Chapter 5

I try to tell myself that it is in Tyler's and my best interest to act as if we don't know each other. This doesn't have to be a disaster. If anything, it's an opportunity to prove to Ash that nothing's going on between us. I would die before ever admitting to knowing a Las Jun rat.

As we approach the gates, I spot Tyler leaning against his blue Ford Bronco. I bite down on my lip to suppress a snicker, he looks too big for that car. Tyler's arms are knotted on his chest, and he is wearing a pair of Jax Teller Ray-Bans and a frown. His black shirt has a hole where the heart is, and his black skinny jeans highlight how tall and trim he is. There was some bruise on his face to prove he fought last weekend.

Ash, in comparison, looks like a tank (and has about the same IQ as one). Ash and I stop in front of Tyler, far enough away to indicate this is not a social call on both ends. It feels like wielding a sword, and Ash hasn't seen Tyler's yet, but it already has my blood on it from this morning when he promised to conquer my land and overthrow me.

"Howdy, asswipe." Ash thrusts his hand Tyler way for a fist bump.

"I see you brought some muscle," Tyler ridicules me.

He leaves Ash's fist to hang in the air until it drops. "Is she going to bore me to death talking about hair straighteners? Is that your strategy?"

Ash looks back and forth between us, whistling long and low. "Oh, shit. I thought you two were banging for sure when Bella showed an ounce of emotion when you got your ass kicked by knight. This bitch's icy heart wouldn't melt in a desert."

"We are in the desert, idiot." I roll my eyes.

"Exactly!" Ash wiggles his eyebrows.

"How're things, Tyler? How's your

girl?" Does Tyler have a girl? That makes no sense. My heart starts beating way too fast.

"Not your business," he snaps.

"Let's get to the point. I have cheer practice." I wave my hand.

"I think the point is you don't belong in this conversation," Tyler says in that lazy, unaffected way that drives me nuts.

"Gate's that way, use it." He motions for the school entrance. Ash snickers, clapping Tyler's shoulder. Okay, that's it. Being a dick in private is somewhat acceptable but in public? It's a declaration of war.

"I think I'll stay." It's my turn to cross my arms over my chest. "To translate your language to Ash. He doesn't speak fluent white trash."

"And you do?" Tyler curves a devastatingly sophisticated eyebrow. "Burn!" Ash fists the air, laughing.

"Shit, you two hate each other. That's hot."

No joke. Before I can think about the meaning of my words or their effect, they rush out of my mouth in a desperate plea to defend my honour.

"Fluent. Your mother taught me." I smirk. In my defence, I hate myself even before the words leave my mouth. After they do, it feels like my heart is a sieve and all the poison gushes out. I can't believe I just said that. I'm not even surprised when Tyler's face morphs from bored to fuming.

His nostrils flare, and he removes his shades, his eyes narrowed into hooded slits. My hand flies to my mouth. Tyler's expression turns volatile. It makes me think of the storms that rip through roofs and uproot trees.

"My, my, my..." Ash pops his gum, raising his ball cap and running his fingers through his brown hair. It's so shiny and straight, it looks like dunes of sand flying in the wind.

"Tyler Carter is making enemies in high places, but I can't say I'm surprised in the least. You were saying, Carter? I haven't got all day. Some of us need to practice. The first game of the season isn't one I want to lose." He winks.

"Forget it" Tyler shakes his head, pushing off his car. He's leaving. He is leaving angry. Because of me. He slides into his car, and it's all in slow motion.

I want to cry and scream, but I hit my quota of public meltdowns for this semester at the snake pit. Ash bangs his roof twice, parting ways with him for one last dig. "Sick ride, dude. Did you steal it from a Farmer?"

"Stole it from your ma, Ash. Although she likes a different type of ride, doesn't she?" Ash goes red. I don't know why.

I don't care why. They're both jerks. I turn around and run back into the school. I can't stand here. I can't stay put. I can't breathe. Ash is yelling behind me that I'm becoming a freak and I should stop hanging out with the Rose girl. Not that I ever do. Rose and Knight and Ariel and Via and Liam are a tight-knit group that doesn't give a damn about what anyone thinks and have each other's backs—and then there's me.

I give a whole bag of damns. It's ironic since I'm one of the most feared and loathed people in school. I run to the girls' locker room across the football field. Since I'm late for practice, no one is there now. I swing the door open and lock myself inside a shower-changing stall. Collapsing against its wall, I drag my back along with the ugly graffiti of slut-shaming words, some of them written by me, and rake my fingers down my face. Shit. Why am I such a jerk?

