“You really think so?” I challenged her, not able to wipe the smirk from my face. “Try it. I guarantee it’s not going to work out how you think it will.”

A brief moment of indecision crossed her face before she tilted her chin up in ignorant stubbornness. “You think I’m bluffing? I’ll show you.” She spat the words at me like a curse, then stepped backward out of the locker rooms—taking my clothes with her.

I heaved a sigh and mentally cursed myself out. I just had to push her. Why couldn’t I have kept my trap shut and lured her closer until I could grab my clothes back? Now I was going to have to face the whole school in nothing but my French lace panties and bra. At least it was a cute set.

Chewing my lip, I debated wrapping back up in my towel, then quickly dismissed it. Brittley and her crew were seeking to humiliate me, so I couldn’t show them even the slightest bit of embarrassment.

Rolling my shoulders, I sucked in a deep breath, pulled up my metaphorical big girl panties, and barged out of the locker room. Right into the middle of the crowd gathered around Brittley—who kept sneaking glances at Katelyn Huntley like she was seeking validation from the new girl.

Somehow in my exchange with Brittley, I’d missed the fact that the end of class bell had rung and more people were gathering by the second.

Cat calls and jeering almost deafened me, but I still caught it when Katelyn made a bitchy comment about my supposed promiscuity. Same old narrative from high school bullies, it was almost boring in its predictability.

I rolled my eyes and folded my arms under my breasts, totally unconcerned with being in my underwear. Why should I be? My swimsuit covered less skin, and that didn’t stop me wearing it in public during the summer months.

“Hilarious,” I remarked in a tone dryer than the Sahara. “Now give my clothes back, Britters.”

A cruel, slightly deranged smile played across her face, but she made no move to hand my sports uniform back. In fact, she handed it to Katelyn, who grinned at me as she poured her soda all over it.

My jaw clenched, and I fought back the urge to march over there and punch this blonde bitch right in her perfect nose. I could break it, Dylan had taught me how.

Just as I was giving in to the impulse, I felt the heavy weight of eyes on me.

Beck.

Turning slightly, I met his gaze from behind a group of younger jocks taking pictures with their mobiles. His eyes were blazing with fury and his whole body radiated tension, but to everyone else, he looked totally blank. Uncaring.

Narrowing my eyes at him, I changed my trajectory. Brittley and her new BFF were forgotten as I shoved the amateur photographers aside and confronted Beck and the guys.

“You asked for this,” Beck said so softly I was sure no one else would have heard him. It only infuriated me further, though, and I let that anger show in my glare for a tense moment before breaking our eye contact and looking to his side.

“Jasper,” I said in a neutral tone, “Give me your sweatshirt.”

Jaspers eyes widened and he ran a hand through his platinum blond hair. “Riles,” he groaned, flicking his gaze at Beck and shaking his head reluctantly. “You know I can’t.”

His words, like Beck’s, were quiet. The students around us had all backed up, giving us a wide berth as they waited eagerly for the Delta Elite to give me some sort of verbal slap down.

“Let me rephrase,” I snapped, narrowing my eyes at him. “Give me your sweatshirt and I’ll forgive you.” His jaw dropped slightly, and he looked torn. “Prove to me that you didn’t fake our friendship for your own gain, Jasper.”

He held my gaze, and I recognized all the guilt and regret within his. He only hesitated a second longer before unzipping his hoodie and tugging it off. “Sorry, bro,” he muttered to Beck, ducking his head to avoid the rage filled death glare that Beck was aiming at the both of us.

Jasper wrapped his body-warmed hoodie over my shoulders, and I wasted no time stuffing my arms in and zipping it closed. I wasn’t embarrassed or humiliated to be in my underwear—like those bitches had hoped—but it was only early spring and I was fucking freezing.

My shorter stature thankfully meant Jasper’s hoodie covered my ass, but I was still cold as shit so the rest of the school day could kiss my ass. I was getting out of there. I’d deal with the detention and missed classes later.

Jasper grabbed my hand and started leading me out to the student parking lot, but I couldn’t help myself. I turned over my shoulder and gave Beck a smirk and the middle finger.

“You’re going to be the death of me, Riles,” Jasper complained as I hurried across the freezing parking lot behind him. “Do you have any idea how badly I’m going to get chewed out for taking your side over Beck’s? He’s going to kill me. Oh my god, I just committed suicide for a chick with nice tits.”

He was fast deteriorating into melodrama, and I couldn’t help laughing a little at his expense. “Oh stop it, drama queen,” I teased him, “Beck isn’t actually going to do anything to you. His ego is just a little bruised, and if you ask me, it’s about damn time. Now, can I drive?”

We’d just reached his canary yellow Lambo and Jasper threw his hands up, mouthing words at the sky like he was cursing out a god for landing me in his life.

“Sure,” he finally said on a heavy sigh, tossing me the keys. “Only cuz you drive like a wet dream and I need to enjoy my final moments on this earth.”

I snorted a laugh but happily slid behind the wheel of his sports car. Maybe I should thank Brittley … this was a much better use of my afternoon than sitting in detention.

7

Beck

“This is getting out of hand,” Dylan told me, totally unnecessarily. As if I didn’t fucking know. As if that scene in the hallway hadn’t made me almost totally lose my control and throw Riley’s lush ass over my shoulder like a caveman.

Fucking hell.

“No shit,” I snapped back, staring after Jasper’s obnoxious yellow Lambo as it peeled out of the Ducis Academy parking lot, carrying my girl away. “I want every fucking phone in this school wiped of all photos. Not one image of Riley in her underwear had better hit the internet or I will break some faces.”

“I’m on it,” Evan replied, whipping out his own phone and scrolling for the right contact. As tempted as I was to physically snatch all those phones and stomp all over them, Delta had more subtle ways of getting it done.