Break Me (Brayshaw High) - Meagan Brandy Page 0,25

both hidden down a short hallway and out of view from the dining area—out of view from where I left Royce sitting.

Each of the guys slow when they spot us, me still half in the doorway, Royce seemingly keeping me trapped there.

Travis, a guy from school, recognizes me, his light eyes moving to Royce as he stops walking altogether.

“You good, Brielle?” he asks, his gaze shifting to mine.

Royce is sliding in front of me before I can even blink, let alone answer.

He’s slowly sliding forward, and I’m not sure Travis realizes it or not, but he’s taking wary strides back, his friends already stepping behind him. I know for sure Royce is unaware the guy isn’t asking because he cares. Travis is simply being nosy and hoping for something he can use to slam me with later.

“Is she good?” Royce gives a cocky chuckle.

Not a second later, my hand is swallowed by his large one. I’m tugged, spun, and placed before him, my back pressed into his front.

He walks us past the guys, waiting for the perfect moment to be an ass, and glances over his shoulder.

“Oh, she’s good, pretty boy,” he says smugly. “Take my word for it.”

Oh my god!

I lock my feet in place, causing his chest to bump my shoulder blades slightly.

When I tip my head back to look up at him, an arrogant-ass grin is what I’m met with.

I tear from his grip, and he’s either stuck on stupid, fully confused by my need for a quick escape, or he decides to let me get ahead as I somehow manage to stomp my way out the exit. Of course, not before Travis and his buddies get a good laugh in.

Fantastic.

The loud whack of wood against wood lets me know I’m no longer alone, but I don’t give him the satisfaction of turning around.

“Keep walkin’ away from me, and Imma start to think you’re looking for a reaction,” Royce calls, officially following behind me now.

“That’s because you’re a narcissist!”

“Oh, mini’s mad,” he mocks. “This’ll be good.”

I roll my eyes, tearing at the door handle of the car, but it’s locked.

With a huff, I spin on my heels and glare at him.

He simply stands there, five feet away, and waits.

After a solid twenty-second stare off, I throw my arms out. “What’s wrong with you?”

“Fuck’s wrong with you?” he throws right back.

“How about everything you just did.”

“What, you wanted a vanilla shake?” He raises a brash brow.

“I don’t like vanilla.”

“Me either,” he says loudly.

I flick my eyes to the sky. “I swear, you’re like... a pizza pocket. Hot on the outside, so you start eating it, but if you don’t get the timing just right, you find out it’s cold in the middle.”

His head tugs back and he gives a hard blink. “What?”

I growl and try again. “You make no sense!”

“Not seeing the problem here. I’m hot and you want a bite.”

“Not what I was saying at all.”

He throws his arms out. “Okay, Tiny Tina, what are you saying?”

“It’s like you do things without knowing why you do them, but when you stop and realize your moves, you convince yourself the reason behind it is the worst possible one your warped mind can come up with, when I’m pretty sure decency is hidden under all that swag. Somewhere deep down. Like deep, deep down.”

He licks his lips through his doubling frown. “How deep?”

My arms slap against my thighs, and I can’t help the laugh that spurts out of me.

He literally can’t help himself, poor guy. And here I thought I was master at avoiding emotions.

As I look away from him, my amusement fades, getting lost in the night around us, so I find the brightest star I can and hold on to it as I let him in on my concern. “I don’t want to give people here another reason to whisper about me.”

“Fuck ‘em.”

“Because it’s that simple.”

“It is.”

“No. It’s not. Not for normal people in normal worlds.” I look to him. “The people in this town were born here, went to the same schools their entire lives, live on the same streets. Coming into a tight-knit place like this wasn’t exactly smooth, and I didn’t have anyone with me to go through it with. You’re stirring things up for me again.”

Royce’s features tighten. “Bishop should have put them in their place a long ass time ago and none of this would be a problem.”

“But he’s not here to do that, is he?” I raise a brow. “Now, tomorrow

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