Topping the Jock

Chapter One

NEW A.N. So, note to reader: I wrote this book when I was fairly young so I'd say it's not my best, and it's probably a product of its time for me. So if it seems childish at parts it's because I was a bit of a child when I wrote it. I wanted to edit it but the more I went into it I found myself changing too much, I didn't want to basically rewrite the book it's just too old.

As I say in the last two books of the series (all mostly unrelated with small connections between them) just take it with a pinch of salt and with the knowledge I've grown and changed as a writer.

It's chock full of witty remarks, a ton of puns, countless references to movies and books, etc. If you like things like that then you'll love this! It also has a great love/hate thing going on, which you'll probably realise in the first few lines. I hope you guys like it!

CHAPTER ONE - REMY'S DARLING P.O.V

"DON'T RUN FROM ME, RIMJOB, GET YOUR SLIMY ASS BACK HERE!"

"Fuck you, Milo!" The words flowed from my mouth like they had a thousand times before. I screamed as loudly as my lungs would let me, running along as fast as my legs would carry me, and the entire time, I was loving the rush it gave me. The rush he gave me. 

"You fucking pussy! Ugh! UGHHHHHHH! YOU BASTARDS, GET AFTER HIM! GET THE FUCK AFTER HIM AND KICK HIS SKINNY ASS!"

Meet Milo Young (i.e. Public Enemy No. 1). He was always snappy like that, turning on one of his cronies and slapping him full-force right across the cheek. I could hear the harshness of the blow from across the school yard.

His friend's face whipped straight back, furious, but even I knew he wouldn't dare attack him back. Milo Young was the ring-leader of the basketball jocks, and he owned them all.

"See you tomorrow, sweetie!" I called back enthusiastically, sending him a huge, flashy smirk from across the school yard, and sending him a regal wave like the obvious queen that I was. I was a good two hundred feet away from him too, and could out-run anyone in this entire school. There was no way he'd be able to catch up to me.

The main reason I didn't have a posse to fight my battles for me like Milo: I didn't need one. With these scrumptious runner's legs, I was impossible to catch. Feel free to try.

"Fuck you, Rimjob! I'll get you tomorrow!"

"COME BITE ME, DICK-HEAD!"

"FUCK FUCK FUCK! NO! I WILL FUCKING EAT YOU!" he screamed, his face red with anger. I loved it when he got angry - is that kinky? Yes. The answer is yes. A definite, obvious yes.

"Ta-ta, darling!" I called again, free, loving how easily I could wrile him up, knowing that only I could wrile him up that way.

"I WON'T LOSE TO SOME SNOBBY BRITISH BASTARD! GET AFTER HIM NOW, YOU FUCKING FUCKY FUCKTARD FUCKERS! ARGHHHHHHHHH!"

Milo was bouncing up and down by then, as if trying to create an earthquake with his hilariously childish stomping. He made me laugh. Besides, I always did like a man that had a way with words.

But more than anything, I knew exactly what buttons to press when it came to Milo Young. That kid was a sturdy, slim-built ball of anger. A fort of fury and pent-up rage constantly directed at Yours Truly, Remy Rutherford: Public Enemy No. 2, or, for a lack of better words, the arch nemesis of Milo Stick-Up-His-Arse Young.

Okay, so, there are a few things you need to know about me. 

1: My name is Remy. It's short for nothing. Certainly not Remington. Moving on.

2: I am the star of the Shitterton High School track team, the fastest kid in school. But guess which sport has a rivalry with the track-team, just to keep the teen-fiction stereotypes alive and well?