tardy.” That’s a lie. In fact, I can’t think of a day that I was ever really on time for class. Not on purpose, I’m just a slacker and naturally walk slow.

Nothing has changed inside the walls of this place. You still have your jocks, your stuck-up bitches, the stoners, the geeks, and the inbetweeners who still don’t know where they belong. You know the ones—we’ve been around for eighteen years and still have no idea who we are, where we fit, or where we’re going.

Following behind Marni, I catch all the deplorable looks from my former classmates. They're probably wondering what a catch like Marni is doing with a guy like me. They have no clue that my presence in her life is not wanted in the least.

“I’m not sure how you pulled this off, but just so you know, you’re not sitting by me in class if that’s what you’re thinking. In fact, the only available seat is in the back of the room next to Allergic Alan.” The corner of her lip tugs up with the thought.

“Don’t you worry about me.”

We make a quick stop at her locker then head to her first class. Her arms are loaded with a textbook, a Chromebook, a notebook, and a folder. Grabbing them from her hands, in an attempt to carry some of the weight, she retorts, “Don’t touch my stuff.”

“Dry your panties, girl. I’m just trying to help.” I grab at them again and somehow, we engage in a tug of war contest as we walk down the halls, warranting more looks and snickers from the onlookers.

“If I wanted your help, I’d ask. Now give me my damn stuff,” she hisses as I hold tightly to them and pick up speed, booking it to her first class of the day.

Just when she catches up, I slide into the half-open door. Everyone is in their seats and all eyes are on us.

“Mr. Porter. It’s good to see you.” Mrs. Tate, the astronomy teacher, lies to my face. She fucking hates me. I may have flipped up her skirt because of a bet, just to see what kind of panties she wore. Some might call it sexual harassment; I looked at it as a way to win a bet.

Solid white hip huggers. Also known as granny panties.

“I’m sharing material with my good friend, Marni. So, if you wouldn’t mind, we’ll need to sit next to each other.” My comment warrants me a massive growl and a double eye-roll from Marni.

Mrs. Tate’s eyes question Marni’s safety, and quite possibly her sanity.

“Tell her, babe.” I give Marni a nudge and bite back a smile. I love getting under her skin, and right now, I’m sure as hell doing just that. The entire class is watching while she nods her head nervously in agreement. “It’s settled then.” I smile at Mrs. Tate.

Marni heads to her seat and I follow. When she sits down, I narrow my eyes on the douchebag with highlights in his hair who is sitting next to her. “Get up,” I demand.

He looks from me, to Marni, and then to Mrs. Tate, who is standing at the front of the class tapping the toe of her shoe to the floor. “James, could you please sit in the back with Alan. Talon will be sitting in with us for the next couple of days.”

Alan begins a sneezing fit in the back row, and James huffs, “Seriously?”

“‘Fraid so.” I smirk as I begin stacking his belongings up. When he stands up, I shove them into his chest. “Thanks, bro.” Marni drops her face in her hands to hide her blush-colored cheeks. I lean over and whisper in her ear, “You’re cute when you’re mad.”

She grabs a piece of paper and snatches the pencil from behind my ear and scribbles out in all caps letters, FUCK YOU.

I grab the pencil from her and return the gesture. LATER.

She fights not to smile, but I feel it.

18

Somehow I managed to make it through the school week with Talon breathing down my neck—literally. All except for first period, he sat behind me. In the lunch line, he stood behind me. And today, while we stood there in line waiting for our turn, he placed his hand on my waist as he talked to Tommy and his crew. I’m not even sure if he realized he did it. I’m not sure how he didn’t though, with the way my body trembled at his touch. All the blood inside of me rushed to that one spot, and I’d swear there was a heartbeat beneath his fingertips.

The rumor mill has been in overdrive this week. Most assume that Talon and I are an item. Neither of us has validated nor denied those claims, particularly because it’s better to let them believe the rumors than the truth.

It’s been a struggle not to lay it all out there for Talon. The fact that I know someone recorded me, Zed coming in my room and touching me—me letting him touch me. If I wanted Zed dead, this would be my golden opportunity. Yet, I’ve kept my mouth shut. Though, my heart still feels the sting of it all.

My hand hovers over Axel’s name while I stand outside. My eyes shooting in every direction to be sure that no one is about to pop out, shout, or attack. I’ve gone back and forth for days on whether or not I should call Axel. I know he’d be here in a heartbeat if he knew that I was in trouble. He’d help me make an escape from the hold that these four guys have on me.

The sad part is, there is one that I’m not sure I want to run too far from. There is this magnetic pull between Talon and I and every time