Yellow Thorns (Thorns Duet #0.5) by Rina Kent

She just likes seeing me in the spotlight, I guess. She wants me to make it so we don’t give the racist pricks any chance to look down on us just because we’re of Asian heritage.

That’s the only reason I’m still part of this nightmare.

At least, I hope it is.

My footsteps are heavy at best as I shuffle through the entrance to the football field. Clear sky extends for as far as I can see and the early fall’s sun shines down on the terrain. Due to the great weather, the captain and our coach decided we’d practice our routines outside.

There’s some important home game at the end of this week between our football team, the Black Devils—stupid name, considering the only thing devilish about them is their uniforms—and their biggest rivals from New York.

The cheer squad is lined up near the sidelines because, surprise, we’re not allowed to disturb their majesties while they’re practicing. It’s already stupid that the squad exists for their benefit, but they have the nerve to treat us like we’re their whores.

Most cheerleaders either fuck or date the football players, or they look at them as if they’re Jesus in plural form.

Like me, all my female teammates are dressed in tiny black skirts that barely cover their asses and white tops streaked with black lines. The males are wearing black pants and white T-shirts. Now, if I were a man, I wouldn’t have to put my body on display, but that would mean carrying the weight of all those girls during our routines, so, on second thought, no thank you. I’d rather show my belly button and kill my breasts with tight sports bras.

Can You Feel My Heart by Bring Me The Horizon is blasting in my ears one second, and the next, it disappears when my headphones are plucked away. I’m about to stab someone when my attention falls on none other than the captain of our squad.

Reina Ellis is tall, blonde, fit, and has deep blue eyes that she’s currently judging me with. Oh, and she comes from money—not new like Mom’s, but very old and influential.

So she’s basically the whole package, as indicated by her nickname, Queen Bee, and has the personality to go with it.

She taps her foot on the ground while still holding my noise-canceling headphones—aka my saving grace—out of reach. “You’re late, Naomi.”

“No I’m not.”

She grabs my wrist that has a smart watch on it and shoves it in my face. “What time is that?”

“Fine. I’m ten minutes late. So what?”

“This is your final warning, Naomi. Be late again and I’m suspending you. Countless people wish to be in your position, and if you don’t want it, there’s no need to keep it.”

As if I care. I want to say that but bottle it inside because of—drum rolls—my mother.

Making me part of this plastic bunch was such a low blow, Mom.

Maybe she’s taking revenge because of how much I pestered her with questions about my dad while growing up.

Maybe I’ll have an emotional scar from the cheer squad and won’t be able to live my adult life sketching mangas in a dark basement.

Or maybe I’ll find my father and live happily ever after. Though, it’s a long shot for that one.

“Are you waiting for an invitation?” Reina cocks her head to where the others are watching the exchange with clear disdain—toward me, not their beloved captain.

I extend my palm. “My headphones.”

“After practice.”

“But—”

“And only if you don’t slack off.” She turns around and waltzes to the others with a gentle sway of her hips.

Awesome. Now, I actually have to make an effort.

I try not to drag my feet as I follow after her. Snickers and whispers break out among the cheerleaders at my expense. They have this wolf pack mentality where one will start the mocking sessions and the others follow.

I glare at them. “What? You have something you’re too scared to say out loud, so you prefer whispering like weak little bitches?”

“The only weak little bitch here is you, Naomi.” Brianna, the co-captain and a member of Reina’s mini-me club, points at me. “Look at your fat hips. I told you to start a diet.”

“No, thanks.” I place a hand on my hip. “And these are natural beauty. Don’t be so jealous—it shows, Bee.”

“It’s Bree!”

“Oh, my bad.” I offer a makeshift smile that only angers her further, turning her face a dark shade of red.

She actually has fair skin, but she spends a fortune to tan it, so whenever she’s angry or frustrated—usually with me, because the others are too scared of her to speak out—she looks like a volcano at the point of eruption.

The best way to kill bitches? With kindness.

Honestly, I may have never let anyone walk all over me before, but it’s these people and their constant bullying that’s made me a bitch just like them.

Wait. Does this mean I’m one of them now?

God, no. This is only temporary until I graduate. Then I’ll live in a basement and beg magazines to publish my sketches.

I only have to survive this last year and then I can chalk up the cheer squad and everyone in it to life experience.

My gaze roams around the endless haters’ faces until I find Lucy’s soft one. She grins at me discreetly, then instantly hides it, but it’s enough to paint what resembles a smile on my lips.