Chapter One
I walk through the halls, minding my own business and not caring about the murmurs or stares around me. One thing I've learned is, "Don't give a shit to people who don't mean shit to you."
My name is Lucy Hale, and I'm eighteen, attending Primestone High in Tennessee. I moved here three years ago from California, where I lived with my mum. Dad left when I was seven, and it's been tough on my mum. She had PTSD after he left, but with treatment over the years, she's better now.
I didn't have a choice in moving; my mum thought I needed a change of environment and new friends because my old ones were bad influences. She couldn't come with me due to financial constraints, but she promised to join me soon. So far, I've hated it here. Everyone is in stupid "squads," and they don't mind their own business. I see people look my way, but I glare at them, telling them to take a hike. I reach my locker, open it, take out my journal, and head to class.
In California, people were friendly, but here, everyone looks at you like you stole their boyfriend. I won't let anyone walk over me; I'm not a doormat.
"Oof," I say, crashing to the ground. Who doesn't watch where they're going?
"Aww, does Lucy need help getting off the floor?" Natasha sneers, accompanied by her twin followers, Cassie and Claire. Cassie and I were best friends when I arrived; she was nice and sweet, unlike this monster Natasha turned her into.
Natasha Banks, saying her name makes me want to hurl. My hatred for her surpasses that of the whole school. She's the typical mean girl who picks on the weak, nerdy type. The twist is, I'm neither weak nor nerdy, so she's in for a surprise.
I smirk, standing up and dusting myself off. "Really Natasha, that's all you could do? Let me show you how it's done," I say, shoving her so hard she trips on her heels and topples to the ground, along with her so-called bimbos.
"Ooh Natasha, do you need help getting off the floor?" I sneer. "Next time you want to be a bitch, I suggest you check your outfit and that of your opponent. And you really should loosen up on the makeup; no matter how much you cake your face, you'd still be the ugliest around." I smirk and walk away, ignoring her glares and profanities.
As I enter the class, I go to my chair by the window and wait for the teacher. About fifteen minutes later, she enters with a guy. I let my eyes assess him. He's tall, good-looking, with a black leather jacket, white shirt, and black trousers. He has slightly curled blond hair and a lazy smile.
Mrs. Smith introduces him as Cole Danvers. He smirks, claiming he's from a rich family, and the class swoons. Mrs. Smith asks him to share something about himself, and he arrogantly mentions his wealth and hints at not having a girlfriend yet.
Classmates fawn over him, but I roll my eyes at their comments. Mrs. Smith starts the lesson on English grammar, and before she can explain tag questions, the bell rings. She assigns it as a project, due in three days.
In the hallway, I join the crowd heading to my locker, and as I turn, I bump into Cole, causing me to fall.
"Hello, friend," I mutter to the floor.
"Easy there, sugar. Don't want you breaking anything now, do we?" Cole drawls, reaching to help me up, flashing a smirk.
"Thanks, but I don't need your help getting up, especially since you're the reason I fell," I say tightly. I need to stop bumping into people like Natasha and cocky guys.
Cole smirks, "Well, love, I think you should be watching where you're headed, don't you?" he says, one brow raised.
"No, I don't. And FYI, I'm not your love," I retort.
"That's what they all say... love," he says, checking me out shamelessly. I clear my throat, and he looks into my eyes, "until they come begging for me."
"Sorry to burst your little bubble, but I just want you to know something," I say, inching closer, "I'm not like them." I walk away, hearing his "we'll see" as I distance myself from his arrogant presence.