Uppercut Princess (The Heights Crew #1)(11)

“What are you—? Oh,” the girl says. Her displeasure makes me think she’s spotted me.

“Hey, Nevaeh,” douchebag says. His voice is low, flirty. It’s like he can’t even see she has a lady boner for Oscar. Or maybe she just has a lady boner for anyone who has power in this school. “I was just asking Drego if he still gives new girl two days.”

“Well?” Nevaeh asks like I’m not standing right there. I hurry, throwing shit in my locker, locking it up, and then starting to walk away, but douchebag gets in my way.

“We’re talking about you,” he says, eyes glistening. “Don’t move.”

I tentatively look toward Oscar. He’s assessing me. Not in a humiliating way. He’s not undressing me with his eyes he’s just watching, waiting. It’s like he’s content to sit back and see how this plays out.

“Actually, she needs to get the hell out of our way,” Nevaeh says. “She looks like shit warmed over.” Her sneer at my oversized shirt tells me exactly what she thinks about my choice of clothes. She’s wearing a short, black skirt, a body conforming white tank and a gold necklace dipping into her cleavage, so it’s easy to see why she thinks my clothing choices leave everything to be desired. “Oscar doesn’t need to look at this fugly chick.”

Oscar licks his lips. He leans away from Nevaeh like she suddenly smells bad. “Jealousy looks like shit on you,” he says, his voice even and sure.

Nevaeh’s jaw drops. She pulls out of his grip, wobbling a little in her tall heels. “What’s that supposed to mean? She may as well be wearing a paper bag.”

“This isn’t about her,” Oscar says, turning his full attention toward Nevaeh. “This is about you trying to claim me when I know who you’ve been spending time with.”

There’s something in Oscar’s eyes. It’s not just anger. He looks pained. A pain he seems to hate himself for feeling.

Nevaeh has the sense to look demure. She’s definitely not dumb. She’s smart. She knows who she needs to suck up to in order to survive this place. But I don’t just want to survive. “It was a mistake.”

Oscar laughs, loudly. “Once is a mistake. Twice could be an accident. But ten times? That’s with intent.”

I want to roll my eyes at his assessment of cheating, if that’s what this even is. He probably just wants her to hang off him and only him. To be there when he deems it necessary to show her affection. I can’t help but feel bad for her. In places like the Heights, the girls have to be as bad as the guys or they have to be someone’s someone. The one person they’ll crawl through fire for. The girl they’ll take a bullet for.

Nevaeh’s definitely not it for Oscar. She’s better off trying with douchebag here and then hope he actually makes it into the Crew.

A hand smacks me in the chest. “What are you looking at, Skank?”

I fly back into my locker. I take a moment to breathe before glancing at Nevaeh. Her red-rimmed eyes are glassy. It’s obvious she’s taken what Oscar said hard, and now she’s taking it out on me.

I shrug, then try to move around them, catching Oscar’s eye as I do. He’s looking on with interest—and possibly a smirk—as Nevaeh uses me as a play to get him back.

“Don’t you dare look at him. You should be kissing his fucking feet.”

Her hand slams down on my shoulder and pushes. She succeeds in making me stumble, but it doesn’t take me to my knees like she wants. I try to shrug her off. “I’m just trying to get to class,” I say, even though I’m twitching to retaliate.

“You can go to class as soon as you kiss Oscar’s shoes,” Nevaeh says loudly enough for everyone to hear.

The douchebag laughs like he’s never had this much fun before first period. I’d wish for the bell to ring, but I don’t think any of these guys give a shit whether they show up to class at all, let alone care if they make it on time.

Nevaeh tries to force me down again, this time buckling my knees for a second. I pop right back up, turning toward her. I draw the line at kissing fucking feet. I won’t be humiliated like that. Oscar reaches out for me, and everyone pauses. The laughter slows and then dies. Nevaeh stares open-mouthed at his gesture. He takes my arm, sliding his around mine.

Nevaeh gasps behind us. “Oscar…”

“Who knows,” Oscar says. “Maybe Princess knows how to treat a man.”

We walk around the corner, leaving the scene behind us. As soon as we’re out of sight, Oscar immediately lets me go. He walks off like he didn’t just make me enemy number one in Nevaeh’s eyes, but that wasn’t what his goal was. He was doing this for him. He was showing her he doesn’t give a fuck. That he can move on to the next girl because she means nothing to him. But I suspect the opposite is true. I suspect he actually really, really cares that he was runner up to someone else.

Who doesn’t? We all want to be number one. A long time ago, I was.

I grip the side of the locker and stare after Oscar. Cement hardens my veins, strengthening my purpose. I want revenge on the person who took the people who thought I was number one away from me. He deserves it.





5





You know that feeling when people keep looking at you and you’re afraid they know something you don’t? I get that for the entire day. In class, the other students blatantly watch me, most of them snickering, some just with looks of disinterest.