Maxi pads adorn my locker. It's pretty unoriginal, yet I'm impressed that anyone knows where my locker is already. I'm fantastic about ignoring the stupid whispers accompanying this artwork.

"Watch out for Maxi Pad!" A football guy chortles, strolling by at a fast pace with his teammates.

"She has a heavy flow..." A girl with blond hair and pink streaks sneers with her girlfriends.

A brunette girlfriend replies, "don't get too close or she'll bleed all over you."

Sighing, I strip the maxi pads from the metal door and limp to toss them in the trash across the hall, averting my green eyes from the heavy stares. I dial in the combination and stash my plain blue Jansport bag inside, except for a notebook and pencil.

"Dude, who the hell figured out this is your locker?" Taryn slides up with a lime green binder of blank paper and two pens.

"Lucky guess," I grumble, waiting for her to apply a fresh layer of cherry gloss to her lips.

Taryn Ellsworth is the closest thing I have to a friend and my only ally in this God forsaken place. She is locked in for Valedictorian when we graduate and even though she lives in the shitty part of town, she can actually be considered normal.

Intelligent, beautiful, and a part of clubs and active in academics. Two inches taller than me, towering over the other girls at five-eight. Sunny chestnut hair chopped to bony shoulders, framing an oval-shaped face delicately. Olive skin gleams in a maroon blouse, and big brown doe eyes make her look completely innocent and adorable.

People trust Taryn with their secrets. She knows people who know people and she hears about all the goings on. I don't trust anyone, but she provides information, and never dishes anything I confide in her.

"What do you have first, dude?" Taryn and I compare schedules only to discover that we have zero classes together, "well that's just bullshit."

"Could you really expect me to be in any of your classes?"

"It would be nice to have a class with my best friend," she whines.

Sometimes our duo is accompanied by two others during lunch. Sofia Brandt and Asher Mason are nice enough, and I don't mind eating with them, I guess. Despite Taryn insisting we can trust them, I don't waste time giving them a chance. She hangs out with Asher outside of school, but Taryn is the only person I spend any real time with. I like hanging out at her house, even if my house is nicer.

I prefer putting off going home for as long as possible. I basically spent the entire summer at her house even though she was busy working and sneaking around. I only went home just to make sure Dad didn't think I died.

"I'll see you at lunch right, dude? We can make plans for after school," Taryn decides, jotting down a note on her schedule, "We can set up a schedule, so I can tutor you in your geometry class. You're good with history and biology, and I can help you with literature if you don't read the assigned book."

"I really don't care," I huff as we round a corner at a terrible limping pace.

A wall of iron muscle slams into me, and I stagger backward, dropping hard on my ass. My pencil barely misses my wrist when I land painfully on the tile and glance up into the face of the dark prince.

One of the four Ghost Riders, royalty of Pilot Rock Senior High. Shaggy black hair hangs low over shadowed eyes. Arms and torso ripple with intricately carved muscles. Almost a whole foot taller than me.

Bailey Locke. Gorgeous, unforgettable, stoic. Blue stormy eyes that see right down to your soul.

Or is that just me?

"Ouch," I whimper.

"Watch yourself, Maxi Pad," he rumbles, scowling.

"You know her name is Max," Taryn asserts bravely, flipping short hair behind a shoulder.

She kneels to grab my notebook and offers a hand. It takes a while to stumble to my feet since I can't bend my left knee well in the brace. The damn thing is bulky, strapped agonizingly tight, and only makes me more vulnerable to the elite of high school.

"Shit," I wince when it pools with pain.

"Who the fuck are you?" Bailey flicks his eyes between us.

Taryn rolls her eyes, "you know who the hell I am, Bailey. I'm Taryn Ellsworth. Your buddy Zane doesn't stand a chance passing me up for Valedictorian by the end of the year."

"What's a nerd doing hanging with Maxi Pad?" Bailey's chuckle echoes around the hall, drawing attention.

"Jesus," I grimace, seizing my notebook from Taryn, "let's just go."

"Where do you think you're going?" Bailey narrows eyes at me, "there's nowhere you can hide. The bloodhounds can sniff you a million miles away, Miss Flow."

Oh no.

Don't give me another nickname.

I peep around nervously, but students are only glimpsing at the interaction, hurrying to homeroom. The warning bell sounds and the hall starts to empty in a stampede of stomping feet.

"Then you'll have no problem finding us after class," Taryn hooks my arm and tugs me around him.

Bailey swerves, smirking, "who the fuck wants to find you? You're just a couple of freaks."

"You really shouldn't walk with me," I slip free of Taryn, "you'll be labeled a freak by association."

"I don't give a shit," Taryn halts in front of her class, "I'll see you in the cafeteria, right? You're not ditching me on the first day of school."

