Chapter Eight
Tyler
I pull into the school parking lot and step out of my ride when a car almost takes me out as it whips into the spot next to mine. I glare at the driver, and then shake my head. Of course, it would be her. Princess Layla can’t drive for shit.
“You almost ran me over.”
She looks me up and down then shrugs. “You look fine to me.”
God. I’ve never hit a girl in my life and never will, but she’s really pushing it. “What the hell is your problem?”
Rachel steps between us and then smiles at me. “Tyler, be a dear and walk me inside.”
I untangle myself from her grip and head into the school. There is no way in hell I’m going to be seen strolling up to the front door with Rachel Little on my arm. Especially since Austin hooked up with her the other night. That’s a pot I’m not about to stir.
As I head to my locker, I can’t help but notice the odd stares. I pass by a group of sophomores on the cheer squad. “I guess he gave her something down there so she dumped him,” one of them says.
“No. I heard she was cheating on him with the Blackhawk’s new quarterback and they both dumped her,” the other girl says.
“You’re both wrong. I heard Adam asked her for a three-way, and she blew up.”
I glance back and notice Layla following me with her eyes glued to the floor. Rachel keeps glaring at the different sets of people they walk past. I turn back around. Whatever is going on is none of my damn … “Hey man! Did you hear?” Mark says as I stop at my locker.
“Um … that Ridgeville’s right guard is out for the whole year? Yep.”
“What? No. Really?”
“It was in the paper.”
“Shut the hell up. You read the paper?”
I glare at him. “Only the Sports section.” What’s wrong with reading the paper anyway?
Mark looks puzzled for a second. Then he shakes his head right as Jared pops open the locker on the other side of me. “Hey. Did you guys hear that Layla kicked Adam in the nuts yesterday? That’s what Rachel told Austin. And check this shit out.” Mark pulls up Instagram on his cell and there is a whole shit ton of dirty pics of some masked chick on Adam’s page with a caption: gettin’ down with this hottie tonight.
I can’t really tell who the masked chick is, but I think it’s low to post private pics of your girl on any form of social media.
Some random sophomore yells to Layla, “Nice boobs!”
Layla flushes and screams, “It’s not me, you stupid pervert!”
“Whoa.” Mark says. “He was nailing some other chick. No wonder why she nailed him in the coconuts.”
“Dude, come on,” I say with a cringe. Getting a shot to the balls is painful to think about, let alone talk about. Although between the social accounts, and Austin’s big mouth who loves to spread drama it doesn’t surprise me the school is buzzing about Layla and Adam’s break-up.
Mark throws an elbow into my ribs. “Oh shit. Look, look.”
I turn and watch as Adam approaches Layla in the hall. He tries grabbing her hands but she backs up and slaps him right across the face. They’re about five yards away from us but the sound of her hand hitting his jaw echoed loud enough to make me flinch.
I don’t condone cheating, but I feel bad for Adam’s jaw right now. Please do not mistake this for sympathy for Princess Layla. I don’t give a crap about her. If you think I’m an asshole for saying this, you don’t know Layla Valentine like I do. From day one, that girl has found ways to treat me like scum. She told people to call me “Dick-son” because some people named Richard like to use the nickname “Dick”. Whatever. My last name is Richardson end of story. She farted in class and it smelled rancid. I know it was her, she sat in front of me in third grade. It was loud and the smell hit me instantly. That little brat shouted, “Tyler that’s gross.” Everyone thought it was me. Anytime Adam would attend one of my parties she would come get him seconds later. She loathes me for no freaking reason, so I don’t care for her back.
My thoughts halt when Jared growls next to me as Mark says, “Hey, Juliet. Do you mind if I walk you to class?”
She agrees and they walk off together. I glance over at Jared, who slams a fist into his locker. “Dude. Calm down,” I whisper.
“He’s just going to mess with her. He doesn’t even know her,” Jared snaps.
“Neither do you, man. You never even talk to her,” I say.
“I know her.”
I shake my head. “Really? What’s her favorite color then?”
“Red.”
“Yeah? Okay, we’ll see.” I spot her friend Adaline. “Hey Addy.”
“What are you doing?” Jared warns.
“Relax.” I run up to Addy. She gives me a “go burn in hell” glare. “Hey, quick question. Is Juliet’s favorite color red?”
“What?” she asks as her hands ball up at her sides.
I smile at her. “Jared and Mark were having an argument about it. Jared said red. Mark said it was pink,” I lie.
She curls her upper lip. “You guys are pathetic. Tell Mark to leave Juliet alone.”
“Okay. But which one was right?”
