She's Not In Your League Novels & Stories

Her brows shot up in question so I gestured to my hands, "I'm not going to run so I don't need to be chained." She snorted, but inevitably grabbed each of the shakes in her hands and shattered them. It surprised me the amount of strength she had in her tiny body but then again, she was the soon the be Alpha of Alpha's. I rubbed the burning flesh, watching as it began healing the second they were free from their restraints. "Broke me out to talk again," I taunted, leveling our eyes. She laughed but there was no humor behind the action, "Yeah, I wish," she jutted her chin forward, "there's a lake not to far from here. You stink and I think that could help the situation."

"Remember when you liked Jon but you were still like, oh, it's not like I would want to date him?" "Precisely, because do you see how many miles there are between our leagues?" "What leagues." I give her a blank stare. "No, seriously, you tell me! Cause I know your league. You’re real and physically? You have a mirror for heaven's sake. Personalities? Jon's not a troublesome guy. So tell me again about those leagues." "How about you tell me about last night?" I counter. Her face falls immediately, and she drops her head in her palm. "Nothing much. I sneaked out and ran into Cole."

You’ll get us expelled. She turned her face up at me and smiled then. ‘’Us? The only person that can get expelled is you, I can’t get expelled – I’m no one. Not a member of the Red foxes basketball team or the cheerleading sqaurd, not even a student of Canterbury high.’’ Before I could say anything, she slipped a key out of her pocket and opened the door and then I couldn’t wait to get in and find out what it was she wanted to show me.

There were only a small number of them entering this secret campus and maybe two looked like football players. A girl nudged her elbow and sat down next to her. “Hey there, my name’s Vanessa, I’m co-leader of the cheerleaders of the Lions, you look like what we’re looking for?” Quinn pursed her lips together looking over the bleached blond in her short flared skirt and tight blouse with a judging glare. “Ah…no offense but…” “You look like the type…” Vanessa rudely interrupted Quinn’s rejection. “Are you a dancer or something?”

I guess they must have settled their issue for him to be allowed to come with us. “Okay I'll be waiting," I replied. I was almost done with my makeup so I increased my speed so they don’t get here and start waiting for me. I applied dark red lipstick on my lips and I was ready to go. I wasn’t overly dressed but I made sure to dress to hunt. After all, I’ll be the only single person in my group. The club we're going to is the biggest in the city and it is owned by a friend of Zach. As for now, it's my favorite club and I don’t see any other club beating it anytime soon.

I stood frozen, my hands and feet icy cold. They were right in front of me, doing the most shameless things without a hint of restraint. After a low, breathless sound, Theo looked at me with open contempt. "Catherine, did you get a good look? This is what a real woman is like. Cheap tricks like drugging someone and crawling into their bed only make people sick." Humiliation burned through me. Without realizing it, my nails dug into the back of my hand, leaving red marks behind.

They were probably wondering why someone disabled like me was joining them in a game of capture the flag. Just as things couldn't get worse, I see Leighton approach me with her group of friends, strutting in sync with each other. "Sorry, this game is for people who actually know how to play sports." She said with a sly, piercing look. "Yeah, and society is for non-bitches only!" Leah shot back at Leighton. Leighton looked horrified, and I wasn't sure if it was because Leah just called her a bitch or was it the fact that the boys were chuckling at Leah's comeback.

“Maybe. But I didn’t scream like a banshee.” The sass rolled between us like old friends, though we’d barely spent more than a few weeks in each other’s orbit. That was the danger of her — she didn’t feel like an opponent. She felt… easy. Like a woman who belonged in a sweatshirt and mismatched socks on a couch, not in a gilded ballroom with the other glassy-eyed elites.

Most of the tables were already occupied by rich looking kids some of them typing away at their iPhones, others picking at their food or probably talking about whose Dad was richer or who bought the latest limited edition shoes. Leigh couldn’t stop herself from scoffing. In her opinion, they were highest circle of delinquents. She spotted the cheerleaders pretty fast given their uniform blonde hair -- yes, all of them had dyed their hair a shocking blonde-- and super tight crop top over jeans. Leigh wondered how anyone could breathe over something that tight, confining and damaging to the ribcage. She was still stewing over the damages of super tight tops to the ribs when she noticed one of

When I left the country, Sean had been gravely ill with barely any hope of survival, and his business was in dire straits. In just two years, he made a miraculous recovery, and even his business had soared to new heights. However, Sean knew why I left the country. I turned toward him, but he remained quiet, showing no intention of standing up for me. All of a sudden, a woman named Cynthia Tucker picked up her wine glass and stood up. When I saw her face, I was momentarily stunned. She shared an uncanny resemblance to me, but the words that came out of her mouth were filled with malice.