I peek over Taryn's shoulder to see Bailey and his girlfriend, Cassie Vincenzo, kissing. Cassie is wrapped up in the moment, saying something sweet and doesn't even notice he is distracted. His eyes are focused on me with a dark expression, hands not even touching her.

What the hell?

"Yeah, whatever," I wave at her before scurrying down the hall.

I don't usually bother attending many classes, but it's the first day of school. Slipping into class just as the tardy bell rings, someone walks in right behind me. There are only two desks empty at the back of the classroom and I take the one furthest from the teacher's desk. Unfortunately, Bailey slips into the other vacant desk, evading my gaze that I peel off him before he can see me looking.

This year is going to suck.

💀

When the bell finally rings for lunch, I make it to my locker unnoticed and throw my notebook and pencil inside. Taryn greets me at the double doors to the cafeteria and veers to the lunch line. I pay for both of us and we shuffle through picking out turkey and Swiss cheese hoagie sandwiches and plain, baked potato chips. I meander to our regular table in the far corner by the floor to ceiling windows while Taryn grabs sodas from the vending machines.

"Hey, Max," Asher is already at the table, chewing on a ham and cheddar Ciabatta roll. He scoots over to make room, "I hope we'll see you at lunch more this year."

Asher is actually a nice guy, and Taryn has a major crush on him. Up close, he doesn't actually blend in with all the other guys. He keeps his head ducked in the hallways to avoid the Ghost Riders, but most people actually like him. Asher's light brown hair falls in waves around his square face, drawing special attention to chocolate brown eyes. He smells strongly of lavender like his mom doesn't know how to measure fabric softener properly, but it works on him.

"I really doubt it," I adjust my left leg out of the way under the table.

"Where do you hideout when you aren't with us?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" I pop my bag of chips and dig into them first.

"I thought it was clear I want to know since I asked," he cocks an eyebrow.

Geez, take a hint.

"Her hiding places are secret," Taryn settles on his other side and passes a Sprite across the table.

"Thanks," I tap it open and take a deep drink.

"Where's Sofia?" Asher notices our fourth is missing.

"I saw her in line," Taryn rotates in the seat for a moment before shrugging, "maybe she went to sit with someone else."

"Does she have someone else?" I can't believe any of us have anyone but those sitting here.

Asher can sit anywhere he wants, but sits here because of the stupid rumors that he's a pill pusher. I don't really even know what it means. He's not a druggy and he doesn't sell them either, but whenever someone mutters it to him a fight breaks out. I don't think of Asher as much of a fighter except when it comes to the one rumor.

On the other hand, Sofia is nothing bad or anything special. To be completely frank, she blends in a little too well. She might be anywhere in this room and no one would notice she doesn't belong. Not sure why she chooses to sit with us at all. Sofia is quiet, kind, attends classes, and has a job that keeps her busy outside school. She doesn't waste time with partying or dating, and I'm not sure what her life consists of besides school.

"Oh shit," Asher eyes me anxiously, "you'll never guess who has her daggers trained on you, Max."

If he hadn't said her, I would have assumed Bailey was walking this way to continue the torment from this morning. I can only spin in my seat to see his girlfriend, Cassie Vincenzo, prancing this way with two henchwomen, Mallory Schlichting and Delia Hernandez.

Cassie's golden hair falls just past her shoulder blades in large ringlets she had to have slept in curlers to get. Hazel eyes scorch into me and pink pumps add two inches to her five-seven stature. I guess that makes it easier to make out with Bailey's six-four altitude.

"Look who the blood train rolled in," Cassie stops in front of me, crossing arms and shifting her buck fifteen weight onto one hip, "Maxi Pad, the whore herself. I heard how you threw yourself at my boyfriend this morning."

"She did not throw herself at him, dude," Taryn defends, but cowers behind Asher.

"He dumped you on your ass where you belong, Maxi Pad," Cassie cackles, igniting a laughter around the cafeteria, "and you best stay on the ground." She braces hands on her knees as she leans toward me, lowering her voice dangerously, "Or I will have to nail you there myself, and I won't make it pain free."

"I don't want your boyfriend," my voice quivers embarrassingly, "it was an accident, Cassie."

"Do not fucking address me like we're on the same level," Cassie straightens, fisting my hair and dragging me backwards to the tile.

Instantly, I clutch at her hands, but Mallory and Delia are faster. They take my arms and pin them to my sides, kneeling on either side of Cassie. She stands over me, straddling my legs, smirking at the knee brace. I gulp back the bile rising in my throat as she raises one foot and jams the thick heel into my knee.

Whimpering, tears slip down my face. Asher and Taryn can't do anything as the Ghost Riders close in on the transaction. Cassie is in control of the situation, but they provide a wall from the prying eyes of teachers and immobilize Taryn and Asher from trying to defend me.

