agreed. Every day after school until it's done.”
“Like hell I am,” I blurt, trying to duck under his arm.
Church lets me go, but I don't make it far. No, the twins appear from out of freaking nowhere, hooking their arms with mine and blocking me from getting any farther down the hallway. The school’s star football player—some asswad named Eugene Mathers—saunters by, smirking. That’s who toothbrush guy from the other day was. He’s got quite the following around here, I’ve discovered. Dad acts like he’s in love with him. Ugh.
“Where on earth do you think you're going?” they ask as I narrow my eyes, gaze darting around as I search for an escape route.
“You think you can be rude to everyone because you're the headmaster's son?” Micah asks—again, no idea if this really is Micah, but it's just easier to assign a name to each twin.
“You've been rude to everyone since day one,” Tobias adds as their creepy, dark emo friend comes down the hallway.
Ranger.
Yikes.
He comes up beside the twins with his dark hair all in his face, this razored, rock star sort of look. It's got a colored streak in it, too, this royal blue color that gives him a very edgy sort of styling. Add in the eyeliner, and the dark sapphire color of his eyes, and the guy's a bit terrifying.
“You're not fucking my friend over, asshole,” he says, giving me a bit of a shove. The twins release me, if only to see me stumble.
My eyes go wide, and I bite down on the torrent of insults I'd like to throw back at this prick. Once I really get going, that Valley Girl accent will come pouring out, and it'll be game over. Loser emo-vampire douche, I think instead, spinning on my heel and marching in the opposite direction.
“Micah, Tobias,” Ranger says, and the twins are suddenly right there, grabbing onto my arms again. They haul me back and shove me into the locker, pinning me there. They're so close, their arms threatening to brush up against the bindings on my breasts. Ranger walks right up to me as Church leans against the lockers on the opposite side of the hall. “Alright, dickhead. We've been nice to you thus far, but I'm done. You've been rude to every guy at this school. Do you have a problem you want to talk about?”
“You threw me against a locker to talk?” I spit out, a slight growl in my voice. I know I'm just making more trouble for myself, but I honestly don't know what else to do. I'm being cornered, and when I get cornered, I react. “Highly doubt it. Why don't you just punch me and we'll call it even?”
The twins exchange a look over my head, and Ranger glances back at Church.
“Is he for real?” he asks, turning back to me with his sapphire eyes darkened by angry shadows. “You will help Church finish that project, or I'll kick your ass myself.”
“Then kick it because I'm not doing it.” How could I? Hiding my identity during class is hard enough, but spending hours doing one-on-one work with Church and his buddies? Not happening. “I'm going back to California soon anyway.” These last words escape me in a rush, and I hate how pathetic and whiny they sound, like I'm grasping at straws.
“Well thank fuck for that,” Ranger grinds out, grabbing me by the tie. “You're a stuck-up, insufferable asshole. It's no surprise that you grew up in California.” The jerk holding my tie has eyes that are way too pretty for such a mean face. I decide then that he's my least favorite person at that school.
I hate him.
“Shall we show him where the bathroom is?” the twins ask in unison, and Ranger nods, stepping back and releasing me, so that Micah and Tobias can drag me down the hall toward the restrooms. I'm fighting and struggling against them, but holy hell, they're freaking strong.
Micah kicks open the door and the two redheaded asswads drag me in, pushing me into the wide stall at the end of the room.
Tobias opens the lid on the toilet, and the two boys shove me to my knees. I feel like my arms might rip from their sockets. The harder I struggle, the harder they seem to hold on.
“We like MMA fights,” one of the twins says as I make a grunting sound, the muscles in my arms screaming from the effort. “Good luck breaking out of our grip.”
“I'm