Bonus Scene: “Blue Ace,” a Problem Child Alternate PoV
The following is an alternate PoV for a scene from Chapter 5 that took place in Problem Child. If you’ve read Problem Child you know it is written exclusively from KC’s PoV, so I thought I’d come at one of these encounters from Lachlan’s angle.
Problem Child is Book 1 in the Blue Ivy Prep series. To read more, Mad Boys is Book 2.
Note: This scene is brought to you because of a Review Challenge. What is that? And also, please be aware that spoilers may lie ahead.
“Blue Ace”
Lachlan
“…did you see the new Kincaid’s? I would kill for a pair from the first run, but Daddy already said no. First, I have to show some ‘obvious effort,’” Payton all but rolled her eyes as she conferred with Vivian. They were locked arm-in-arm as they studied images shared on their favorite designer’s Instagram. I swore, it was like losing IQ points just listening.
“We can totally send him an update,” Vivian suggested. “You have the emergency card, just order a set and ask for forgiveness later.”
“Maybe,” Payton murmured. We’d left the dining hall earlier, mostly cause the girls wanted to gossip. Blane smirked as Payton cast me a hopeful look. “I do have a birthday coming.”
Yep, subtle. I rolled my head from side to side, easing the stiffness. I needed to get back on my regimen. The last couple of weeks had been irritating. Mom was on a tear about something and Dad had a big court case. I was ready to head back here before summer break was over.
Frankly, I liked the school better than home. Pretty sure J felt the same and fuck knew Ramsey lived, breathed, and shit this place. A flash of color in the hallway snared my attention. Was that…
“Are you kidding me?” Vivian said with an almost indignant snort. “Who sleeps in a hallway?”
“Oh, fuck,” Blane said with a laugh. “I know where she can sleep—but she wouldn’t get much rest there.” The locker room talk around the blue-haired rock star had been getting dirtier and dirtier. Not that I minded, hardly the first chick we’d all thought about fucking. The bets for who would get in her pants first would be coming soon.
Vivian glared at Blane as he eyed Kaitlin Crosse. She was the only chick in school with blue hair despite all the rules and regulations for appearance. Hardly a first, plenty of us had tattoos even if we didn’t advertise, but those were all things covered up. She wore hers out where everyone could see it.
“I swear this school is going downhill,” Payton muttered. “Rock star trash does not belong here.”
I spared her a look but she wasn’t even focused on me. She was glaring at KC where she sat on the floor next to the lecture hall door, arms wrapped around her book bag like it was some kind of teddy bear. It was—kind of sweet.
Payton stalked forward and kicked her. Classy move. Head tilted, I waited to see what the blue-haired menace would do. Thick lashes lifted to reveal a stunning pair of blue-eyes. I’d seen them in plenty of photos over the years, but there was something hypnotic about looking at them in person.
“You do know that this isn’t a park bench, right?” Payton’s shrill voice cut through the air, but I didn’t drag my attention away from those gorgeous eyes. The awareness flooding them beckoned to me.
“This is a school,” Payton continued, enunciating each word clearly, “not the back row of your low-rent concerts. You don’t just go to sleep out here. That’s what your room is for. Idiot.”
Sleep fled those eyes and they hardened. Not gonna lie, the attitude filling her expression sent a pulse of wild lust to bounce right through my system. “Bitch, our concerts have never been low-rent. I guarantee you the tickets cost more than that red whore lipstick you’re sporting.”
Not laughing took effort. She wasn’t wrong about the shade of Payton’s lipstick, then Vivian tossed her red soda all over KC. The splash of crimson was vivid against her white shirt and jacket, highlighting the outline of the lacy bra she had on underneath.
Payton laughed. It was a grating sound, but I paid less attention to her comment of “Remind me to call the janitors next time. They know better than to let the trash just lay in the halls…” than I did the way those sexy blue eyes frosted with fire. Could fire be icy and hot at the same time?
She rose to her feet, graceful and menacing as she stripped off the jacket. It gave me an even better view of her slim, athletic figure. “You really should be kinder to yourself. Calling yourself trash is a negative affirmation, no matter how accurate…”
The little jerk Payton gave almost made me laugh out loud. Fire and ice. The verbal slap landed even as the chime sounded for us to get to class. The door opened and the teacher stepped out. His gaze swept over all of us before he glanced at the Blue Ace standing there all defiant.
“Good afternoon. Are you all right, Miss Crosse?”
“I’m great,” she declared with a smile. “Just need to get cleaned up.”
“Excellent. Miss Webber,” the teacher said, snapping his attention to where Payton and Vivian were both videoing the event. Petty little shits. Still…that meant I could savor the way Ace made that red-stained shirt work for her. “You know better than to film on campus. Let’s see it…”
Too late. She’d uploaded it and gave the teacher a false, oops of a smile. I ignored Payton. If she got nailed by administration, not my problem. I did twist to track Ace’s movements as she strolled away from us. It was definitely a stroll. No anger marred her movements, it was like she couldn’t be bothered with the likes of us.
Fuck that was hot.
©️ Heather Long, 2023
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