God was right about the chicks seeing gold where I saw copper. I don’t know why they fuck with me, but they can’t get enough. It doesn’t matter whether I even remember their names the next day.
I’ve always been a party boy.
Captain of the football team, wealthy, and according to my English teacher, “stupidly good looking.”
That’s what she panted as she pawed at me while I fucked her on her desk the last day of summer school.
She’d been begging for it since she saw me changing in the corridor one time.
Her subtle looks and excuses keeping me behind after class made it obvious she wanted a taste, so I gave it to her, and she gave me the grade I needed.
Everyone wanted a taste, and I’d always been keen to give it to them—until recently. I’d lost my urges since my brother’s death. Sexual gratification reminded me too much of why I was late that night, and as much as I play the part of being the lust-filled pussy-chaser, there’s a crater size hole in my chest threatening to consume me at any given moment.
God got me through each day still breathing. He has his own issues, and together, we’re a lethal fucking mix of chaos and sin.
“You wearing that?” God smirks when I leave the bathroom fully dressed in suit pants, a shirt, and tie, my dark hair contained with hair wax, giving me a professional look instead of the just-dried-straight-from-the-shower look I usually rock.
“Getting into The Elite is my only way out from under my dad’s money and fucking guardianship. I need them to help me get the man who killed my brother. I need to look the part,” I remind him.
“Dude, looking like some preppy geek won’t get you into The Elite. You’ve already laid the groundwork, you need me to talk to my dad?”
“No, it’s cool”
It was my dad that was the problem.
My brush with the law after burning down the post office nearly tarnished our family name in the eyes of my dad, now he was being a dick.
What he didn’t know was that my brush with the law was all part of me laying the ground work to be chosen for the Elite.
Dad said it was a close call and one he wasn’t taking lightly.
“It’s a miracle they’re ruling it an accident.”
But I knew better. It was no miracle; The Elite fixed the problem.
The Elite could take care of my tuition and give me the means to set myself up in my own place, sever the parental rights, and free me. And get me the information I need on the prick who killed Robbie and help me take him down. He fucking deserves more punishment than a tiny fine.
Gulping down the rest of my breakfast in the form of a giant energy drink, I tap my fingers on the steering wheel, trying to build up the balls to get out of the car.
It’s a strange sensation being out of my comfort zone, especially in a school type environment.
God was right about the outfit. Not one person here was dressed in anything other than casual clothes. I’m glad he made me bring a change of outfit.
“Wanna meet up for lunch?” I turn my attention to God, who napped the entire way here and is now scrolling through his cell phone, yawning. He’s all or nothing—either speed-balling on whatever upper he can get his hands on or dragging when he crashes.
“Nah, man. I’ve got some shit to do. We can catch up tonight.”
Frowning, I grab his cell and turn the thing off.
“Dude, what the fuck?” he grinds out, holding his hand out to me.
“You not going to class?”
He snorts and snatches his phone back.
“No one goes to class freshman week.”
Opening the car door, he slides out and salutes me.
I follow suit, calling out, “Why the fuck did you ride here then?”
Grinning, he turns to walks backwards, stating. “To support you…and I didn’t want to be left with your old man. He looks at me weird. I think he’s got a crush.”
I give him the finger, and he chuckles, jogging out the parking lot.
The slacks I’m wearing are crushing my ball sac, and the tie feels like a noose around my neck. Why the fuck did I think I could pull this shit off.
Popping the trunk, I grab my bag, then open it up pulling out my clothes.
God knows me better than I know myself half the time, I lasted a whole car ride before needing to change.
I whip my tie off, then unbutton my shirt, giving a quick look around the parking lot. There are a few bodies lurking around, but fuck it.
Tugging my pants down, I ignore a guy standing a few feet away getting out of his car. His eyes expand and give me the once over before he holds his cell phone up and snaps a photo, bold as fuck.
Like there aren’t a million pictures of me half naked on the internet.
“Supplies for your spank bank?” I wink, and he blushes before hurrying away, clearly unaware of being caught red-handed. Pervert.
After slipping a pair of black jeans up my legs, I tear off my shirt, replace it with a black tee, and throw on the trusty Tom Ford leather jacket God brought me back from a fashion show his mother was involved in last year.
I close the trunk and hitch my bag up on my shoulder.
Leaning down to see myself in the car window, I run my hands through my hair to mess it up.