The Hulk pounded his fists against my chest when we were out there, telling me not to show weakness. So why do I feel so weak? I wipe my face, down a bottle of water, and unlock the door. When I step out, I rid myself of my dress, yank my locker open, take out my cheer uniform, and slam it shut. Behind the locker, a familiar face pops into my vision.

"Fight or flight?" I jump back, slamming my spine against the lockers. Tyler. "What the hell, Tyler ?" He's in the girls' locker room at a school he doesn't even attend.

He's got the word trouble written all over him. Not to mention—he is seeing me close to naked.

"Answer me."

"Fight. I always fight. So, does your girlfriend know you slept with Luna"

I smile sweetly, trying to look unaffected, but I immediately regret my question. I'm not supposed to know about Luna, and I'm not supposed to care.

Tyler whistles, nodding. "Keeping tabs, Bella? My turn to ask a question." He takes a step toward me, crowding me against the metal cabinets. The place is spacious, if not embarrassingly luxurious. The lockers are the colour of our uniforms; blue and black and our rich parents shelled out thousands for the fancy chrome sinks, glass showers, and upholstered navy benches.

Tyler's gaze is so penetrating, my skin blossoms into goosebumps. As though he can see beneath my skin. I'm ugly behind the tan and makeup and mascara. All flesh and inner organs and blood vessels and hate.

God, why am I so hateful? "Are you actively trying to be a bitch, or does it just come naturally?" A little bit of both, the Hulk inside me explains. I'm naturally envious and petty, but being a bitch is a knee-jerk reaction when I feel threatened.

Of course, I would die before giving him a real answer. I run my cold gaze over his healing face. Perfectly troubled and gorgeously flawed. I'd flip my hair if he gave me room, but with his body flush against mine much closer than he was when we were in my bathroom yesterday; if I move, I'll touch him. I want to touch him. Which is exactly why I won't.

"When it comes to you?" I run my eyes over his face. "I'm a natural, baby." When he continues to ooze stoic boredom, I elaborate on a scoff. "You started it, okay? Ash thought we were peeps, so he wanted me to play mediator. But you couldn't stop throwing digs at me. Was I supposed to just stand there and take it?"

"Isn't that what All Saints cheerleaders are for?" He smirks.

"You're a jerk."

"And you're a liar. You ambushed my ass."

"Why would I ambush for you?" I stomp, and my knee brushes his leg. His jeans are torn at the knees, and I caught a glimpse of the dusting of light hair on his tan legs when we were outside. I'm sure all of him is glorious, and it pisses me off that I don't have the entire mental picture of him naked.

The same one he has of me. "Because you're the cool kids' puppet? Because you think you're some bullshit queen bee who has to shove her nose into shit? Because I hate you—" I crash my lips on his with a furious kiss that shuts him up. I know I'm a chicken shit and just don't want to hear the truth.

What surprises me is that he relents. His hands cup my face, and his lips mould with mine. I don't understand any of this. I don't kiss boys I hardly know. I don't even kiss boys I do know. Kissing is a huge deal for me.

Yet Tyler is not exactly a stranger. It's as though I carried him the entire time he was gone in that sea glass necklace, and now that he took it from me, the only way to satisfy this craving is with his attention. His stares. His wrath. His lips. "My team will kill me." I grin into his mouth, and his tongue wrestles its way between my lips again.

"You can't put cream in front of a starving cat and expect it to look the other way." His breath is ragged, and his hands are big and callused, rough and warm and familiar. His fingers trace my face and neck and hair, tugging it back to arch my neck, and he sucks on the spot beneath my jaw until I yelp as he marks me.

Joy explodes in my chest. Tyler taste in my mouth is heaven. Sweet and dangerous, like a man. I taste cut grass and the California sunshine and a bit of sweat and toothpaste and heat. Our tongues are dancing together. I'm no longer sure if I'm sad or happy, but whatever I am—I'm feeling it. I'm living it. I'm alive.

His erection presses against my stomach, and I'm beginning to grind myself against it when reality trickles into my brain. I hear the whine of the door as it opens. At first, I think a teammate must've walked in on us, but when Tyler plasters himself against me, covering my semi-naked body, and I find myself chasing his touch with my hips and lips, I realize he doesn't want to make out with me—he is shielding me. I blink, desperately trying to sober up.

