Page 8 of Linebacker
“Hey, pretty girl,” he creeps. Coming to my side, he slides his arm across my shoulders. “Are you Cinderella, because if you are, you’ve just found your Prince Charming.”
Vomit!
“Really?” I gasp, shrugging out from his hold and scowling at him. “Is that the same pickup line you used on my cousin, Mia?”
“Mia’s cousin…” he spluttered. “Of course. It was a joke. I know who you are,” he laughs nervously. “Mia said you’d be coming tonight and well, with the description she gave me, I knew it was you.”
God, I can smell the bullshit and I bet it tastes nothing like Nutella.
“Well, Mia says she needs to talk to you.”
“Yeah?” he glances around the room to see if he can pinpoint her. “I’ll catch up with her in a bit.”
“She said it was urgent. Said something about if you didn’t go, then I had to find her friend Trudy instead,” I add trying to make it sound like it’s something he shouldn’t miss.
“Where is she?” he questions his brows bunched together. Probably worried that she going to drop a pregnancy bomb or something. He looked like he might lose his shit. Worried that I might be handling this all wrong I decide to switch tactics a little.
“She’s waiting for you in the boys’ changing rooms,” I smile salaciously. I cock my hip and top it off with a wink. “She said she had something real special for you.”
“Hey guys,” he hoots towards his mates. “I just need to go sort someone out,” he winks at them, his tongue pushing into the inside of his cheek to emphasize the message. “I’ll be back soon.”
He doesn’t acknowledge me further, not now he has the promise of getting his end away. I wait until I’m sure that he’s making his way in the right direction before I follow him at a safe distance. Once he enters the room and the door has swung closed behind him, I go to stand outside the door.
I can hear their muffled voices, and by what I can make out, Mia is already down to her underwear and waiting for him.
“Damn girl, are you that desperate for the arsehole?” I mutter under my breath before I turn to return to the hall.
The next part of the plan is all to do with timing. Unfortunately, I have to visualise in my head Mia and Bell-end getting it on so I can roughly work out when they would be in the most… compromising position. In other words, fucking. But as I get nearer to the hall, I see Trudy Baker disappearing into the female toilets. I wait a few seconds before I follow her in. By the time she comes out of the cubical and starts laboriously washing her hands like a germaphobe in a chlamydia clinic, I worry that I’m running out of time.
“Excuse me,” I interrupt once I finish reapplying my lipstick. “You’re Trudy, aren’t you?”
“Yes, so?” she said with a resting bitchface.
“Aw sorry, you might not know who I am. I’m here with one of the other members of the football team, I’m Smithy’s girlfriend.” I pick him not for any other reason than as far as I’m aware he’s not dating any of the girls in school. “He sent me in here to pass a message on to you from Alfie.”
“Ah, decided that I’m worthy of his attention now has he, after he’s been ghosting me most of the night?” she sneers. “Well, for once he will just have to wait.”
“Hey, don’t shoot me, I’m just the messenger. But according to Smithy, he’s organised something special, and he’s waiting in the boys’ changing rooms for you.”
“Jesus, the changing rooms. So not fucking romantic,” she complains but her eyes are lit up with excitement at what he could have planned. “Might as well go check out the dickhead,” she huffs out, throwing her lip gloss back into her clutch bag and snapping it closed. Another one with no manners, she tucks the bag under her arm and walks out of the bathroom without a please or thank you. Well, kiss my arse!
I follow her at a discrete distance because, hell, I sure don’t want to miss the shit show that’s about to go down. That is if my plans worked.
Before the door has closed behind her, an ear-piercing shriek travels out into the hallway. I slide up closer so I can hear it going down. Trudy’s high pitch hysteria is so distorted by her anger I can’t quite make out every word. But the gist of it is that although I hope for her to catch them fucking, my timing was out. Seems that Trudy had caught Mia sucking Bell’s cock. Not exactly what I wanted but when Bell shouts out at the top of his voice, “It’s not what it seems,” followed by “she came on to me, she wanted it,” I can’t help but grin. Crashing sounds come next, followed by a few ouches and fucks from the Bell-end himself and I’m already chalking this one up as a win. The voices inside become louder and closer to the other side of the door, so I make my retreat. Fast. But only to a place where I can continue to watch the events unfold.
Bell comes out on a sprint almost tripping over the legs of his pants that he hasn’t quite managed to pull back up. Trudy is right behind him cursing up a storm using language that is far from what you would expect to come out of such a pretty mouth. But then again, I know however much she tries to put on an air of class, she’s nothing but a prissy, pretentious princess from the local council estate. LOL!
Mia comes out next, stumbling behind them while trying to straighten out the puffy skirt of her dress. Her cheeks are red, clearly from both her embarrassment and the lipstick that has travelled from her mouth and, chances are, also damning evidence on Bell’s bell end. It’s a shame that I’m the only spectator but Capa High is no different to any other school. However much Bell will try to stifle the gossip, it will spread like herpes in a whorehouse, and for him, it will be like swimming against a tsunami.
I bring my index finger to my mouth, lick it, strike it in the air and think to myself, ‘one down, three to go’.
When I get back into the main hall, Bell and Trudy are screaming at each other in the far corner. Mars, Mia and the rest of Trudy and Bells groupies are hanging on the side-lines watching the whole thing as it unfolds. Problem is, my three remaining targets are amongst them.
The rhythm and beat of the music that’s playing is perfect, so I make my way into the centre of the dance area, which at the moment is thin on takers because they’re more interested in the Bell and Trudy show.
The only dancing that I’ve done before has been in the privacy of my bedroom. I’ll admit that I’ve stood in front of the mirror while watching Beyonce on YouTube, trying to mimic her sexy moves. Well, I need to get their attention, which one, I’m not bothered, but it’s time to shake my stuff and hope it works.
CHAPTER8
