Playing The Bad Boy's Game (Completed July 2012) FIRST BOOK SO IT IS CRAP W A R N I N G

Chapter 2: Bitch, please

He drew a confused look and shook his head. “I told you, I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he said.”

I freed the caged groan, it sounding a lot like: “Rrraaaaaarrrrghhhhhhhhhh!”

Then Brian quietly hummed Katy Perry’s, “And you’re gonna hear her roar...”

“Why must you find such humour in this situation?! It’s not funny!”

“Because you’re saying such BS—you’re on drugs aren’t you?”

“Oh fuck me!”

“Promise?” he winked. 

“Go to hell.”

“Looks like we’re already here.”

Done, I moved past him and was about to leave until a different male voice asked, “Uh, can I have my towel now?”      

            ___________________________

“Come on ladies!  How long does it take to put on a uniform?” barked Coach Boysin.  Her beefy looking body and bulldog face equalled a hideous monster that enjoyed working sixteen year old girls to their limits.  Well, that was what people tweeted.   And honestly, for a 5’6 girl like me, I was quite the athlete that could still slam dunk, so it seemed like a breeze.

“They’re uncomfortable aren’t they?”  I spun around, facing an average height typical blonde girl.  Yeah, she had everything nailed down.  Big butt, big chest, massive curves and snuck up nose. 

“Completely,” I said giving her a chance to open the conversation.  Mind as well give her a chance since I let down all the other three offers of becoming friends. Shallow glares and ‘I’m busy’ looks really stirred away company. 

The ‘popular’ kids tried making friends with me, but I told them I had AIDS.

They walked away pretty fast. 

I wouldn’t blame them.  My aunt made me wear the most expensive clothes and some presumed I dressed like a slut.  Suffocating tight fabrics, lethal heels, and bold lipstick sealed with a withering glare.  Bitch.

As The Detention puts it: Beauty.  Intelligence.  Talent.  Charisma.  Hoobastank.

That makes me sound like a bitch so let me rephrase this. 

I was a bitch. I knew it.  But only when I wanted to be.  I mean, aren’t all girls like that though? 

Who I blame this on?  Brian.  I was still pissed.

Luckily, I was starting to simmer down and was simply becoming plain tired.

 “Like, I’m skinny but man, these are way too tight,” she said trying to stretch the dull blue shorts.

“Here.  Pass it over.”  She threw me the shorts and I broke off the elastic with my teeth.  “There,” I said handing it back.

 “Much better,” she sighed putting them back on.  “I’m Klaire by the way.”

“Riyvn,” I grinned.

Coach Boysin slammed the locker door with her fist.  We nearly jumped out of the shorts.  “Get out now, Miss Stevens!” the coach bellowed.  Klaire squealed “sorry” and ran, leaving me alone with the hairy beast.

“DeLor, I heard several good things about your athletic abilities,” she said as Klaire scurried off.  Her voice was deep as Mr. Gillian’s…scary.  I tried not to stare at her exposed hairy chest but come on, it was quite noticeable.

“Um….thanks sir, I mean—ma’am,” I stammered, standing up straight.

“I except high standards from you.”

“Yes si—ma’am!”

“Good, now go out there and make me proud,” she barked. Last time I checked I didn’t sign up for boot camp. 

I naturally saluted and sprinted away from the change room, quickly standing beside Klaire.  She nudged me to see if I was okay and I nodded back.  The quick hustle brought some adrenaline, it bumping my veins.

Wolf hoots and whistles broke out as the guys rustled from the change room. 

“The guys and girls gym period is mixed?” I asked surprised.  Back in Ontario it was always separate for perverted reasons. 

She snorted, reminding me a little of those bitchy blonde girls, but Klaire didn’t seem like that type so I pushed the thought.

“Never.  They mix genders only during the track race and the stretching time.  Sometimes we even do a little co-ed game at the end of class,” she said, eyes sparkling.  I crossed off ‘nail breaking freak’ in my head.  Guess she loved sports as well.

I smiled, relief washing over me.  Thank god.  I would hate to have gym with Brian.

“Alright ladies and gentlemen, everyone outside to the fields!  It’s time for laps!” 

Klaire and I headed outside with the crowd.  At the corner of my eye I noticed Klaire shoot a deadly glare at one of the guys checking her out.  I crossed off in my head, ‘not a typical blonde’.  Maybe we could really be friends. 

“Look who it is,” said a familiar charming tone.  You’ve got to be kidding me.  I felt a hand slinking up my arm to my neck.  I shivered and pushed the person away, only to have my hand taken in a hard grip.  “Isn’t it my favourite druggy,” winked Brian as he wrapped his arms around my waist.

“I’m not a druggy, you oomph a loompa!” I said.

“I’m guessing you two know each other?” asked Klaire raising an eyebrow as she watched me struggle to get him off. 

Well done Karma.  Well done.

ϞϟϞϞϟϟ

There might be confusion to why Rivyn has this grudge on Brian and why she is such a Mean Girl aka bitch, but there’s a reason. 

Awkward moment when you walk away from your 12 year old sister and mom as they are watching Friends With Benefits. 

Life lesson #1: Never watch sex scenes with your parents.  No matter how ‘orally’ educational it may be.

:) Please vote and comment on my story 

The book trailer at the side! -->