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Dirt Bag (Prick Magnet Book 1) by Nadia Wild (4)


CHAPTER ONE

 

I’m just an average pain in the ass eighteen-year-old girl. There’s nothing special about me except for the fact that I’m a virgin. Well, that and my brains is about all I have going for me. Many look at me and assume that by appearance I’m just a dirt bag teenager. I’ve got dark hair, tattoos, some of which I’m not too proud of since they were done in a basement by a friend of a friend of a friend’s friend when I wasn’t even legal age to get inked yet. My tongue is pierced and so are my nipples, but I suppose that’s not something many people would know when first meeting me.

Attending Fort Crook Community College was not a part of my bigger plan, but unfortunately, during my senior year of high school my father fell ill with stage four lymphoma.

So, here I am loading all of my overpriced textbooks into my forest green backpack. I pull my bag off of my old rickety bed and look around my room one more time before finally making my way out the door and shutting it softly behind me.

“Hey, Dad,” I whisper as I open the door to his room. Goosebumps trail my arms as soon as I hear the beeps of the machines and see him lying damn near lifeless in his bed. It never gets easier seeing him like this, even though I know what to expect. I remember my dad as a strong, hardworking man, with a very dry sense of humor, but a sense of humor nonetheless. I look down at my classic black Converse and realize I’m frozen in place at his doorway. I take a deep breath and force my feet forward to his bedside. Placing my petite hand on his long frail one. His skin almost translucent.

“Dad,” I say again, this time a little louder. I know it’s rude to wake him since he needs the rest, but he would be disappointed if he didn’t see me on my first day of college.

“Hi, Sof.” He slightly raises his hand under mine, creeping it up onto mine, and with a gentle squeeze he smiles and whispers, “You look beautiful, Sof.” His voice cracks and he lifts his hand to wipe a single tear that is falling from his deep brown eyes.

“Thanks, Dad. I love you. I will see you after class, okay?” I lean down, embracing his cheeks in my palms, and then I place a soft kiss onto his chilly forehead. “I love you, Dad.” A knot forms in my throat and that’s my cue to leave.

Big girls don’t cry.

I recite those words to myself as my dad had always told me that whenever I’d begin to cry. My dad raised me to be tough as nails, even if deep down I was as soft as a feather.

Big girls don’t cry.

***

I adjust my black-rimmed glasses and stare at the midsize community college before me. Well, here goes nothing… I step forward and shuffle slowly to the entrance, scanning all the beautiful girls as they sway their hips in front of the guys as if they’re all female dogs in heat. Their clothes are tight, hugging their curves in all the right places. I look down at myself, skinny ripped jeans, a baggy local band t-shirt, and black Converse. I instantly feel the burn begin to creep into my cheeks. I look like a fucking loser… After finally reaching my first class, I walk in and grab a seat to the back praying this will keep all eyes and attention off of me.

Sinking into my chair, I pull out my red notebook and textbook to prepare for class. Out of the corner of my eye, I notice a guy sit down in the desk next to me. I can feel his gaze on the bare pieces of my skin, which only happens to be my arms and face, and the holes in my jeans. I don’t want to look at him, but he’s not breaking his stare.

“Excuse me, Sofie?” The familiar deep voice echoes through my eardrums. Fuck my life. It’s Bradley Harris, the biggest douche bag I ever went to school with. We were friends in elementary school until about fifth grade and then he turned into a grade A asshole, and that’s putting it very nicely.

“What?” I ask with a tinge of irritation in my voice.

“How’ve you been? Have a good summer?” Is this prick really trying to make small talk with me? Me? Of all people, me? You’ve got to be kidding me!

“Well, Brad. My father is dying, and I’m stuck going to school here when I had a full ride scholarship to attend the University of Houston. It’s been a grand fucking summer and I’ve been just peachy. Thanks for asking!” I feel my cheeks flush and I turn away from Brad’s wide eyes to my textbook, my hands shaking. I can’t help but feel a little empowered, making it clear that I’m not going to put up with Brad’s fake bullshit this year or ever again for that matter.

***

“Arabella McCoy, you’ll be partnered with Sofie Daniels for your first sports media project.” Professor Aldrich looks between Arabella and me, and then checks our names off of a list on his clipboard.  Great. I’m being stuck with Barbie. Arabella glances at me, her bright blue eyes beaming beneath the fluorescent classroom lights. As much as I’m sure I won’t be able to stand her, I can’t deny the fact that she’s absolutely stunning and I’d give anything to be half as gorgeous as her.

For the rest of class we played stupid icebreaker games and I learned that Arabella’s favorite TV show is Orange Is The New Black so she obviously isn’t that bad of a human. As soon as class is out I grab my things and shove them into my backpack.

“Hey, Sofie! Wait up!” I hear a peppy holler and know right away it’s Arabella.

“Hey, Arabella.” I say as I move a strand of my dark hair behind my ear.

“Just call me Bella. Anyway, come over to my house tonight so we can knock this project out as soon as possible. I have to keep my grades up to be on the cheer squad here, and I don’t take procrastination very lightly.” My eyes widen as her request surprises the shit out of me. Before me stands a cheerleader that cares more about A’s than she does the D.