*Prologue: Second Week of May*
Jagger Winegarten sat against the chain link fence surrounding the baseball field, digging his combat boots into the freshly mowed grass. Eyeliner came away on the back of his hand, wet and black. He sniffed, staring at his phone, which rang for the tenth time in the last five minutes. It was River. Of course it was River, trying to apologize for breaking up with him for Shay Foster, the future king of water polo from the next town over. Long, muscular legs from kicking around for hours and blonde hair that dried into perfect waves, Shay Foster was what every guy wanted in a college boyfriend. And wasn't it just perfect of River to dump him for Shay right before they started freshman year, leaving him the talk of Hedgewater and the loner among their mutual friends, who were really all River's buddies.
Jagger wiped the remainder of his tears on his arm, streaking black across the naked mermaid on his bicep. He sucked his bottom lip piercing into his mouth and stood.
"Fuck you, River. We'll see how your little fling works out. When it doesn't," he smiled wickedly, "I'm gonna enjoy watching you fall."
He lit a cigarette, balancing it between his lips as he adjusted his headphones over his ears. Marilyn Manson rattled his eardrums with the press of a button and he slithered between the break in the fence, stomping a boot onto the curb. No sooner had he started down the street towards his car and his phone vibrated.
Hedgewater Holmes has news for you. Do you accept?
Jagger narrowed his eyes and hit yes. A picture of himself popped up on the screen, tears falling down his cheeks and eyeliner smudged. He looked mid-sob and Jagger's blood immediately boiled.
Poor little Jagger. Got dumped by River for the water polo star. Whatever will he do? Only the summer will tell if he'll sink or swim all by himself.
Same shit, different day.
Jagger whirled around, searching the streets for anyone in sight. Only a group of pre-teen girls walked down the sidewalk. They stared at him, holding their phones. "Loser," their leader spat, giving him a once over. "No wonder he dumped your ass."
They kept walking, laughing hysterically. Jagger growled, walked to his car and threw open the door. He tossed his gear into the passenger seat, and slid in, gripping the wheel like a madman. "You fucked with the wrong guy, River." Keys in the ignition, he turned the car over and stomped on the gas, turning his music as loud as it would go.