The Masked Outcasts by Riley Waverly (free e novels txt) 📕

“Yeah,” Lucy commented and was about to push it further when someone else caught there attention. A boy had slipped and fallen in the hallway and they both strutted over to laugh and poke fun at him. I felt bad, but I needed a mask in order to stop her evil or else I’d never be able to stand up for myself.

It was just one of the many oddities about me.

***

It was after school and I had somehow managed to piss off my English teacher during our very important lesson on limericks, believe me, I was doing a favor. We were bored out of our minds and I just so happened to accidentally yell out ‘teach something fun’ and make him grow red in the face. It’s not my fault he was easily angered.

“You may go, Elizabeth.”

“Libby.” I corrected him, picking up my bag.

He grinned at me, setting down the paper he was reading, “Oh, I know, you made me mad so now I’m gonna make you mad.”

“Easier said than done, geezer,” and with that, I shot off, hearing him call out my name from behind. No doubt he’d give me hell for that tomorrow. I was almost to the main exit doors when I heard a gasp and a sputter, then a repeated thump. It was coming from the science labs, which I knew for a fact I was banned from ever since I ‘accidentally’ spilled all of the ‘highly toxic chemicals’ over Lucy’s bag. Oops.

Slowly pushing the door open, I saw what caused me to go into superhero mode. A boy was taking a beating. This boy happened to be the extremely cute jock and crush of my dreams, Troy Linden. It almost bugged me how cliché my life seemed at this point, the nobody lusting after the big, dreamy football jock whom we all knew in reality she would never achieve. Life didn’t work that way, Lucy would get him or Ruby or someone with a prettier face. Like I said, completely cliché.

Who was beating down on him shocked me even more. It was the new boy and if I knew his name, I’d insert it right about here.

“Stop!” I screeched. Both boys turned to look at me. The new boy dropped Troy and he sent a relieved look in my direction. I almost jumped for joy, I was happy if he was even in my line of sight, let alone looking my way.

“What did you say?” he growled.

“Do you not have ears? Are you Deaf?” I gasped, placing a hand to my heart. Damn my short focus, he looked even more pissed than before.

“I thought I heard the word ‘stop’ but a pretty girl like you wouldn’t be so stupid as to threaten her face by stopping the stronger, more muscular boy, now would she?” he stepped forward mockingly, his tone matching his demeanor. Mocking. Sarcastic.

“Yes she would,” I boomed in my biggest voice, which sounded like Minnie Mouse’s squeak when it compared to his bass voice. “Troy, you can go.” Without another word or even a dash of concern for myself, as I was signing up for death, he rushed out of the room and shortly after we heard the doors shut.

“You idiot,” he seethed, clenching his fists together as the knuckles grew white. His black hair was pretty good looking, I had to admit, and his brown eyes, and his lips, and basically his entire face. His hard, chiseled body was tense under the tight white t-shirt, dark washed Levi’s, and beaten down Chucks. All-in-all, I was literally screwed.

“I can’t help it if I feel that maybe not everyone deserves to die.” I took one step back and moved my bag so it was protectively sitting in front of my gut so if he tried to punch me there, he’d get a fist full of math textbook.

“Die?” he chuckled, stepping forward as I stepped back again, “Sweetheart, clearly you’ve never seen me fight. If he was gonna die, he would’ve escaped here with at least a broken arm.” I shivered internally at what he was implying he could do. I didn’t doubt his ability to break limbs, I just didn’t want to experience what it was like first hand. When he stepped forward again, I stepped back, we repeated this until I was pressed against the wall and he was using both of his arms on either side of my head like a cage, trapped there.

“I-I-I have a bus to attend,” I managed to choke out. It was true, the four p.m. bus was gonna leave pretty soon and if I didn’t catch it, my mom would kill me if she had to pick me up, because heaven forbid she actually do something kind for her daughter.

His head dipped down, nuzzling his face into my neck, “Well isn’t that a damn shame,” he murmured, I could feel his grin as I shivered aloud, which I cursed myself for because even the Hulk wouldn’t give away his ability to turn green whenever he got angry as quickly as I let out unpleasant sounds.

“Look,” I started out, placing my hands on his chest and pushing him with all my might, he wavered a few inches, but I dashed out of his hold before I could be trapped again, “I get it that you’re pissed I made you miss a good brawl, I’m sorry if I feel a bit of compassion for the human race. How ‘bout this, I don’t step in another fight and you let me catch my bus?”

