The Tenth Girl Read online

  The door they went in is off the parking lot; I should be headed toward the front entrance doors around the other side of the building. My heart is beating, and I can’t get the sight of that boy rumbling up in his open top Jeep out of my head.

  I feel like a peeping Tom, but this is nothing new. One of my favorite activities back home in Florida was people watching. At school, at my job at the local bait and tackle shop, in the mall, walking around the beach. Watching people and their actions or interactions was immensely interesting to me. Human behavior, people trying to appear a certain way or hiding something … I was nothing if not a sucker for secrets.

  I creep to the door, careful because if they’re right on the other side, they’ll see me. I press my body up against the brick exterior of the building, and slowly turn my head to the right to look through the door.

  The door is an exit to one of the stairwells in the school, and I can see through to the brightly lit corridor through the door opposite the one I’m peeking in. Out of the corner of my eye I see movement right before the stairs, which sit on the far side of the room I’m looking into.

  And there, leaning against the wall, is the bad boy. His head tilted back, eyes closed, hands thrust into a head of hair.

  A head of hair from the girl who is kneeling in front of him, giving him a blow job.

  My heart starts with a shock, pumping faster and faster like it might just jump out of my throat at any moment. I was already sweating because of the walk and humidity, but my shirt starts sticking to my skin, every part of me flushing.

  There they are, in the school building at six thirty, having oral sex. I’m shocked, although I’ve seen things more lewd than this growing up where I did. I’m not sure why I feel like a raw nerve right now, but it’s something in his expression.

  Primal. Pure satisfaction. Dirty secrets in the stairwell of a school.

  It’s all so forbidden, especially to my virgin heart. And thighs.

  I must be breathing too hard on the glass, my breaths coming out in puffs, because just then, his head comes down from where it’s pressed up against the wall.

  He looks forward, and our eyes connect.

  Green, the color of glittering stones. They contain every single bad, dirty wish that takes a good girl down. That can get her on her back, out of her clothes.

  Those eyes are potent, and I shouldn’t look into them for fear of paralysis. For fear of falling. For fear of wanting something that a boy like that could never promise me.

  I look into those eyes, and then down to the lips.

  Which are smiling a Cheshire cat grin.

  Chapter Three

  Cain

  A doe in headlights, like the ones my father had shot or run over and hung around his den.

  Those baby blues and white-blond hair were virginal, everything about her rings out as pure. Except for the rack she’s attempting to hide under that T-shirt. Those are more than a handful each, and my cock stirs in Christy’s mouth as I stare at the voyeur on the other side of the glass.

  Her eyes are saucers, rimmed by thick black lashes obviously enhanced with makeup, even if it is the only stitch of it she has on. The rest of her face is bare, her lips natural, her skin a shade of sun-tanned freckles. She watches as I get head, the girl on her knees in front of me cupping my balls and slicking her tongue down my shaft.

  Her fingers touch those nude lips, and I see it, a twitch of her left knee. She’s getting turned on.

  I groan, because it feels too damn good, and raise an eyebrow, watching her watch me.

  Who is she? Maybe a freshman, I’d never seen her before. This school is too big for me to know everyone, even though everyone knows me. I also wasn’t into learning about others. My popularity drew the slutty or cool ones to me, and that’s all I had to do to make a friend or get a girl.

  But I’m not naïve. These people were clingers, hangers-on. They all want a piece of me so they could say that they knew Cain Kent when I finally made it to the big time football league.

  Kelly, or Nelly? Damn, I already forgot her name. She was sucking on my cock and I’d forgotten her name.

  We’d met at the weekly bonfire party on Saturday and had drunkenly talked about sneaking into school for a hot make out session. So we’d waited until Monday, to make it realistic, and here we were. In the stairwell, her lips suctioned to my dick, and I was close to coming even before I knew that this mysterious fairy of a girl was being a voyeur on my pleasure.

  When I glance back up, after watching pulling Kelly or Nelly’s hair to maneuver her head the way I want, she’s gone.

  Cupping the mouth at my balls with both hands, I fuck her mouth in a dirty, rough way. The novelty of being at school was wearing off, and I was hungry as shit. I just wanted to come and then go to the diner for a massive breakfast sandwich.

  My spine begins to tingle and my knees lock up, my body rigid. I see the wisps of fireworks at the corners of my eyes as I let go, spilling my seed into her pretty mouth.

  “Thanks, darlin’,” I drawl as I zip up my shorts, moving away from her without a backward glance.

  Hell, I don’t even offer her a hand up to get off of her knees. And I’m definitely not going to give her a ride back to wherever she needed to go.

  Walking out to the sounds of her hesitant protest, I jump into my doorless Jeep and start the engine, turning the volume on the Florida Georgia Line song all the way up.

  Peeling out of the parking lot, I let the morning sun wash over my face.

  Head, loud music and a greasy breakfast sandwich all before seven a.m.? Could my teenage life be any more idyllic?

  Nah, it couldn’t. Mostly everything came easy to me and I took full advantage of it. I don’t mean to sound like a cocky little prick, but when your life played out like a movie, it was hard not to.

