I don’t regret it, some people would say that I was just another girl that Reagan conquered. One of many, but I would say that our drunken sex was more than that. I had practically drooled and wiped my snot on his t-shirt for the past two years every time some asshole decided to dump the blonde. The reason for that was, while I would do almost anything with a boy, I never went all the way, which was why I practically had dated half of Liston Highs Private population and if I was honest with myself, a good section of Liston Public too.
I was what majority would call the slut of Liston High Private and I wore it with pride. Being head cheerleader the football team relied on me to keep the bitches under control. And by doing that I had to have the reputation to match. So what if they chose to believe that I fucked anything with three legs, as long as it got them putty in my hands who the hell cared..
I was Dainy Hallow after all. The girls in school either feared me or wanted to be me. Unlike the rest of them including my brother, I didn’t need the fancy surname, I held all the important titles, head cheerleader, A grade student, and your worst nightmare if you ever dared to cross me. I was also best friend to Victoria Stone and Sienna Bray and while they may not attend Liston Private this year because Victoria aka Rae was forced to join her brother in public and where she goes Sienna follows, they are still part of the Elite in our Suburb, Liston Hills and the sisters of Kylie Bray.
Kylie ruled the school from the first day she stepped foot on Liston high private. Even the male population cowered under her gaze, people lowered their heads and her best friend Dakota, who was rumored to be a science genius and princess of the Sin riders mc made sure that they never forgot who was in charge. I was fortunate to see her good side. The one she kept reserved for her close friends and family.
“I’m not sure what’s going on between Reagan and me, but If he’s already on the prowl that should answer your question.”
The muttered “fuck” behind me doesn’t improve my mood when I get off the phone. Standing up I turn to face my brother who’s unceremoniously rubbing his hair with a small towel while attempting to button his jeans with his free hand.
“You got any of that hair wax you got from Milan, mines finished.”
Shrugging, I smirk knowing how this is gonna play out, “You gonna loan me your jeep this weekend?”