“Jared.” She continues to stalk down the hall right as Jared glares at me.
“What did you do that for?”
I shrug. “I wanted to see if you were full of shit or pissed off for a reason.”
“And what is your conclusion?”
I smack his chest with my hand. “You should be pissed at yourself for not growing a pair and asking her out.”
Jared starts to grumble some shit about timing not being right as Austin grips my left shoulder. “Did you hear?”
I roll my eyes. “What you told Mark yesterday. Yes. Pretty sure the whole school knows. Kudos. You really should think about becoming a news reporter.”
Austin laughs. “I’d probably be excellent at that. But that’s not what was I going to say. Rachel and I are hooking up again this weekend.”
“You do realize she’s been with almost the entire football team?” Jared points out.
Austin shrugs like it makes no difference. I personally don’t want to be with someone most of my teammates have done things with. I don’t want to think about getting someone’s sloppy thirds, or in her case, thirtieths.
Layla shoulders into me as we start to move closer to the whole Adam-and-Layla scene. I glare at her and snap, “’Excuse me,’ is what you’re supposed to say.”
She glances up at me with red-rimmed eyes and flips me off. And this is why I call her Princess Layla. She expects everyone in school to bow down and kiss her feet. Well, I kiss absolutely no one’s freaking feet. My dad owns the most powerful law firm in the country. My mom runs a bunch of charities. My uncle is mayor of our town. My sister is a bestselling author. My brother-in law owns a huge construction company in the Capes.
She’s not better than me. Not at all. Big whoop, her mom owns a dating service. Maybe she should run some etiquette classes and enroll her daughter in them.
Restraining myself and the rest of the remarks I want to unleash on her, I turn away and continue down the hall. Austin, being the dipshit he is, says, “Hey Adam. Rough day?” Then he starts chuckling.
Jared and I exchange looks. “Dude, why do you always have to start?” Jared asks.
Austin smirks. “Because, he’s a prick and he knows it.”
“Yeah. But now he’s going to be a shithead at practice today,” I state the obvious.
Austin is my boy and all, but he really doesn’t think. He shrugs like it’s no big deal, but that punk doesn’t have to deal with Adam in the huddle.
As we’re about to break away for our classes Jared mutters, “Screw me.” I glance over at him then down the hall at the large man coming toward us like a freight train.
Austin gives our coach, AKA Jared’s dad, a nod. “’Sup, Coach?”
“You three, in my office. Now. Where are Whalen and Kent?”
I glance back at Adam looking like a deer caught in headlights. “Kent is back there and Mark is probably in class,” I say.
“Can’t this wait, Dad?” Jared mumbles.
“No. Now. I’ll call Whalen into my office.” He marches past us and heads toward Adam. He says something to him then veers off to the main office.
I raise a brow at Jared. “What the heck was that about?”
He groans. “There are going to be big scouts at our games. He wants to make an impression now so they come back and try recruiting us next year.”
“Dude, I’m not interested in playing college ball,” Austin says. “My meal ticket is basketball. So why do I have to go?”
Jared shrugs.
Austin darts ahead of us. I glance over at Jared. He seems to slow his pace. I feel sorry for him. Jare is cool, smarter than all of us combined, and extremely talented on the football field. But my boy literally has no life. He probably won’t admit it but that’s probably one of the reasons he doesn’t ask Juliet out. He’s probably scared as shit his dad will blow gasket or something.
We slip into Coach’s office and all try cramming onto the faux leather couch. Adam strolls into the room. One side of his face has the makings of an angry handprint. “Dude, so what’s the real story with you and Layla?” Austin asks.
Adam gives him a fake laugh then says, “Mind your business.”
“I kind of can’t. You just got bitch slapped in the hall by one of the hottest, most popular cheerleaders in school. Who also happens to be your girlfriend. Wait, I mean ex-girlfriend. Seriously man, what did you do? Cause’ there’s a lot of rumors flying and one of her friends said you were messing around on her. So what story is true? Did you knock her up?”
Adam grits his teeth and holds white-knuckled fists at his sides. “Shut the hell up, Reed!”
Austin stands up and takes a step toward Adam. I throw myself between them before a fight breaks out. “Sit down,” I snap at Austin, and shove him.
“I did something stupid,” Adam admits.
“Aw shit. You got her knocked up?” Austin chimes.
“No, dickwad! I was seeing someone behind her back.”
Austin shakes his head and takes a seat. “You didn’t just do something stupid; you are stupid.”
“F you!” Adam yells as the office door flies open. Jared’s dad steps in with Mark trailing behind him.
Coach looks at us then takes a seat at his desk. “I called you all in here to discuss something important.”