Total pages in book: 11
Estimated words: 9924 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 50(@200wpm)___ 40(@250wpm)___ 33(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 9924 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 50(@200wpm)___ 40(@250wpm)___ 33(@300wpm)
She actually has fair skin, but she spends a fortune to tan it, so whenever she’s angry or frustrated—usually with me, because the others are too scared of her to speak out—she looks like a volcano at the point of eruption.
The best way to kill bitches? With kindness.
Honestly, I may have never let anyone walk all over me before, but it’s these people and their constant bullying that’s made me a bitch just like them.
Wait. Does this mean I’m one of them now?
God, no. This is only temporary until I graduate. Then I’ll live in a basement and beg magazines to publish my sketches.
I only have to survive this last year and then I can chalk up the cheer squad and everyone in it to life experience.
My gaze roams around the endless haters’ faces until I find Lucy’s soft one. She grins at me discreetly, then instantly hides it, but it’s enough to paint what resembles a smile on my lips.
She’s shorter and thinner than me, but she has fiery red hair and adorable freckles that dust her cheeks. Lucy is the only one I’d call a friend in the midst of these shark-infested waters. Mainly because she doesn’t belong to Reina’s clique and is kind of a reject like me.
We’ve found company in our misery ever since we first met as high school seniors, and it’s continued in college. Which isn’t a surprise since almost everyone present studied with me in high school. Another prestigious private institution in Blackwood.
Mom and I relocated here during my senior year, and let’s just say that immediately categorized me as an outcast. Hence Mom’s idea about my being part of the popular crowd by becoming a cheerleader.
Reina starts giving instructions and Lucy’s attention goes to her, and in response, mine does, too, even reluctantly. Our coach, a middle-aged woman with long black hair and thin lips, barely says anything when her favorite captain talks.
I’m bored out of my mind, thinking about what food to grab later and if I should endure the witch hunt and the fat-shaming if I eat a slice of pizza in front of the squad.
Reina grabs me by the shoulders and hisses, “Focus or dream on about the headphones,” before she tells me my position will be on the second line, the one right above the male cheerleaders and, therefore, I’ll be carrying her and many of the others.
Yay.
Thankfully, I don’t make many mistakes, except for nearly dropping Brianna on her face, but, oh well, accidents do happen.
At least I’m not distracted by the half-naked football players carrying whatever their coach gave them and running around the field.
I mean, yes, I want to watch male perfection, but I’d rather do it in secret behind my computer screen and not in an ogling, bring-attention-to-me kind of way, like the other cheerleaders.
If I do, it’ll seem as if I’m interested in the football players, yet all I care about is the glistening of sweat on their abs that travels to other…places.
But I have this perfect poker face that no one is able to read behind. Lucy calls me unfeeling sometimes, but it’s not that I don’t feel. It’s that I have immaculate control over showing my emotions.
I take after my mom, thank you very much.
So even when a whirlwind of emotions swirls inside me, no one can figure anything out by observing the outside.
Not even the one person I actually notice on the football team.
The one with sandy hair and sharp features and hard, glistening abs that could very well be used as a weapon.
The one who doesn’t know half the campus exists, while everyone is taught his name the moment they step into Blackwood.
But that one? Yeah, I’m glad he knows nothing of my intentions, because I will get over him.
It’s just a crush…if a crush can go on for this long.
No. I’m sure it’s only a crush and only physical, because everything else is a big no.
At the end of the routine, I’m ready to go have my pizza and give the cheerleaders the middle finger if they say anything about my hips again.
As usual, all of them—Lucy included—kiss Reina’s ass about how perfect the routine is and what a queen she is. Everyone except me, of course. What? She can handle some silent criticism.
Then everyone starts to leave, except her holy circle of vicious mini-mes. Brianna, no surprise there. Prescott, the male co-captain, and a few other cheerleaders who’ve managed to get Queen Bee’s seal of approval.
This close circle is basically all about Reina’s cult activities aka the secret dares that she makes them do because she’s bored in her expensive mansion, and tormenting other people is apparently fun.
I’m about to pull Lucy away so we can go home and binge watch the latest true crime show on Netflix when Reina calls to her.