What To Do When His Girl Isn't You

Chapter 7

I kick up the speed on the treadmill and focus on the sound of my shoes hitting the belt. As one of my many moving requirements, Daddy had a personal gym put into the new house. I wouldn’t be caught dead in a public gym. Ever. I’m not big on other people’s sweat.

I all-out sprint the last mile and a half, then bring it back down to a jog once I’m completely out of breath. A nice hard run was exactly what I needed to clear my thoughts. Max is a tough one, but Aubrey Marx is not one to go down without a fight. Or do gown at all, for that matter. I don’t lose. It’s just not something I do.

The thing is, my next move is obvious. Like, smack-you-in-the-face obvious. But it’s not exactly ideal for my image or own personal self-confidence. I know I’m going to have to bring myself down a few levels and get on Max’s good side. If I can just get him to lower his guard for a few minutes, I know I’m in.

Thanks to Alexis, I know the way to do that is soccer. But I made a promise to myself years ago that soccer and I were through. There is always a time for an exception, but only if I have absolutely no other way. And, being who I am, there is always another way. Soccer is my absolute last resort, and I’m not quite there yet.

I jump off the treadmill and wipe the sweat off my face. I look in the full-wall mirror and smile. Even red-faced and sweaty I still look good.

Say hello to your new best friend, Max.

~

I pull into my normal parking space and cut the engine. As per usual, groups of guys whistle and catcall as they pass my car. I roll my eyes. The funny thing is, I think some of them actually think they have a chance.

I haven’t said a word to Max for two days. It’s all a part of my plan to make him think that I’m reflecting on my actions and beginning to feel bad for what I did. If he’s as gullible as I know he is, by time tomorrow comes it’ll be like we’ve been best friends for years.

No matter how much I threatened or screamed, and no matter how much money Daddy offered the school, they wouldn’t let me not take gym. So, right after homeroom, I headed to the gross, smelly locker rooms.

I changed quickly, trying to imagine myself in my happy place. But when you’re surrounded by a shit ton of girls wearing too much makeup and talking too loudly about what and who they did last weekend, it’s a bit of a challenge.

Lucky for me, the gym teacher is in his mid-thirties, old enough that the girls don’t try to hook up with him, but young enough that when I flirt with him and pretend not to notice when he stares at my ass I don’t feel too gross or violated. He’s single and still pretty good-looking, so it’s painless, almost pleasant, for me to try to get on his good side.

“Aubrey, think fast!” Mr. Oliver yells as he tosses a football in my direction.

“Mr. Oliver, I wasn’t ready!” I shriek as the ball hits my arm. I pout and cross my arms, fully aware of how it pushes up my B-cups.

“That’s the whole point, Aubs,” Mr. Oliver says back, his eyes flicking down to my chest and lingering for a few seconds. I smirk when he looks back at my face and he blushes a little bit.

“Shh, it’ll be our secret,” I say quietly as I walk over to him, eyeing him knowingly. “I’m not feeling too great today. Think I could sit the period out on the bleachers today?”

Mr. Oliver looks flustered. I smirk triumphantly.

“Uh, yeah, yeah sure, go on ahead,” he stutters.

I smile and sway my hips as I walk over to the bleachers. A few minutes later, a tall blonde boy I don’t recognize comes and sits down next to me. His arm is in a cast and sling.

“What’s your story today?” he asks gruffly.

“Excuse me?” I snap back defensively. He rolls his eyes.

“I’ve never once seen you actually participate in gym class. Every single day, you’re sitting here on the bleachers. Don’t even try to lie to me. I know exactly the game you play,” The boy says all in one breath.

“Oh, do you now?” I say. “Go on, enlighten me.”

“You flirt with Mr. Oliver,” he states confidently, catching me a bit by surprise. “You show him your boobs and your ass, and then when you catch him staring you basically blackmail him into letting you sit out.”

“How do you know all of that?” I ask him after a few seconds of silence.

“I may seem quiet, but I pay attention. I know what goes on.”

“Well, what’s it to you anyway?” I ask him angrily.

He holds up his hands in defense. “I just think it’s really shitty and unfair, is all. Gym isn’t all that bad. Everyone has to go through it. So should you. I don’t think sitting here with nothing to do is much better than at least pretending to participate.”

“Actually, it is much better,” I retort, staring him right in the eyes. “I don’t get sweaty, my hair doesn’t get messed up. And, to top it all off, you get a really nice view of some muscular guys running around and getting sweaty.”

At that moment, Max runs by and catches my eye. I wave and flash a friendly smile. The boy snorts beside me.

“What’s your problem?” I ask, instantly angry again.

“My problem is you,” he snaps back. “You, and every other girl who wastes time fawning on arrogant assholes like Max Montgomery.”

“Maybe you’re just jealous,” I offer, glaring at him. “You know, you’re not much of a walk in the park either, dickhead.”

“I have a name.”

“And I have two middle fingers that both want to say hi to you.” Thankfully, this shuts him up for a few minutes. He was really starting to get on my nerves. No one ever talks to me like that, and if they do, they don’t get away with it.

“Ethan.”

“What the f*ck?” I whip my head back around and stare at him, dumbfounded.

“My name is Ethan Shift,” he says. I start to turn back around but stop short when I realize what he said.

“Shift? As in that bitch Alexis Shift?” I ask, hoping maybe he can give me something on her. I’m not exactly sure what I’d do with it, but I’m sure I could come up with something.

“She’s my cousin,” he says through gritted teeth. “And don’t you f*cking let me hear you talking about her like that ever again.”

“Oh, please.” I roll my eyes.

“I’m serious,” he reiterates, eyeing me carefully. “And stay away from Max. I personally can’t stand him, but Alexis cares about him, and I care about Alexis. So if you hurt Max, you hurt Alexis. And if you hurt Alexis, I hurt you.”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” I snap. “It’s bad for your health.”

Ethan is about to respond, but luckily the bell rings. I get up and stomp off as quickly as I can, not even bothering to say goodbye to Mr. Oliver.

I calm down a bit back in the locker rooms. Listening to all the other girls complain about being sweaty while I fix my already perfect hair is an odd solace.

Because of my encounter with that ass of a kid, Ethan, I decide to postpone the next step of my befriend Max plan till tomorrow. At this point, I can’t risk anything. It all has to go down perfectly. Which it will, because I always get what I want. Always.

***Hey guys! I'm really, really sorry for leaving you hanging for so long! I've been really busy, and to top it off I don't have access to my own computer in the summer. I hope you guys are still sticking with me, though, and I hope this chapter makes up for it a little!***