Chapter 1. Are All Jocks Morons?

8.7K 171 26
                                    

Stormie's POV

"You're kidding me?" I arched a brow.

"Sorry, cupcake, but no," Avery said and rolled his eyes. He took my duffel bag from me and slung it over his shoulder.

"Where the hell is Mason?" I asked.

"I'll explain on the way, come on," he said.

"Sure," I muttered and followed him out of the airport.

Avery's Dodge was parked out front. He threw my bag into the box of the truck.

"Damn it, Avery!" I snapped.

He turned to face me. "What?" His green eyes pierced mine.

"Are all jocks morons?" I tilted my head. My blond hair flapped in different directions from the wind. It was sunny and eighty-three degrees in Dallas, Texas.

He snorted. "I have a three-point-nine grade point average, shortie."

"It's Stormie. My laptop is in there," I said. I crossed my arms over my chest. Avery knew that I hated it when he called me shortie. I was only five feet and two inches tall, and I hated it. Mason was tall like our father, but I was short, like my mother.

He sighed and shrugged. "Sorry?"

"Wow, what a great apology," I retorted.

"And it is the only one you are getting, brat," he said. He flashed me a broad smile, showing me all of his perfect white teeth.

"Dick," I grunted. I turned away from him and climbed into the front seat of his truck. Getting into Avery's truck could be almost compared to rock climbing. I huffed when I finally got in and closed the door.

"Was that very difficult for you, shortie?" he chuckled and wiggled his eyebrows.

Most girls would have swooned at Avery for wiggling his eyebrows like that. Then there was me, the one girl who knew every real side to him. Avery Prince, my brother's best friend, was an asshole.

"Shut up and drive," I muttered.

"'Cause it's zero to sixty in three-point-five! Baby, you got the keys! Now shut up and drive, drive, drive!" Avery shrieked.

"Don't quit your day job, buddy," I said. "Your singing sucks." I knew he wasn't trying to sing. He was shrieking to annoy me, and it sounded horrid.

"Like you can do better," he challenged.

"You'll never know," I said and smirked.

He laughed. "I've heard you singing in the shower."

"You're so full of shit, Avery. I don't sing in the shower," I said and rolled my eyes. I rolled the window down.

He rolled my window back up from his side.

"Ugh, seriously?" I spat. "It's hot in here."

"That's because I'm in here," he said and smiled.

"Yuck," I muttered.

He reached over and turned the air conditioner on high. "What is the point of having AC, if one doesn't use it?"

"Why the hell didn't Mason come to get me?"

"Your mother is working," he started.

"What else is new?" I snorted. "It wasn't my mother that I asked about."

He rolled his eyes. "If you would let me finish," he muttered. "Your brother sprained his ankle yesterday. They said it would take about four weeks to heal. He can't drive."

Maybe Just One MoreWhere stories live. Discover now