Im A Ballar Novels & Stories

I breathed in deeply, then turned to the flowery hand mirror on my nightstand. I sighed heavily. “Maybe I shouldn't show my face out there,” I couldn’t remember anything from the Ball. Not the dance, the music, or the attitude people swore I carried like a badge.

Of course, I wanted that because I know that it will end in a very hot and heavy make out session and it won’t have an happy ending because I wouldn’t want to sleep with him because he is injured and then we will both end up with blue balls and don’t ask how I will end up with blue balls because you think I don’t have balls. I have balls, they are just not things you can see physically. More like something like I am a ballsy woman. Fine, I am not because I ran away from Marcel but still. We are all going to pretend I am ballsy and besides rejecting a ruthless alpha like Marcel in front of his entire pack take balls or wouldn’t you agree? Huh? You agree, right? “Let’s just focus on the boring

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My words come out rough and gravelly and my eyes are wide in surprise. “There’s a ball tonight?”

"Whoever finds it will earn a place in the safe zone." My body went rigid as I lightly tapped my chest and felt a ball nestled between my breasts. I remembered putting a ball in my shirt, but I had completely forgotten about it. That's when I straightened up and prepared to capture everyone's attention once more. "Sir," I whispered in a soft voice, "I--I have two," I quickly adjusted my shirt, and the ball slipped down onto the grass, startling everyone. I had no idea when I had managed to secure this second ball, but I felt foolish for chasing after another one and enduring a beating when I already had one.

He stumbled backward and shouted, "What are you talking about? I'm straight! What couple? How can you say that?" Watching him flip out left me speechless. He was straight? Yeah, well so was I. Earlier that day, I met up with some friends to play basketball. That night, they dragged me to this casual spot where we had loaded fries, wings and ice-cold beer. When I got home and finally crawled into bed, a sharp pain tore through my stomach. Worse, there were bloodstains on my pants. As someone who had been dealing with hemorrhoids, I knew immediately what happened. They had ruptured.

I asked, my voice soft and edged with a quiet mockery. Lara bit her lip, her complexion shifting between flushed and pale. She forced out a cold laugh and stared at me, trying desperately to regain her composure. "Eliza, stop playing these mind games. Mr. Green chose me because of my talent! My private coach is the internationally renowned Ms. Mystic! Mr. Green personally praised my fundamentals as flawless. There's no way he'd replace me because of you!" When she brought up Mystic's name, the surrounding students collectively gasped, their faces filled with envy.

, I say with a smirk. “Haha, besides the usual, what’s up?”, she says. “Well, I’m holding a ball.”, I answer. “And why are you doing that?”, she asks, raising an eyebrow. “Because I was told being queen meant I would have to hold balls every so often.”, I say, leaning against the wall. “Sounds fun.”, she says sarcastically. “It does, especially when you're going too.”, I say with a smirk. “What.”, she says flabbergast.

What has my jaw on the floor is the double line of nearly-naked women flanking the entrance to the front door. Men in suits strut past them, smoking cigars and smiling, acting like they own the world (which they kind of do), and as strange as it is to admit, I look around in something close to panic, searching for Baron. “What is this!?” I asked the driver. “The annual Body Ball,” he replies calmly. Then he glances in the mirror and winks. “Never heard about it before?”

I’m not іn the gаmе аnуwау. “Surе, let’s рlау.” I lеt hеr rack uр the bаllѕ and wе ѕtаrt. I’m nоt іntеrеѕtеd in anything more thаn a gаmе of рооl. Shе gеtѕ thаt рrеttу quickly. Mу mіnd іѕ on Cаrrіе аnd whаt nееdѕ to bе dоnе.