  I drive through town, stopping for my sandwich at Hendrick’s Deli, on the house because I’m Cain Kent.

  There is still an hour until I need to be back at school, perks of having a free period for the first block of the day. So I drive out to my favorite spot, three miles out of Haven and on the shores of McCray Lake. Throwing my Jeep into park, I watch the sun rise over the water and eat my breakfast, the post-come feeling still tingling in my veins.

  Yeah, life is pretty damn good in my neck of the woods.

  But, as soon as I thought this, and it was happening often enough now to unsettle me, anxiety rippled through my stomach like someone petting a dog’s hair the wrong way.

  This was my last year in Haven. After I graduated, life became real. College football meant serious business, hundreds more plays to memorize, keeping up a grade point average while traveling the country.

  I was already committed to the best football school of them all, the big bad school in Austin, so I wouldn’t be going far. When I signed my commitment I was told I’d be their starting quarterback, no redshirting. But, of course, there are no guarantees.

  It was a huge weight of pressure on my shoulders. Of course, I wanted football to be my career, but here in Haven, it was easy. Everyone already knew how good I was, there was no proving a thing. Girls understood their place in my world; ornaments and sex objects, as bad as that sounded. I didn’t have time for anything else. My friends were my boys forever, and I knew the lay of the land.

  Next year, I’d be a small fish in a huge pond. My entire life, I’d been the shit. The king.

  I get out, loving the smell of the long grass and muddy water. Looking out over the lake, home of summer day drinking and nights of cars parked, steamy windows; I smile.

  I had less than one year left. I’d better make the most of it.

  Chapter Four

  Harper

  I’d planned to get to school early.

  To walk the halls and find my scheduled rooms and then walk them again to get the timing down.

  I was nothing if not type A.

  What I didn’t expect was to view the full-frontal peep show before I even ente
red the building.

  It had thrown my entire day off, and I felt flushed and discombobulated still, three periods into the day.

  Math was my most challenging subject, and it wasn’t ideal that it was my first class each day. I considered myself a good student, but put numbers in front of me and I couldn’t compute. Add in my morning’s excitement and trigonometry was impossible.

  Second period was an elective class, and I’d chosen photography thinking that it would be interesting but also easy. Turns out, the teacher was a former Texas beauty queen who knew more about posing for pictures instead of lenses and shutter speeds. I rolled my eyes no less than fifteen times.

  Not to mention that Haven High school was completely different than any place I’d ever been. There were girls walking around in high heels. Heels … in high school. I was lucky if my classmates in Florida even wore shoes in the morning, coming right off the beach after catching swells.

  It was like a runway in this building, girls with highlighted, blown out hair. Midriff baring tops, boys with bodies like I’d never even dreamed. Football jerseys and cheerleading uniforms everywhere. And the air … it was different. Ripe with cliques and privilege, I’d only read about schools like this in books.

  I felt completely underdressed in my ripped skinny jeans, not done on purpose or by design, and plain beige T-shirt. My hair, white-blond and straight, hung long down my back, but there was nothing special about it. And aside from mascara, I didn’t bother with makeup. If I didn’t coat the black ink on my lashes, I’d look albino with my pale eyelashes.

  But it was time for honors English, and I was in my element and ready for books. Reading took me to another plane, and hopefully we’d have some creative writing time in class for me to work on my own novel that I was slowly but surely getting done. Since I’d picked up my first Judy Blume book, I’d known that an author was what I wanted to be when I grew up. I figured that college was a long shot with the amount of money we already didn’t have, so I’d just start self-publishing and see what happened. I’d been researching for years, taking free writing seminars at the community college in Florida that they offered to high school students, and teaching myself graphic editing programs to make covers. This was my dream, my quiet dream, and after four years, I was close to making it come true. Nothing could deter me.

  I’m busy setting my textbooks out and grabbing a pen out of my backpack as the other students walk in, chattering away. I picked a desk in the second row, toward the outside of the classroom. It was unassuming, just like I was trying to be. As the new girl, I was nearly invisible, which was all right with me.

  And then the only roadblock that could possibly knock me off course walked in.

  Green eyes had a different girl than this morning draped around his arm, and a guy in a football jersey was walking next to them, talking loudly with his hands.

  They didn’t spot me, didn’t even bother looking at anyone, though everyone else was openly staring at them. I imagined it was what celebrities must be like.

  They sit in the back row, horsing around. I wonder how he even made it into a class like this, although it’s possible that whatever those kinds of kids want, they get.

  “You might want to pick your jaw up.” A voice comes from just behind me.

  I turn, seeing the pretty redhead chewing a pale blue fingernail.

  “Sorry?” I can feel the blush creeping up my cheeks.

  “The Alphas. They’re glittering, I get it, but I wouldn’t get mixed up in that.”

  I’m confused, as she’s wearing a cheerleading uniform just like the rest of the pretty, popular girls I’ve seen sauntering around the halls so far.

  The longer I look at her, the more I see how attractive she really is. Her features are delicate, her hair long and curly in a perfectly unruly way, and she’s toned. The kind of toned you see in a magazine and know you’ll never be.

  “Don’t get swept up in all that. Especially as a new kid. Better to just do your own thing.” She swipes a curtain of scarlet over her shoulder.

