Screw My Mate, I'm Going Lycan - Chapter 3: Chapter 3
You are reading Screw My Mate, I'm Going Lycan, Chapter 3: Chapter 3. Read more chapters of Screw My Mate, I'm Going Lycan.
I arched a brow, putting on my best shocked expression. "Seriously? Congrats, you two."
Dylan and Marcus shared a look, practically buzzing with excitement. "This is gonna be epic," Dylan said, flashing a grin.
Marcus pumped his fist. "Hell yeah. We're sticking together like glue."
I forced a smile, my stomach twisting as memories from my past life flooded back—memories where "fun" meant humiliation. At the freshman party, Amy had lied straight to my face, claiming it was a costume theme. My so-called friends Dylan and Marcus egged me on until I showed up dressed as a stripper. I begged them to let me change, but they just laughed it off. "Don't be so uptight," Marcus had said.
The second I walked in, the room erupted. Whistles, jeers, laughter—all aimed at me. My face burned as I realized I was the only idiot in a sequined thong and pasties.
Amy, the architect of my misery, stood front and center, cackling like a hyena. "Damn, Bella!" she shouted over the music, voice oozing fake sweetness. "You really know how to make an impression!"
The chants started instantly. "STRIP-PER! STRIP-PER!" The crowd took up the call, howling like wolves.
I wanted to melt into the floor. Meanwhile, Dylan and Marcus were high-fiving like they'd just won the damn lottery.
"Come on, Bella! Give us a show!" some jerk yelled, and the room lost it.
I was trapped. My legs refused to move, my lungs refused to breathe. Then some idiot grabbed the mic: "Put your hands together for our very own Bella—Queen of the Pole!"
The roar of laughter hit me like a punch. I whipped my head toward Dylan and Marcus—still laughing. "This isn't funny!" I screamed. "You were supposed to have my back!"
I bolted. No cab, no plan—just blind panic. Stumbling down dark streets in that ridiculous outfit, I barely escaped a group of drunk creeps. The aftermath left me shaking for a week, hiding in my dorm.
When Dylan and Marcus finally showed up, it wasn't to apologize.
"Way to kill the vibe, Bella," Dylan snapped. "Amy's been crying nonstop because you ruined her night."
"Oh really?" I shoved my phone in his face—Amy's Instagram post, timestamped that same night. There she was, grinning between them, cocktail in hand.
Dylan shut up fast, but Marcus jumped in. "Stop with the attitude. You made us look like backward hicks who can't take a joke."
"A joke?" My voice cracked. "Then why wasn't Amy the punchline? Why just me?"
That question haunted me for years. They never answered. Never explained why Amy got treated like royalty while I was their personal plaything.
Now, watching them fawn over her again, rage simmered in my chest. Dylan tucked Amy's hair behind her ear like she was made of glass. Marcus pulled her into a side hug.
"Amy, you okay? You're pale," Dylan murmured, all concern.
Marcus whipped out a water bottle like a damn knight with a sword. "Drink. Slowly."
I stood there, invisible. They'd never lifted a finger for me.
As I turned to leave, Dylan grabbed my wrist. "Bella. We need to talk."
Dylan and Marcus shared a look, practically buzzing with excitement. "This is gonna be epic," Dylan said, flashing a grin.
Marcus pumped his fist. "Hell yeah. We're sticking together like glue."
I forced a smile, my stomach twisting as memories from my past life flooded back—memories where "fun" meant humiliation. At the freshman party, Amy had lied straight to my face, claiming it was a costume theme. My so-called friends Dylan and Marcus egged me on until I showed up dressed as a stripper. I begged them to let me change, but they just laughed it off. "Don't be so uptight," Marcus had said.
The second I walked in, the room erupted. Whistles, jeers, laughter—all aimed at me. My face burned as I realized I was the only idiot in a sequined thong and pasties.
Amy, the architect of my misery, stood front and center, cackling like a hyena. "Damn, Bella!" she shouted over the music, voice oozing fake sweetness. "You really know how to make an impression!"
The chants started instantly. "STRIP-PER! STRIP-PER!" The crowd took up the call, howling like wolves.
I wanted to melt into the floor. Meanwhile, Dylan and Marcus were high-fiving like they'd just won the damn lottery.
"Come on, Bella! Give us a show!" some jerk yelled, and the room lost it.
I was trapped. My legs refused to move, my lungs refused to breathe. Then some idiot grabbed the mic: "Put your hands together for our very own Bella—Queen of the Pole!"
The roar of laughter hit me like a punch. I whipped my head toward Dylan and Marcus—still laughing. "This isn't funny!" I screamed. "You were supposed to have my back!"
I bolted. No cab, no plan—just blind panic. Stumbling down dark streets in that ridiculous outfit, I barely escaped a group of drunk creeps. The aftermath left me shaking for a week, hiding in my dorm.
When Dylan and Marcus finally showed up, it wasn't to apologize.
"Way to kill the vibe, Bella," Dylan snapped. "Amy's been crying nonstop because you ruined her night."
"Oh really?" I shoved my phone in his face—Amy's Instagram post, timestamped that same night. There she was, grinning between them, cocktail in hand.
Dylan shut up fast, but Marcus jumped in. "Stop with the attitude. You made us look like backward hicks who can't take a joke."
"A joke?" My voice cracked. "Then why wasn't Amy the punchline? Why just me?"
That question haunted me for years. They never answered. Never explained why Amy got treated like royalty while I was their personal plaything.
Now, watching them fawn over her again, rage simmered in my chest. Dylan tucked Amy's hair behind her ear like she was made of glass. Marcus pulled her into a side hug.
"Amy, you okay? You're pale," Dylan murmured, all concern.
Marcus whipped out a water bottle like a damn knight with a sword. "Drink. Slowly."
I stood there, invisible. They'd never lifted a finger for me.
As I turned to leave, Dylan grabbed my wrist. "Bella. We need to talk."
End of Screw My Mate, I'm Going Lycan Chapter 3. Continue reading Chapter 4 or return to Screw My Mate, I'm Going Lycan book page.