"...much explaining to do." A metallic voice seeps into the room like chemical warfare, causing my eyes to pop open. Oh, God. When I twist my head, I see Principal Richard standing in the doorway, filling it with his intimidating frame.

He is alone, but I'd rather the entire school watch me making out with Las Jun Bulldogs captain than him. Tyler steps in front of me and tilts his body fully toward Principal Richard so I'm still covered. Instead of apologising or explaining himself, he rummages in his back pocket for gum, unwraps it, and tosses it into his mouth.

The wrapper falls to the floor. I think he just unlocked a badass level I've only seen Ariel and Knight ever reach.

"Principal Richard." My mouth feels like it's full of cotton. He stares at my face behind Tyler with raw anger that makes my cheeks burn. I shouldn't feel like a cheater but something about the scene feels wrong.

Disloyal. "Tyler Carter." He clucks his tongue. "When I invited you to join our team, I meant the football one, not cheer, and I did not count on you taking a tour in our facilities unannounced."

"Should've clarified." Tyler pops his gum, running his fingers through his hair. "Step away from Miss Thomson ."

"Not before you look the other way," Tyler shoots back. To my shock, Principal Richard averts his gaze to the lockers on the other side.

Mr Richard doesn't do nicely very well, so I need to fix this. Fast. "This one's on me." I jump in front of Tyler before he has the chance to escalate the situation any further.

"I dragged him here. It was my idea." They both stare at me, stunned. I don't mind taking the fall for this since my reputation is already toasted with Principal Richard, what with the way I let him use me. Plus, I genuinely feel crappy about what happened outside. I want to atone for what I did. I'm not a monster.

"He's here because he wanted to come here. He has full motor control of his two legs," Mr Richard snaps.

"Three, if you count the important one, sir." Tyler rubs his cheek, indifferent boredom dripping from his voice. He is sticking it to Richard. This punk is unreal. "He is here because I lost a bet and needed to kiss a thug. We're done here, anyway." I snort, slipping into my cheer skirt and cropped shirt.

I don't dare lift my gaze to see their reaction. It's a lie, but it's one that would pacify Richard and make him understand that Tyler is not my boyfriend. That way, Tyler won't get in trouble. Richard narrows his eyes at Tyler.

"I don't appreciate you talking back to me, young man." Tyler rolls his eyes as though the man's dramatics have exasperated him.

"Tyler" I whisper-shout. I clutch the fabric of his shirt next to the hole, and he shakes me off, still staring at my principal. He is fearless. That's when I realize I'm not only attracted to him. I envy him, too.

"If I see you on my school grounds one more time, I'll inform the authorities." Principal Richard chard turns around, his whole body rigid. I chase after him on an impulse. Tyler grabs my wrist, pressing his thumb to my vein. His snake eyes ask me a question I haven't given anyone a straight answer to. What the fuck?

"I got what I needed from you." I wiggle free of his touch, yawning. "If you're here to clean the lockers, the mops are in the maintenance room across the field."

The walk to Principal Richard chard's office is silent and long. When we reach his door, he tells me to forget about making it to cheer practice today. "Via can cover for you. She's quite clever when it comes to getting what she wants. Besides, we have some business to attend to." He locks the door. My heart races. A click never sounded so final in my life.

🩰

Boys are a sore subject for me. First, let me say that the past few days have been trash, and I'm happy I get to unwind at the end of it. Throughout the entire week, my dad hasn't been home, both because of his business he had in San Diego. Maybe he was with his mistress.

My mother is trying to spend more time with me. She keeps asking me how school is, and I keep dodging. If she truly cared, she'd check. She hasn't checked in years. I feel invisible. I always feel invisible. As though I blend in with the walls, and furniture, and the clear glass bowl on the counter where my parents keep apples shined by our housekeeper.

By the time Friday rolls around, I'm on edge. All Saints has a football game against las jun, and we win but not by much.

Luna, who is a flyer and needs to be extra focused, is having a meltdown in the locker room but refuses to tell anyone what it's about. Via does her makeup in front of the mirror, and mumbles, "Bitch is probably pregnant with that hood rat's baby." I excuse myself and go throw up in one of the toilet stalls. "Maybe Bella is preggers, too!" Luna cries from the bathroom stall next to mine.

When I walk out, Via approaches me and cocks her head with a tsk. "You look seriously bad, sweetie. Maybe you should sit this one out." Maybe you should die. High school is full of sharks. People are always broiling with the need to burst free. Only the strong survive