Hanging With The Bad Boys (Edited)

Chapter 18- I Don't Trust Him At All

The next day

Beep! Beep! Beep!

My alarm rings, and I groan; it's 7:00 am—only half an hour to get ready. Trina came back around 10 pm last night, drunk as hell, after some guy dropped her off.

I head to the bathroom to freshen up, then open my closet to find something to wear. Hmm, what should I put on?

My phone vibrates on the dresser; it's a message from Justin.

Jerk: Me, you, and Jordan will ride our motorcycles while the others take the car.

Me: Cool, see you in ten minutes.

I pull on my leather jeans, a black crop top, a leather jacket, and my black heeled boots. After applying some mascara, smoky eyes, and putting my hair in a high bun, I add lip gloss.

Checking myself in the mirror, I look smoking hot—Trina will be speechless. It's 7:25 am; I have about seven minutes to eat breakfast.

I grab my bag and phone, then leave my room. Trina has classes around ten, so I'm surprised to find her in the kitchen eating toast. She stares at me, mouth agape, and I smirk.

"A-Anne?" she stutters.

"The one and only," I reply.

"Since when do you dress like that?" she asks.

"Since George Washington became president," I say sarcastically.

"Seriously?"

"Since last week. I'm changing for the better. Now, I need to eat before the guys get here."

She dashes upstairs, probably to brush her hair to impress them.

I drink a glass of milk and grab a Pop-Tart before heading to the garage for my motorcycle and helmet. Trina stands by the front door in a mini skirt and sleeveless top, showing off for Jordan.

I hear two motorcycles approaching; Justin and Jordan pull up, followed by Kyle's car.

They all get out, and Trina stares, shocked that I'm friends with the six bad boys, especially since she couldn't date them last year.

"Hi Anne, let's go; I don't want to be late," Jordan says.

Kyle rolls his eyes. "Since when do you care about school?"

"Since the day your grandmother was born," Jordan retorts, and I chuckle.

Trina approaches, "Anne, I didn't know you were friends with the bad boys—"

I cut her off. "That you couldn't get. Get used to it." Justin smirks. She frowns, and Jordan flirts, "And who's this sexy girl? You look familiar."

Jacob whispers something, then frowns. "Let me rephrase that: Who's this slut? You look familiar." I laugh. She scoffs and heads back inside. I high-five Jordan. "Good one. Now let's go, guys; we'll be late."

I hop on my motorcycle and put on my helmet. The boys do the same. "First one there wins."

We hit the road, and Kyle pulls out a rag. "On your mark." I start my engine. "Set." I lift my foot. "Go!" I speed off, Justin catches up, then Jordan, but I refuse to lose.

I accelerate past Jordan, smiling as I catch up to Justin. I'm neck and neck with him when he speeds off again. I'm loving this race; we should do it every day.

Five minutes later

I spot the school ahead, and Jordan passes me twice, but I reclaim my lead. Now I'm aligned with Justin, and I see the parking lot with students fifty meters away.

I speed off, leaving Justin behind, and pull into the parking lot, all eyes on me. I take off my helmet, and gasps fill the air as Justin and Jordan follow, then Kyle's car.

The jocks whip out their phones to take pictures of me.

"Good race; you're really good at this," Justin says, and I smile, shrugging.

"Hey Kyle, you owe me twenty bucks," Jacob tells him.

"And you owe me fifty," Luke adds.

Kyle frowns. "No, I won the bet, Luke; I bet Justin wouldn't come in first."

"Liar; you bet he would come in first. Now pay up," Luke insists.

Kyle sighs, pulls out his wallet, and hands Luke fifty bucks. Jacob collects his twenty.

Jordan protests, "So no one bet on me?"

Carlos smirks. "Yeah, I did, that you'd come last, but no one took me up on it; they knew you would anyway. Why bother?"

The boys laugh as we walk inside to our lockers. I spot Brandon by mine, holding a bouquet of flowers, with some cheerleaders drooling over him.

He smiles when he sees me. Justin whispers, "I don't trust him at all."

"He's your brother," I reply.

"Half," he growls. "I'll see you in class."

I walk to Brandon, who hugs me. "Morning Ana, you look hot," he says, making me blush. Stephanie, standing nearby, rolls her eyes. Today she's in a high-waisted skirt, heels, and a black strapless top.

"Oh look, the nerd finally got a boyfriend; it's about time," she says, and her friends laugh.

I growl, "Shut the f*** up, slut." She looks shocked. I open my locker, and Brandon grabs my books.

"It's too bad your jock won't last; just look at you. I can't understand why the bad boys are even friends with you," Stephanie sneers.

"Because opposites attract, and they prefer normal girls over sluts like you," I snap. Gasps echo around us; it's so quiet I can hear a pin drop.

"I'm not a slut," she retorts.

I laugh sarcastically. "You're definitely not Selena Gomez either."

"Well, you're a nobody," she shoots back.

"Come on, that insult is so last season. At least I'm a nobody, while you're a slut who dresses like one and opens her legs for every guy she meets."

The bell rings, and I grab Brandon's hand, walking down the corridor as everyone parts for us. I feel great standing up to Stephanie; I have to tell the boys about this.