His Lovely Delinquent *EDITING*

2. Playing Games *EDITED*

EDITED VERSION. TO BE PUBLISHED MID-2013

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Chapter Two 
Blake

 

The boys were staring at me when I changed into my sports clothes. I had gym sixth period thank god for that! All the girls were groaning as this huge coach that reminded me very much of Edna, the Head of Cafeteria at Melville Detention Center. I didn’t even catch her name—with short, curly blonde hair, a button nose and cheeks too big for her face yelled at us to ‘HURRY IT UP, CUPCAKES’.

 I ignored what she called me and fought the urge not to punch the brown haired cheerleader who kept staring at me with a face full of disgust. I mean seriously? How rude could you be? Didn’t your damned parents teach you it was rude to stare?

I felt more comfortable when I made my way out of the girl’s change rooms and out of that A&F dress. I liked it, it was pretty but it wasn’t my style; nothing that allowed guys to peer up my dress was my style and the idiots had done that exactly.

What was worst was that the shorts I was wearing—a gift from my aunt was also A&F. It was fitted like leggings and just above the mid-thigh sections of my legs. They were practically booty shorts!

We were going to play Dodge-ball, I had to hold the eye rolling for later. Just my lucky. First day and I’m already going to batter a few heads in.

“Hey cupcake.” An arrogant voice called.

I turned and plastered on the sweetest smile. I hated my sweetest smile. But if I had to play Noah’s game for him to piss the hell off then I will.

“Noah.” I called back.

He’d been stalking me all day. And it was only my first day. What sick joke was he trying to pull? A bet with his friends? At third period I finally realized who Noah was. Hollywood’s Golden Boy according to a magazine I took from the cheerleaders. I decided to ask him when he’d spoken to me again about the truth of it and he gave me the stupidest smirk.

“You don’t know any of my movies?” he asked. flirtatiously.

“I obviously have taste.” I said. This seemed to shut him up.

Whatever the case was, Noah Hunt seemed like the biggest, sexiest player I’d landed my eyes on. I couldn’t deny I found him lust-worthy but he was off limits and so was I. I could always look though.

The crappy thing about Noah was, according to the gossip I heard in the girls bathroom, was he’d called dibs on me. Unfortunately, I knew how all that worked. How guys could easily stake their claims on girls by saying the words. I scoffed internally. Let’s see them try to put their hands on me.

Though boys were off limits to me, I could look and flirt. Stupid Noah kept fending him off with the glares and the whole ‘bro. code thing’! What I didn’t understand was how and why they’d listen to him when it was only his first day! Stupid freaking actor status!

Just cause he was a tight-ass, rich hick—did he think he could stake claims on me?

I think not. No one—I repeat—no one, stakes claims on Blake Deveraux.

He smiles at me with such sincerity that if I had a beating heart—I would run up, throw my arms around his neck and kiss him hardly.  But this isn’t the case.

“Miss me since lunch?” I asked, batting my eyes at him. I’m aware of the glares being sent from the other side of the court—damned cheerleaders. They were so close to being Blake-Chow.