Total pages in book: 36
Estimated words: 35946 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 180(@200wpm)___ 144(@250wpm)___ 120(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 35946 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 180(@200wpm)___ 144(@250wpm)___ 120(@300wpm)
I wish I could say I keep my nose out of student drama, but please. Are you kidding me? It’s like the best teen drama ever, and it’s not even on TV. It’s live in the hallways of Winchester. Damn right I eavesdrop when I can. Also, Zara Bateman and Ramona Weiss are my kind of girls. Smart, down-to-earth, and sassy. They’re also not the type to get that involved with boy-drama or who wore what, or whose father is making more than whoever else’s father. And at Winchester, I can tell you, that’s a rarity.
Zara is an art nerd through and through, though her main thing at Winchester is the school band. Well, multiple ones. She’s first chair trumpet in the school orchestra, lead guitar in the jazz band, and she plays the tuba in the marching pep band, which makes her ridiculously cool in my book. The occasional blue or purple hair that I wish was allowed in the staff dress code here only cements that cool factor for her.
Ramona and her are friends through orchestra, where she plays clarinet. Romana’s one of those “jack of all trades” types when it comes to school cliques. She’s in the orchestra, and she loves my art classes, which should put her squarely in the “art-nerd, counter-culture” crowd. But then, she’s also head of the debate team, class Valedictorian, and on the varsity cheer team, so go figure.
Oh, right, and she’s also Celia Weiss’s daughter.
…Celia Weiss as in Ethan’s new stepmother.
I blush, quickly looking down at my work as the two girls keep talking.
“Seriously?”
“Yeah, they dog-piled on when he and Derrick went at it.”
“Wow, real tough.”
Zara snorts. “Seriously. But he was apparently fighting like four of them when Coach Kirby and Principal Kane pulled them all apart.”
“Yeah, well, he’s a big guy.”
“So is Jamison.”
My eyes freeze on the page I’m reading as Zara goes on.
“I can’t believe those two are going to be your stepbrothers.”
The realization suddenly hits me that it’s Ethan who’s been in a fist fight.
“Ugh, me neither. At least it’s less than a year before college.”
“Ethan seems… nice? Or, I don’t know, not a douchebag at least.”
“No, he’s fine, I guess. Jamison is a total dick though.”
“I mean, a cute dick?”
The two of them snort before Ramona scowls and shakes her head.
“Ew, no. Plus double ew. That’s my stepbrother. My mom is going to flip though about Ethan getting suspended.”
My head snaps up, and I’m opening my mouth before I can even stop myself.
“Did you say Ethan Scott was suspended?” I blurt out, cringing the second I do.
Zara glances up at me and grins.
“Yeah, Ms. Hayes. Him and Derrick Maybach, for fighting in the lunch room. Why?”
I swallow, thinking quickly.
“Uh, nothing,” I mumble. “He was, um, he was supposed to meet up with me later to go over some art school applications.”
Ramona makes a face. “Sorry, Ms. Hayes. You want me to bring him anything?” Her mouth twists. “I don’t know if you heard, but he actually lives at our house now. Him and his brother, since their dad—”
“I heard,” I smile quickly. “And congrats to your mom.”
“Thanks.”
The two of them turn back to their projects, and I sit, fuming as I snatch up my phone to text Ethan. Why am I texting him? Why do I even have a student’s personal cell number like this?
Oh, right, because I’m screwing him and having the time of my goddamn life doing it.
Suspended? Really?
I type angrily.
He replies instantly.
Yeah, really.
For fighting??
Apparently, they don’t like that at Winchester.
You think?
There’s nothing for a minute before the text bubbles reappear, and he sends a reply.
What are you doing right now?
I glance around the classroom, feeling scandalous that I’m texting him like this, here.
Studio hour.
I want to show you something…
My pulse quickness, and I swallow as I blush.
I’m at SCHOOL, Ethan. Before you send me a dick pic.
Instantly, my phone buzzes with a call, and my face goes hot as his number pops up. I snatch the phone up, whirling and stepping through the doorway into my main and now empty classroom before answering.
He’s laughing when I do.
“So was that a request?”
My face burns.
“That was not a request,” I hiss.
“You sure? It sounds like you want a picture.”
“I really, really don’t.”
There’s a long pause, and I can almost hear that grin on his face.
“You sure about that,” he purrs lowly, making my pulse skip. I grin, biting my lip.
“Not while I’m at school,” I say quietly, glancing back into the studio.
“But maybe after, huh?”
My thighs squeeze shut, and my pulse quickens as I think about his cock.
“Maybe later you’d want to do more than see my cock.”
“Maybe,” I breathe.
“Come over,” Ethan growls.
“Where?”
“My house.”
I blink, balking slightly.
“Ethan, I’m not coming over to your parents’ house.”
“Why not?”
“Jesus, you know why not.”
This time I know I can hear him grinning that cocky grin.