The out-of-reach Brianne Leviantis

«The best time in the 100-meter dash belongs to Brianne Leviantis, clocking in at eleven seconds. Unless something really unexpected happens next week, she'll represent Ordrienne High at the national school athletics meet,» Professor McCrary says—a guy in his fifties who, I swear on my soul, only started teaching P.E. to watch girls in tight shorts.

Can't blame him though—watching my classmates' asses bounce, and their tits jiggle as they run, is worth all the years of study it takes to become a teacher.

But none of them even come close to Brianne.

Her tits look even bigger under that white T-shirt than under the thick hoodies she usually wears.

Her platinum-blonde hair flows perfectly as she runs, and her ass is sculpted like marble—just begging for a good smack.

I wasn't wrong the first time I saw her—her body definitely has to be the result of constant and intense training.

There's no other explanation for her insane result in the 100-meter dash.

I have to settle for a miserable second place, but only because she had the luck of running after me.

With my vampiric physical abilities, I could've easily beaten her time, but I had to hold back to avoid raising suspicion.

I limited myself to a humble 11.4 seconds—a time that in past years got me qualified for the national high school track championships without a problem.

But this time, it wasn't enough.

Oh well, whatever.

«Looks like the out-of-reach Brianne really is out of reach,» Elaine smirks.

Okay, that's actually a clever line—I'll give her that.

But it takes more than that to bring me down. After all, there are still three weeks left before the bet ends.

«Shut your mouth and open your eyes,» I simply reply.

Brianne's insane result and the record she stole from me are the perfect excuse—and I intend to strike while the iron's hot.

«Really, congrats, Brianne. That was amazing!»

I put as much energy as I can into sounding sincere.

The friendliest smile I can manage.

But...

«Thank you.»

A cold, flat, emotionless 'thank you'.

The kind that kills any attempt at small talk before it even starts.

And yet, she's not like that with the others!

She's friendly and cheerful with everyone else—I've seen her laughing and joking with people so plain I didn't even know they went to this school until I saw them with her.

What the hell is wrong with this girl?!

I'm about to walk away when she says something in that same distant tone that freezes me in place.

«Thank you... for letting me win.»

What the hell does that mean?

I don't know if I should be happier that Brianne spoke to me even though I was already leaving and the conversation seemed over... or more confused about what she just said.

«I may be a gentleman, but when it comes to competition, I don't go easy on anyone,» I reply with a cocky grin.

A desperate attempt to wipe that icy expression off her face—the one she throws at me like I'm some pile of trash.

«Yeah, I'm sure of that,» she says.

Then she walks away before I can say anything else, heading toward a group of losers from our class.

But with them she laughs and jokes. Seriously? This bitch is really starting to piss me off.

If it weren't for the bet with Elaine, I'd say she can go to hell and stay with those four losers for the rest of her life.

But damn it... doing that would mean admitting I've failed and letting Elaine win.

Look at her, grinning from ear to ear as I walk back with my tail between my legs, after another failed attempt to break the ice with Brianne.

«What the hell did you do to that girl? Are you sure you didn't accidentally screw her mom?»

Elaine might be joking, but honestly, it's not that far-fetched.

I've been hanging out in bars full of middle-aged women for years—those upscale spots where rich businessmen's wives gather to gossip over fancy drinks.

And more than half the time, I never walked out of there alone.

So maybe, without even knowing it... I fucked Brianne's mom?

There's only one way to find out.

Tail her, day and night.