5

But that wasn’t good enough for Jase. No, he issued a whole school lockdown. It was excessive. I knew it. Asher knew it. Everyone knew it. But since everyone also knew her step-brother’s reputation of following through on his threats, no one dared ask her out. And for the last three years, Hailee had been a social pariah. She kept herself to herself, had a small circle of friends, and preferred to lose herself in the art studio than lose herself in school spirit. Although part of me couldn’t help but wonder if she liked it that way, or if she’d just come to accept her fate.

I should have felt an ounce of guilt of over it—I didn’t. Because the truth was, Jason wasn’t the only one who had issues with his teammates, or anyone else for that matter, hooking up with Hailee.

“Found them.” Grady, another senior, breezed into the locker room, holding a pile of clothes. “But you’re not going to like what she did to your jersey.” He unballed the white and cobalt-blue shirt and held it up, a strange mix of fear and amusement flashing in his eyes.

“Fuck,” someone mumbled as we all took in the drawing of a pair of tits covering half his jersey. If it wasn’t so weird it was actually a good drawing. Really good.

“I call a D-cup,” someone else shouted. But Jason didn’t respond. He simply snatched his jersey back off Grady, anger radiating from him, shoved it into his bag, and started getting dressed.

Jason liked to think he had Hailee under control. Liked to think he called the shots, that he ruled the roost. But over the past couple of years, she’d grown ballsy. Going up against us more. Against him. It was like she didn’t give a fuck, and it had made for some entertaining memories.

There was just something about getting a reaction out of her that got my blood pumping. Although he’d never admit it, Jason and his step-sister were a match made in heaven.

Thank fuck my best friend had a shred of morality left. Because watching him jones after his sister would have been a step too far—even for me.

It wasn’t that I wanted her.

I didn’t.

I just didn’t like the idea of anyone else having her either.

 

Hailee

All week I waited for Jason to retaliate. But to my surprise, he never did. In fact, Tuesday morning when I’d left my bedroom to go downstairs, I had almost stumbled over a bag of my missing bras. It had taken a thorough investigation to deem them safe. There was no note. No hidden traps. Just my bras in all their super-supportive glory. Anyone else might have thought it was a white flag. But I wasn’t anyone else. If anything, I knew the gesture was a decoy, intended to throw me off the scent of whatever he really had planned.

So all week I waited.

And waited.

My senses went on high alert whenever I spotted Jason and his friends in the halls at school. But they barely looked in my direction—just how I usually liked it. Except for Cameron. His eyes always lingered a little too long. As if he was plotting; planning my downfall. It was unnerving, but I didn’t overthink it. Maybe he was feeling particularly douchebaggy this year? Whatever it was, I didn’t care, because no matter what they dished out in my direction, I could handle it.

I’d been handling it for the last five and a half years.

Everyone thought Jason and I hated each other. But it wasn’t about hating him, so much as hating everything he stood for. So he could throw a football? Big whoop. So could thousands of other eighteen-year-olds. Personally, I didn’t understand the nation’s infatuation. Playing sports didn’t make someone a good person. It didn’t make them trustworthy or kind. In my experience, football players were usually conceited assholes who cared more about their dicks and winning games than what was going on in the world around them. How their actions affected the world around them.

“Earth to Hailee,” Flick glared at me and I blinked, stuffing down the memories.

“Yeah?”

She popped a chip in her mouth and frowned. “You’re so weird.”

“And you shouldn’t talk with your mouth full.”

“Don’t look now,” she lowered her voice. “But Jason just walked in.”

So what did I do? I looked. Being told not to do something was like a red flag for me to react. Mom called me stubborn, but I preferred dogged. Jason didn’t even glance over in our direction though.

Weird.

“Huh,” I said, starting to feel a tad disappointed by his lack of retaliation.

“Don’t tell me you actually want him to come after you?” Flick gawked at me, as I pushed a fry around my plate, coating it in a delicious ketchup and mayo combo.

“I’m not saying I want him to...” My words died on my tongue as I felt eyes on me. Lifting my face, my gaze collided with Cameron’s.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say Cameron Chase has a crush. That’s the fourth time this week I’ve caught him looking over here,” she said, her lip twitching.

“Yeah,” I snorted. “And pigs can fly.”

“Would it be so strange? You’ve known him for years.”

“You’re serious?” It was my turn to gawk. “Did you forget that he helped my brother that time they stole my bike and clothes when I was swimming down by the creek and I had to walk three miles home in just my bathing suit and flip flops?” Granted we were only thirteen back then, but I’d had blisters for a week, and the sunburn had stung like hell. “Or the time in ninth grade when he and Asher snuck into the house when Jason was sick and decided to scare the shit out of me with those freaky clown masks? Or the time—”

“So they like to get a rise out of you... You know, some people call that foreplay.” Her brows waggled suggestively.

“Oh my god, you are serious.”

Flick shrugged. “I’m just saying, he’s looking at you like you’re oxygen and he’s drowning.”

No, he wasn’t.

Was he?

I discreetly peeked over at the football team again. They always sat at the same tables; the ones next to the windows overlooking the athletic field. Cameron wasn’t watching me now. He was talking to a petite blonde thing—a junior called Kayla, or maybe it was Kylie. I wasn’t sure, because unlike most of the kids at Rixon High, I didn’t make it my life’s mission to know everyone. In fact, I could count my friends on one hand. But it was easier that way. When we’d started high school together, and people realized I was Jason’s step-sister, they looked at me differently and I quickly became a stepping stone to Rixon High royalty.

Something I had no desire to be.

Ever.

I watched them together. Cameron smirking, her practically in his lap, all doe-eyed and coy, in a totally obvious kind of way.

“Is that jealousy I see plastered on your face?”

I leaned across the table and pressed my hand to Flick’s forehead. “Are you sure you’re feeling okay?” We’d never talked much about Jason and his friends, let alone looked at them. But I’d caught Felicity’s eyes wandering in their direction more than once this week.

“Deny it all you want, but I know these things,” laughter filled her voice, “and I’m telling you Cameron’s into you.”

Into making my life hell more like.

I rolled my eyes at her, but found my gaze wandering back over to him. The blonde was stroking his stubbled jaw now, her chest pushed up against his. God, I wasn’t jealous. I was nauseous. The way girls threw themselves at them was disgusting. Raiders didn’t date. They screwed around. Rotated through girls like an all you can eat buffet. And the girls at school were all too willing to be on the menu.

“Remember that quiz we had to do at the job fair last year?” Flick said, her eyes darting to the tables the football team occupied. “How many girls do you think answered jersey chaser for the ‘where do you see yourself in five years time’ question?”

I snickered. “Too many.”

“It’s so pathetic.”