  I can’t tell if she’s giving me friendly advice or warning me off. “How did you know that I was new?”

  It was late September, so it wasn’t a far off assumption that someone showing up in your class who hadn’t been there since the start of the school year was new. But, I was trying to fly under the radar and so I didn’t need the whole front of the class introduction.

  The cheerleader gives me a duh look. “It’s almost October. You’ve never been in my honors English class before, and I’ve never seen you. I’m Mary-Kate, by the way.”

  I can’t tell if she’s pulling my leg by talking to me, but her southern twang is inviting and I don’t know a soul here. So I bite.

  “Harper Posy, resident new kid. Thanks for the … tip?”

  She nods her head. “Welcome. Seriously, don’t get wrapped up in the drama here. There is way too much of it.”

  “Says the cheerleader.” I snort.

  “New girl has sarcasm, I like it.” She grins. “I cheer because I like it, and do you know the kind of college scholarships I can get?”

  I never considered this, but I’m sure sports bring in some money. Too bad I had no eye-hand coordination, and my talents were best left to words and stories.

  “Your initials are HP? That’s sick.” Mary-Kate giggles, and I don’t find her observation annoying.

  Like I normally do. You can’t grow up in the English speaking world and not be teased if your initials are the same as a fictional wizard that the entire planet is obsessed with. My mother included, which is why she named me Harper Pearl Posy. Technically, my initials are HPP, but those who teased me growing up never seemed to care about that. I’d always wished that my mom and dad had gotten married, or that Dad had fought harder for my last name to be his own, Baker. At least then I wouldn’t have these initials, or have been teased in grade school during the song, “Ring Around the Rosie.”

  I don’t get a chance to answer her, because class starts just then. The teacher comes in, an older man with a graying goatee and woven bracelets, and I instantly take a liking to him. He’s like a hybrid hippie with his unkempt hair and cowboy boots, and I feel like this is exactly what a good English teacher should look like.

  “I’d like to mention that we have a new student with us.

  You don’t have to call me Mr. Whethers, just call me Todd. This class is an open discussion on books, not some bullshit forty minutes trying to look for symbolism that isn’t there.”

  Thank God. This class is going to be awesome. My solace in this wacky school.

  Just as Todd is about to launch into a list of books we’re expected to prepare for each week, I hear a ringtone go off in the back of the class.

  We all look back, and I hear Todd sigh. “Look, while I’m a lenient teacher, don’t abuse that power I’m putting in your hands.”

  And as he’s saying this, the guy I saw in the hallway this morning, starts to FaceTime with someone on the other end.

  “Hey, bro, what’s up?” He holds the phone up and waves hi to the person on the other end of the camera.

  And that’s enough for me. I’ve had a stressful morning, due in part to him and his sex acts. I’ve been running around this school like a mad woman. And now, in my favorite subject, he’s interrupting by being a jackass.

  “I know that you must think the world revolves around you, whoever you are, and that you don’t have to try in school because who cares if you become the next guy behind the counter pouring slushies. But you’re being a total asshole right now. Have some respect, put your phone down, and pay attention. Because unlike you, some of us enjoy school, and actually want to excel at it so that we can go on to do bigger things.”

  Chapter Five

  Harper

  The entire classroom is so silent, you could hear a pin drop.

  “Um, excuse me?” One of the ditzy girls next to him turns an evil eye on me.

  In my fit of rage, I can fee
l that my face has become hot, and it’s probably bright red. The whole room is staring at me, including Mr. Green Eyes.

  And he’s wearing a shit-eating grin on those full lips. “Cain Kent.”

  He clicks his call closed and gives me his full attention. I’m so annoyed that I don’t even care if I’m having an outburst. I’m usually the kind of girl who doesn’t want to be seen or heard, but I’ve had enough.

  “What?” I seethe, annoyed.

  He levels me with his intense gaze, the air around him moving for his big ego. “That’s my name. You should know the name of the guy you’re calling out. Big mistake, by the way.”

  Out of the corner of my eye, Mary-Kate is waving her finger across her neck, as if to tell me to abort my suicide mission.

  Todd seems to sense the tension, because he clears his throat. “We have enough drama with Shakespeare, folks. Let’s focus on the lesson.”

  I glare one last time before I turn in my seat, smiling apologetically at my teacher.

  The class goes by in a blur as my nerves calm down, and I’m actually really excited for the books he has planned. He belongs in a liberal arts college, but I’m happy that Todd is here instead.

  The bell rings and the classroom begins to empty out, and I see Mary-Kate idling as I collect my things, checking my schedule and the number of the classroom I need to sprint to next.

  Cain Kent, or hot jackass as I am now referring to him in my head, passes me. His stare is hot and uncomfortable, and I try not to squirm.

  “See you around, Peep.”

  Oh. My. God.

  All of my insides flush, because I know why he just called me that. Short for Peeping Tom. He saw me this morning, watching him, and he remembered. Shit.

  “Girl, I don’t know what size balls you have, but they must be brass because you just picked a fight with the biggest bull of the bunch.” Mary-Kate whistles as Cain walks out.