He looked like he was thinking it over, but when a smirk flashed across his face, I knew I had lost the battle with more defeat than Two-Face in an all-out fist-fight with Batman. “I don’t think so…you’re a pretty interesting girl, I can’t just leave you…what is your name, oh-so graceful girl?”

I blushed and continued, “Libby Trucco, and you?”

“Xander Lysander,” he grinned, stepping forward. Making me jump back and hold my bag up so it protected my head.

“Oh my stars and garters, don’t kill me!” I cried. He started laughing loudly and strolled up to me. I almost jumped again when I felt his hands rest on my hips, slowly pulling down the bag, I saw him looking at me as if waiting for me to realize something. Looking over at the clock, I noticed it was 3:55, the front door was just a hairsbreadth away.

“What?” he asked, as if noticing my anxiousness.

“I’m so sorry.” I apologized throwing my hands up in a surrendering motion before I thought over the move I was about to make again and again.

“Wha—.”

He didn’t have time to reply before he was on the ground cupping Mini Xander in pain and I was dashing out the door.

My last words were, “See you on the flip side, Lysander!”

Hello! Hope you like this new installment, I AM TIRED, SO VERY TIRED.

Lawlz,

Riley Waverly. 

I had no shame.

I mean, I always knew that, but it really showed when I went down to our apartment lobby at six in the morning after just waking up in my favorite Deadpool pajamas. My hair was a mess, it looked like something had died in it, I was sure I had purple bags under my eyes from the lack of sleep because I wanted to finish watching the Doctor Who marathon that was running on all night—what kind of girl could pass that up without feeling guilty?—and I was completely swamped. Kind of like being wasted, only ten times worse because it’s not a vodka or Jack Daniels hangover that I’m experiencing, it’s a sleep hangover which somehow wreaks more havoc on my system than your average cake vodka bottle.

“Look at the pretty princess,” someone called from beside me, making me jump and drop the key to our mailbox. I knew that voice, I really did, but it hadn’t hit me until after I picked the key up.

“Lysander,” I nodded, opening the box and grabbing the envelope, nodding at his pants, I grinned, “How are the boys?” He grimaced as I brought up that topic of conversation and I swear he was flipping me off in his mind. Don’t ask how I knew that, superheroes just got this feeling deep in their gut, or maybe that was indigestion. I really needed to speak to a doctor soon.

“You’re a complete and utter weirdo, you know that?” he asked, nodding at my attire, which besides the short sleeved t-shirt with Deadpool on it and the boy boxer shorts with hearts stamped all over them, consisted of a pair of fox slippers. It wasn’t the fanciest thing a girl could wear to bed but it was freaking comfortable.

“Yeah, I do, I was diagnosed with weirdosity when I was seven.”

He started full out laughing.

“Hey,” I snapped, slapping his shoulder, “don’t laugh, it’s a serious disease, I’m never gonna be cured! It’s like, tragic,” I sighed dramatically, placing the front of my hand on my forehead and tipping my head back, pretending to faint.

“So I’m assuming this isn’t what you’re going to wear to school today.” He raised his eyebrows and almost looked disappointed as I confirmed his suspicions.

“Someday maybe,” I muttered, “when the Stiletto Squad isn’t out to out-female dog me to death.”

“Yeah,” he let out a breath, running a hand over his mouth, “sometimes the worst people stop us from doing the best things.” I knew that, I could relate from experience. One time I wanted to set Jeremy on fire but the step-monster told me it was dangerous and evil and, worst of all, murdering. So, I guess that dashed my ideas of seeing him run around like the lyrics from a Fall Out Boy song.

“Well, I don’t mean to be rude, but why are you here?”

“I live here, sweetheart. My sister and my mom and myself, all of us live in what is called an apartment, crazy isn’t it?”

“No,” I shook my head, “the thought of apartments was pure genius. They saved so many street hobos and other weird people from living in the colder nights of Miami, so…” I trailed off when I caught his exasperated face, “You were being sarcastic, weren’t you?”

“You know, for someone who probably has a higher GPA than my entire family combined, you’re really stupid.”

“Thanks,” I smiled, shooting him a toothy grin as I dashed back upstairs and began to change for my day.

***

Blake Richard really wasn’t a bad guy. I knew that and even Ruby knew that. So why she was letting Lucy push him around like he was a piece of nothing was beyond me.

The kid was pushed out into the world with a target on his back.

The big glasses that took up half his face, the greyish eyes, tousled brandy hair, and smaller build was just a big kick me sign in itself. He was wearing a sweater vest, a pair of black trousers, and some Chucks. Oddly enough, in my fashion sense, I think