Well Beyond Expectation

Chapter Three.

Weston

The final bell rings out and all of us seniors settle into our seats in the crowded auditorium. I lean back in my seat in the second row, stretching out and propping my feet up on the back of the seat in front of me. The brunette sitting there turns around quickly, ready to bitch at whoever kicked her chair, but when she sees it's me she drops the eat shit look and replaces it with the eat me look.

           

"Oh hey, West." She smiles, a cute dimple in her cheek. "Ready for the game tonight?"

I tilt my head, giving her a little taste of the charm smile. "You know it, we're going to crush Davenport, no doubt."

She smiles harder. "Cool, so I'll see you at the after party?"

She's asking for a lot more than information and we both know it. She's cute though, so I say, "Sure." and shrug, then turn away from her with a smile. "Trent, where the hell is Beck?" I ask my buddy beside me.

I have to elbow him in the ribs to get his attention away from the blonde behind him. "He's...uh, oh he's waiting backstage on his sister."

I roll my eyes and cross my arms over my chest. Of course he's waiting on her. How does that girl get through a single fucking day without her brother there to hold her damn hand and blow encouragements up her ass? She's got to be the neediest chick that ever existed, and I've seen some pretty damn needy ones.

The chatter in the room dies down and here she comes.

She walks out onto the stage, all doe eyed and scared as she waits to the side for Headmaster Rockwell to finish making his own lame announcements that no one ever listens to.

I have to try incredibly hard to stifle my laugh when he waves her forward and she nearly trips over nothing but air on her way over to take the microphone from his hands. The spot light has to adjust to find her and when it does the guy to my left make some low appreciative noises as he stares up at her. I mean, sure, I guess I can admit that she isn't hard to look at, but she definitely isn't worth the effort.

"Good morning," She practically whispers, then clears her throat. "My name is Lena Proper-."

"Lena Prude." I cough, making her pause and a few snickers ring out in the room.

"And I am filling in for Sandra Walter." She continues after a sharp glare down at me that I smile innocently at.

Trent gives me firm elbow into the gut and I grunt as I double over and my feet scrape down from the chair in front of me. "Dude, what the hell?" I whisper.

He looks at me like I'm an idiot with a death wish. "Bro, you know you can't be talking shit about Beck's sister like that. He's going to have your balls for that."

I throw back in my seat and give him a look. "Sounds like Beck already has your balls." I frown. "I can't stand that chick, and I'm not afraid of her big bad brother like the rest of you pansies."

"What's your issue with her?" Josh leans forward to ask over Trent.

Brad knocks his knee against mine and laughs. "She's probably the only girl to ever tell ole West here no." He cracks himself up but I roll my eyes at them.

On stage she prattles on and on about how these are the best years of our lives and what we do here at Plexer will set the foundation for our bright futures ahead of us and blah blah blah. Her voice shakes every now and then, giving away her nerves. Well, that and the bright red color of her cheeks.