This is me, I can’t pull off the preppy, put together look.
The rhythm in my chest pounds, and I take in a deep breath. I’m taking back control, yet feel like a boy starting kindergarten for the first time.
The grounds of the college expand beyond what my eyes can take in. It’s like a continuous garden covered by an abundance of grass and shrubbery.
Benches sit beneath large billowing trees standing tall and proud against the stone backdrop of the actual building.
I feel out of my depth, and that’s unsettling. I’ve always been in control, held the cards, made the rules, yet, for some fucking reason, I’m anxious as shit.
My whole high school career was to get me to this place, and now I’m here, I know I can’t ride the wave of my football fame. That ship sailed without me on board. Getting through college is going to take real work, study, focus, and less fucking around.
Taking a breath, I move farther onto the grounds, taking it all in.
White stone bricks stacked tall into the sky with round pillars like castle turrets make the place look almost mythical, and reaches dizzying heights.
Large decorative windows with arched entryways give a royal vibe. The appearance alone has me gulping. We’re not in high school anymore, that’s for sure.
Dodging a few kids rushing around like they’re late, my eyes fall on a few students handing out flyers to any and everyone including me.
“Yo, bro, download the app,” some dude says, pushing a business type card into my hand.
It’s weird being on a campus where no one really knows me and treats me like everyone else.
Girls’ stares still linger on me, but unlike high school, there isn’t a crowd forming around my car to greet me purely based on my mere fucking arrival.
People acknowledge me with a head tilt, but that’s it.
I wasn’t king of the school anymore.
Nope. No one gives a fuck.
I’m just another rich kid who paid his way in, and that thought unsettled me.
My plans of coming here and being a sure bet for The Elite begin to fade from my view. The mere size of campus alone is daunting.
Whispering doubt siphons into my conscience from my own fear of failure. My mother’s words fire into my brain like a machine gun.
“You owe it to him.”
The air around me thickens, and the darkness begins creeping into my marrow, taunting me with the ghosts that haunt me.
I would do whatever it takes to become an Elite, but the actual possibility of not getting in has only just dawned on me. The things that matter most to me are the things I have no control over now.
A cold-sweat breaks over my skin, and my chest begins to pound, roaring in my own ears.
There are people rushing past me, their lives put together, their paths laid out and set, and here I am, a fucking mess.
The grounds appear to expand in size before me showing me just how little I matter.
My father’s words echo in my thoughts.
“I give him six months before he fucks up and gets kicked out. He’s a jock, Caroline, not college potential.”
Unlike every other father in history, mine hated that I played football. He didn’t want me wasting my brains by getting them knocked out of me on a field. It embarrassed him that I was into sports and not the family businesses.
“Football is for people who have no other choices.” He used to scoff at me as he spent my mother’s money and worked for a firm her father created and passed down to her.
Just as my lungs begin squeezing the life from them, a soft thud hits my back, and a female topples to the concrete beside me.
Paper rains down around her like confetti, and an “oomph” sounds from her lungs as a book lands on top of her chest with a thump.
Pride and Prejudice.
Jane Eyre.
“Christ,” she squeaks out, looking up at me with wide, clear eyes, a perfectly formed O on her full, thick lips.
“I’m so sorry,” she quickly says, rubbing her palms together before removing the book and picking up the paper, shoving it inside the pages.
Dropping to my haunches, I help collect her papers, my eyes roaming briefly over one.
It’s a flyer for a book club. Meetings on a Saturday. Who the fuck goes to book club on a Saturday?
“I honestly should look where I’m going. I’m clumsy, and was so engrossed in my book—then bang, whoosh. And now I’m sitting on the ground mumbling to the most prettiest guy I’ve ever seen.”
She laughs awkwardly, blushing a wild red and then covering her mouth to try to shove the words back inside.
I raise a brow, and her eyes expand behind red-framed glasses. “Did I say that out loud?”
A chuckle rumbles from my chest, and it’s then I realize she knocked my panic attack right out of me.
Blonde messy curls cascade down her shoulders, stopping at her tits hidden inside a blouse covered by a pink fluffy sweater. Creamy legs spill from underneath a black skirt that’s ridden up her thighs. Flat ballerina pumps finish her outfit. It’s cute, bookish, but with a hidden sultry vibe that comes from her peaches and cream skin, just enough on show to entice, but not enough to make her look slutty.