{Complete} Formally named The Wildcards: Book 1
A new player is about to step into play at Stem at Cardiff by the Sea's High school section. Handsome, calculating, and deadly, Asher German's here to attend in his brother's place and make Stem his n...
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♠️♥️Chapter 9♣️♦️
Reaching his next class, Asher flashes Charlie a playboy smirk before disappearing inside. Ignoring his fellow classmates, he drops into his seat barely paying attention to the teacher as she takes roll.
"German, Asher sind sie da?"
"Ja," he drolly answers.
"Was war das?" She raises a brow at him as she asks him what was that.
"Ich be da, Frau Ix."
"Gut." She gives a nod before turning to the next student on her list. "We're going to a pep rally." She tells them in German only to shift her gaze to Asher. "And you, Mr German will sit next to my T.A.."
He rolls his eyes. Like that will make me behave. I've already fucked your teacher assistant twice.
Asher sighs as the announcement to head to the gym for his class goes out. Standing, he shoulders his bag only to fall in line beside Bridgit, her senior T.A.
"Guten Tag, Asher. Bist du bereit für ein bisschen Spaß?" Good afternoon, Asher. Are you ready for some fun? Bridgit shakes her skirt ever so slightly as she says it.
"Ja, so viele Spaß." Yeah, so much fun, his words dripping with sarcasm though she knows she means another kind of fun.
Sliding into a set of bleachers near the far side of the gym, Asher pulls out his sketchbook and ignores the rest of class. He kicks his foot up on the bleacher beneath him, uncaring of the look he gets from Hilary Patricks for it as he begins to sketch. Letting his pencil freelly slide, he begins to draw a corseted dress in cream and black. The wearer stands tilted slightly forward with her dress hiked up to reveal her leg and stiletto black heels.
As his attention turns outwards, Asher shakes his head and watches Charlotte fly into the air only to be caught by her squad.
Such a strange little toy she's turning out to be.
A mechanic, a skateboarder, a damn cheerleader. Every time he places her where he thinks she belongs within his collection she hops right out and wanders off. Looking down at what he's continued to draw his lips thin at her expression within his art. Lips parted, eyes alight, as if trapped within a moment of exhilaration. Her hand reaches out to take that of someone in a suit.
And who do you reach for, little fox, I wonder. Saint-James or another?
Watching the jocks act like idiots below him only to get fawned over by the cheerleaders and other girls, Asher shakes his head. As he stands with the others and shoulders his backpack the fool behind him bumps him. Jerking around to glare at him, his sketchpad tilts out of his bag and before he can grab it Hilary Patricks attempts to take it herself. The idiot knocks it right out of his own reach, sending it flying across the end of the bleacher and to his annoyance right under the hidden door to the sports closet. Gritting his teeth, Asher narrows his eyes at her causing her to visibly pale before she bolts down the bleachers with him hot on her heels.
