[s c h o o l of 2 0 0 5 series book 1]
❝Bite me!❞
❝I did. Thrice, remember?❞
♡♡♡♡♡
What do spray paint, playboy magazines, and quiz tests have in common?
Trust Natasha Glazer and Blaze Warner to know the answer to that question.
The boardi...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"Woah, woah, woah, woah, woah!" I couldn't stop the words from falling out of my mouth. What he was charging was way too much.
"Whenever you are done, princess," the guy mocked before crossing his arms.
"That's way too much," I said firmly, shaking my head profusely.
"Sorry, doll. I charge extra for the rumor plus the tax if you’re rich, privileged, and famous." The guy now wore a smug smile, obviously knowing he had the upper hand.
"Are you kidding me?" I deadpanned.
"Time’s runnin’ out. You want this done or not?" He shrugged and looked at me with his brows quirked up in anticipation.
"Ugh! Fine!"
____♡____
PREVIOUS DAY
____♡____
Have you ever met someone and just instantly hated them?
The kind of hate that even though your mind told you it might be pointless, you still felt it. Felt it deep in your gut.
It’s like when you saw that person and you just wanted to hurl a brick at them or run them over with a bulldozer.
The kind of person, who, if he’d asked for a high five, you would instead smack them in the face using a fucking frying pan, ‘Tangled’ style.
The kind of person whose parents should have been taxed for disposing such a toxic waste into the world.
The kind of person you wished had their chairs always make farting noises when they took a seat, but only once so they could never prove it wasn't them.
The kind of person... Ugh! You got my point!
The thing was, getting away from such irritating, itching-to-get-kicked-in-the-ass-worthy people was tough, because they were all around us and there was nothing that could be done about it.
For instance, Blaze Warner, who apparently managed to become the so-called heartthrob of half of the freaking Hill Station in a short period of two weeks.
All I wanted to do was squash him to pieces like a bug under my shoes. Even though I was an atheist, I wanted to pray to the gods of lightning to fucking fry his ass. Or just straight-up take a nice long stick to shove it so far up his cocky ass that his mouth starts choking.
But could I really do any of those things?
Not. Bloody. Likely.
So what if he was eye candy or could shoot a few balls in the basket with his eyes closed, or the fact that Father Joseph, St. Joseph’s dean, known for being strict, was actually his uncle. And yet Blaze was going around breaking the rules and letting himself be called the “Rebel King”.