"You're just a little pool of blood, Maxi Pad," Cassie hisses, spraying my face with spit, "you do not speak to me like you're one of us. I'm the fucking queen and you're the slave of a commoner."

My lips tremble and all I can do is nod. I don't want her to hurt my knee again or I will be laid up in bed for a week. Cassie releases my hair, thrusting my head back into the tile. Mallory and Delia stand up next to her like loyal lap dogs and sashay after she drives a foot into my side just to make sure I get the message.

The Ghost Riders linger in her wake. I remain on the floor, breathing heavily, and wiping the tears away. Bailey is the one to crouch down, scowling. It's just a game to them and they actually get pleasure in watching Cassie torment someone.

"You're on her radar now," Bailey grimaces, "as far as I know there's no way off it, Maxi Pad."

Infuriated, words slip out before I can think, "didn't know you needed to sick your girlfriend on me for throwing myself at you. I thought you liked it when girls beg to suck your dick."

"Are you begging to suck his dick?" Zane, the golden boy, gleefully crouches down next to Bailey.

Bailey's face contorts into rage at his comrade's question, "What the fuck, Z?"

Zane's dark chestnut hair offsets mossy green eyes, and he smells strongly of some expensive cologne. Zane is the cool guy that everyone wants to be. His family is wealthy, he's the MVP basketball player, captain of the varsity soccer team, vice president of the student body, and second in the senior class. He's the kind of guy that gets whatever the hell he wants with the snap of two fingers.

"No, no," I deflate meekly.

"No what?" Zane demands coolly.

"I don't want to suck his dick."

"Why the hell not? He's got a big fat one," another Ghost Rider kneels, raking fingers through blond windswept hair.

Connor Spears. The criminal. He's definitely not the guy you want to get caught with alone. I've never actually heard of him forcing himself on any girls, but he looks the type. Black clothes and a black leather jacket. He has some tattoos on his upper arms that are only slightly hidden beneath his plain black T-shirt. The one tattoo my eyes track to now is the thorny black bracelet on his left wrist.

"Then you suck it," I snap too brashly.

Shut up.

Connor and Zane share a loud chuckle as the bell ending lunch fills the cafeteria. The onlookers groan, knowing they'll miss the end of this torture. There is zero hope of getting out of this until they decide they're done playing. Asher hauls Taryn to her feet and they back away cautiously before fleeing with tails between their legs.

"Looks like her friends abandoned her," Riette Bradshaw declares, digging old black Nikes into the tile.

The hopeless knight as the girls call him. They all want a taste of the outcast bad boy with dark burgundy hair, yellow-green eyes, and tattooed canvas. It's a big deal to know that his name is pronounced the same as riot. Discounted clothes, used shoes, same backpack since he moved here in seventh grade. He's as muscular as any of the other guys, and easily the tallest at six-five, towering over everyone in the school. Somehow, he fits perfectly with the Ghost Riders.

"What should we do with you?" Connor contemplates amused.

"Let me go," I plead.

"Do that again," Bailey pushes forward, and his hand discovers a tuft of my hair, wrenching my head to face him.

"W-what?"

"Beg us to let you go," he snarls.

The other three chortle, standing together and watch Bailey take control of the situation. His girlfriend just handed me my ass and threatened to nail me down if I went after him, yet here he is asking me to beg.

Beg for my freedom.

Whatever is inside me that makes me lash out at Bailey, burns bright behind my navel at this cruel demand. An itch flashes through me with need and desire.

"P-please..." It's embarrassing, but the easiest way out of this awful disaster.

Bailey grins at my desperation, "I like it when you beg me, Max."

He just called me Max.

No one but my three sort-of friends call me Max. Heat swarms in my belly, catching me off guard at the wetness between my thighs.

What the hell is wrong with me?

Bailey loosens his grip, "alright then Max Sawyer. You've earned your freedom... For today." He strokes my temple with his thumb, "if you can behave, I just might harness the bitch off her warpath."

I gulp as he stands and saunters out of the cafeteria with the other Ghost Riders.

None of the guys should be drawn to hang out in the same herd, but these four are practically brothers. Zane the tycoon whose word is law. Bailey the crowned prince and too roguishly beautiful for his own good. Connor the toxic criminal, who isn't around all that much. Then there's Riette the charity case, but fucking lethal. Only one of them is tied down and all the girls are competing to convince any of the other three to commit.

It's ridiculous.

Unfortunately, I am unexpectedly in battle with the one that is unavailable. In more ways than one. I'm not the least bit prepared for the conflict it will ignite. The hormones raging inside me are insanity. No wonder everyone thinks I'm a freak.