Trophy Daughter

Chapter 5- Rock Witcha Body

Tutoring was less than horrible with Barnabas the next day, just mind blowingly boring. He needed to learn how to lighten up and not have a pole stuck up his ass all the time. But, I guess having a sheriff for a father guaranteed that pole being permanently lodged up there. That's a lot of pressure to be perfect.

I tapped my hand impatiently on the desk as I went through some questions, annoying Barnaby to no end and giving me some sense of amusement. It was childish- but I wasn't doing it on purpose, it was just a tick.

"Can you stop that fucking tapping?" He snapped, thumb and forefinger rubbing his forehead. I shrugged on arm, checking my watch for the time.

"If I stop will you let me go earlier? I need to get changed"

He gave me a curious look but nodded, angrily sighing. "Just stop the tapping. It's doing my fucking head in" Ever since he realized I swore more than a sailor, it had enabled his own foul mouth to express itself. On some levels, it was kind of hot.

I shrugged and finished the last equation, pulling my bag up and saluting Golden Boy. "Have a good fuck- I mean date with Denise tonight. She's one of the cleanest girls I know"

I gave him a knowing smirk before shrugging. Her cleanliness wasn't my problem- but it would surely become one of his soon. Especially if he liked fucking the whole football team.

"Wait, what do you mean?" His suspicious voice stopped me and I sighed, turning around. This boy should really find out more about his hump and dumps- but out of the kindness of my heart I decided to clue him in.

"She's not called S-T-Denise for nothing Barny boy. That information is gonna cost ya later" I winked and hurried away before he could ask me anymore questions- which meant I would be late for my date with Vincent.

Ah, Vincent. His name, the thought of his face and body, just made me feel all warm inside. Gooey and sappy, yes, but also hotter than a fucking firecracker- that man was a sun to every star at this school.

I quickly got changed out of my sweats into a pair of fitted shorts, a black turtleneck with a knee length sleeveless coat and some high heeled ankle boots.

I looked in the mirror, running my hand through my choppy black hair and nodding.

"Don't act like Yonce, be Yonce."

I actually wasn't that obsessed with Beyonce like all the other girls and boys of my generation- I preferred someone like Cupcakke. She was a slut and revelled in it- was honest about it. But the saying fit Beyonce's name, so I had to use it.

A text pinged on my phone and I read it excitedly.

I'm here. Do you want me to come in?

He was a gentleman, a true, hotter than the sun, gentleman.

Nah, i'll walk out and you can gape from the car.

I hefted my bag into my locker, taking out my wallet and car keys. He could drop me off later so I could get my baby back.

I went to walk out of the hallway but spotted a wild Barnabas, casually leaning against the door frame, an angry look on his handsome face. I cleared my throat but quashed the urge to ask what was wrong. He was the ex of my dear friend Belinda, my resident Devil of a tutor and just a general prick.

He glanced up from his phone, then took a second, longer look, green eyes wide. I felt a smile tugging at the corner of my lips, but spotted a large Cherokee waiting out in the parking lot.

"Have a good one Barny Boy"

I pushed past him and out to the big truck, smile on my face as Vincent jumped out, dressed immaculately in a pair of light blue jeans and short sleeve button down. He gave me a low whistle, opening my door. "You look beautiful"