The Golden Boys: Dark High School Bully Romance (Kings of Cypress Pointe Book 1)

The Golden Boys: Chapter 39



I’m on autopilot, just moving through this day so I can put it behind me. The only thing I want is for this weekend to be over. Never in a million years did I think I’d miss home, but I do.

I miss it and I’ve spent the entire morning and afternoon so far trying not to cry and even now, I’m sure I look a mess. My eyes sting every time my thoughts slip back to last night, to the contrast of extreme highs and lows. To say that I’m devastated would be a huge understatement. My heart feels broken, but that can’t be right. That would have to mean I’d given it to West at some point and that’s a lie.

Our team pulls out another touchdown and I’m relieved when I look at the time on the scoreboard winding down. We’re up by several points and it’s nearly over. And as for West, this will be his second win in twenty-four hours. The first being tricking me into sleeping with him. All so he could shut down and humiliate me afterward.

I’m an idiot.

So stupid.

I shove the thoughts aside and just keep taking pics. Several carloads of CPA students drove up for the big game, so this small section of the stadium is filled with familiar-ish faces. I’m posted a couple rows behind the dance squad, doing my best to forget everyone exists.

As soon as the game ends, I’ll go to my room to pack, and then the last storm I’ll have to weather will be the bus ride home in the morning. If I can avoid West completely, it’ll be fine.

At least that’s what I keep telling myself.

Dane scores big, narrowly avoiding a nasty tackle from two of the biggest seniors I’ve seen in my life, but he’s too quick and makes it into the endzone. The entire crowd goes wild, but no one’s as ecstatic as Joss. I think back on the few times I’ve noticed how she and Dane are together and I fight the jealousy that creeps in. There’s an ease to what they have—even if it is only friendship—but I’m almost certain it’s something I’ll never experience.

With anyone.

Two girls from the dance squad turn and zero in on me just as my gaze slips from Joss. Their eyes are wide, and one has her hand clamped over her mouth, but she quickly averts her attention upon realizing she hasn’t been as discreet as she first thought.

A loud cackle from the other end of the bleachers gets ignored because I’m focused on getting a shot of the ball in midair after West snaps it, but then, all of a sudden, the air is abuzz with a symphony of phone notifications. Even my own is vibrating in my pocket.

“Is that her?”

“Oh my God!”

The chatter around me picks up volume, but I’m still mostly numb to it, still focusing on getting this job done so I can curl up in the hotel room bed and pretend I’m invisible.

Right now, that sounds like heaven.

I snap another photo—intentionally avoiding West’s face—and glance at the scoreboard. Only a couple minutes left in the quarter and it’s a guaranteed win. Not that I care at all about that.

“Well somebody just got famous for all the wrong reasons,” a girl to my right says loud enough to catch my attention. And now that she has it, I realize she’s looking right at me.

In fact, several people are looking right at me.

And those who aren’t, are glued to their phones.

There’s a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach, although I don’t yet know why I feel it, but it has my hands shaking as I reach into the pocket of my hoodie to pull out my phone.

And the second I do … bile rises in my throat.

“Guess we all know where you spent last night.”

I don’t know who said it, nor do I know who’s laughing now, but it sounds like everyone.

Everyone is laughing at me.

I glance at my phone again, unable to believe what I’m seeing, but there it is, plain as day.

Me and West. In his bed last night. Naked.

And it isn’t just a picture … it’s a video.

My head is spinning and I’m on my feet and pushing my way through the crowd to dart up the stairs of the massive stadium. I’m willing to bowl over anyone who dares to stand between me and the exit, because I have to get out of here.

Have to.

How is it possible that one mistake has humiliated me twice?

I can hardly see through the tears that come, as I search desperately for the way out of this place. My phone is to my ear and I feel it shaking in my hand. I need someone to get me as far away from here as possible, and there’s only one person I can think to dial.

My call is answered on the first ring. “Hello?”

“Can you please come get me? I can’t stay here,” I say, sobbing so hard it’s a miracle I can even be heard. My stomach is in knots and my chest burns with rage and humiliation.

“Text me the address. I’m on my way.”

I lower the phone and run faster than I’ve ever run before, all to get away from the one I no longer trust myself around. Not because I fear I’ll let my guard down with him, but rather because I couldn’t say for sure I wouldn’t kill him.

Of all the things I believed West to be capable of doing, I never saw this coming. Not ever. But one thing he should have learned about me is that I’m no pushover. S~ᴇaʀᴄh the (F)indNƟvᴇl.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

If it’s a war you want, West Golden, then that’s precisely what the fuck you’re gonna get.

@QweenPandora: And here I was thinking our team snagging the big win would be the top news of the day. But it seems someone’s making an early submission for this year’s Pink List, and her name is Blue Riley, a.k.a. NewGirl.

Some suggest the risqué video speaks for itself, putting our girl at the top of Cypress Prep Academy’s annual “slut list”, but if you ask me, something’s not quite right. For starters, do we even know who leaked it? I mean … before I got my hands on it, of course.

Too bad we can’t ask the leading lady herself. Word on the street is, she took off as soon as her debut hit the web.

I have a prediction, and it’s maybe a little grim. For every action there’s a reaction, people. Mark my words, there will be some pretty extreme fallout resulting from this fiasco. And when shit finally does hit the fan … you know I’ll bring you the scoop first.

Until next time, peeps!

Signing out…

—P

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