UNtouched: a bay falls high novel

by Kidman, Jaxson

  “Others?”

  “Yeah. It’s how places like this function. Nobody can actually trust each other. It’s all about money. And once you have all the money you want the power. The power costs money so when you get the power you try to get more money. It never ends, Ti.”

  “And what about you?” I asked. “Money? Power?”

  “Does spoiled rich girl sound good?”

  “Works for me. As long as you’re not rotten like Blair and Vicky.”

  “Oh, those two?” Gi asked. “They’re my besties.”

  “What?” I asked.

  She laughed, throwing her head back, letting her long and beautiful curls dip into the sand.

  “I’m kidding,” she said. “I hate those whores.”

  “Yeah, me too.”

  I had a million questions to ask Gi about Barr and the others. I wanted to know more. Why it was just them three? Why there were others? And what was the deal with BFH east and west?

  Before I could ask anything, another girl came running down the beach.

  She was dressed kind of like Gi. Short shorts that were ripped up. Except hers were black with white spots on them. Like they were stained with bleach. Which made me roll my eyes. She wore some kind of thin, fancy flannel that blew in the breeze. Her hair was bright blonde and pulled up into a tight bun. Another girl that looked like she could be a model.

  She looked down at me and Gi as though we were dead fish rotting in the sand.

  “Was looking for you,” she said to Gi.

  “Sorry,” Gi said. “Met a new friend. This is Ti. Short for Tinsley.”

  I nodded. “Hey.”

  “Yeah, hi,” the girl said.

  Gi elbowed me. “Don’t mind her. She bathes with a special soap called whorish bitch and it works really well.”

  “Please,” the girl said. “Who was the one that got caught riding Cullen last weekend? You looked like some drunk girl at a country bar who thought she could handle the mechanical bull.”

  “Fuck off, Iris,” Gi said with a laugh. “The only thing lasting seven seconds was Cullen. You know he offered to buy me anything I wanted so I wouldn’t tell anyone he finished so quick?”

  “Hello new car,” the girl - Iris - said.

  I watched them talking, trying to keep up.

  It really was all about money and power. And sex. Of course that had to get thrown in there, right?

  “What about you, Ti?” Gi asked, turning her sights to me. “Crazy parties?”

  “Oh. Yeah. Always. Probably not quite like yours though.”

  “Heard you’re dirt poor,” Iris said.

  “Damn, Iris, take it easy over there,” Gi said.

  “Who told you that?” I asked.

  “Just heard it,” Iris said.

  I got to my feet. “No. Tell me who told you that.”

  “Damn,” Gi said as she scrambled to get to her feet. She got between Iris and me. “Both of you need to chill.”

  “I see I’ve touched a nerve,” Iris said. “Sorry about that, Ti.”

  “I don’t give a fuck that I’m dirt poor,” I said. “Just would like to know who’s talking about me.”

  “Why?” Iris asked. “Think you’re going to go fight someone?”

  “Dirt poor means you fight for everything you want and need,” I said. “No calling Daddy for a favor.”

  “She’s right about that,” Gi said to Iris.

  “Whatever,” Iris said. “Brando told me. And of course he heard it from one of the Rulz.”

  “Damn,” Gi said again. She looked at me with a sly grin. “I guess they’re after you now, huh?”

  “After me?” I asked. “What does that mean?”

  “Don’t scare her,” Iris said.

  “I am scared,” I blurted out. “Beth told me-”

  “Beth?” Iris asked, scoffing. “That bitch will say anything to get anything.”

  “What does that mean?” I asked again.

  “Nothing,” Gi said. “Beth likes attention. Don’t worry about her. Take what she says lightly. She’s nice. Hey. Tell you what, Ti. Come with us. We’re going to grab something to eat.”

  “Seriously?” Iris asked.

  “Bitch,” I said.

  “Takes one to know one,” Iris said.

  “Please,” I said. “Don’t give me your rich girl talk. You’ve never had a bad day in your life. Except when you lost your virginity to a cucumber and realized you ruined yourself for your football player boyfriend, right?”

  Iris curled her lip. “At least I can go buy myself a meal. Whose dick are you going to suck to get some leftovers?”

  “Maybe yours,” I said.

  “Holy shit,” Gi said. “You two. I’m going to make you kiss and be friends.”

  “I didn’t do anything,” I said.

  “Neither did I,” Iris said.

  “Thanks for the offer, Gi,” I said. “I’m heading back.”

  “It was nice to finally meet you,” Gi said. “I don’t care if you’re rich or poor. As long as you’re cool as hell, we can be friends.”

  “Is Iris cool as hell?” I asked.

  “She actually is,” Gi said.

  “I have my moments,” Iris said.

  “Maybe you can show that side someday,” I said.

  “Or just this side,” Iris said. She turned and lifted her shirt. “This is my ass. You can kiss it and watch it walk away.”

  “Oh, it’s almost as flat as your chest,” I said.

  “Whore,” Iris said.

  Gi looked at me and grinned. “You’re cool as hell.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Totally. Don’t mind Iris. She gets jealous around new people.”

  “Well, tell her not to sweat it. I won’t be here long. I’m just passing through.”

  “Why?”

  “Just… things,” I said.

  “Well, if you ever want to talk about those things, I’m here,” Gi said. “No bullshit from me. You need friends to get around in BFH. Even bitchy friends like Iris are good to have.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  Gi smiled and turned and started to run after Iris.

  I heard her yell what the fuck is your problem? and the two started to argue over me.

  I shook my head.

  I didn’t get it.

  I was dirt poor. I was the new girl. I was a nobody and a nothing.

  Yet why did it feel like everything was slowly starting to revolve around me?

  seven

  When I opened my locker there was a pack of cigarettes waiting for me.

  In the pack was one cigarette and a folded up piece of paper.

  Written on it was a clear message.

  nobody misses poor girls when they’re gone

  There was no use in me even having a lock anymore because they would keep breaking it and breaking into my locker. And that meant I could either react or ignore it. Of course the pack, the cigarette, and the note all smelled like tall, hot guy.

  Excuse me - Pres.

  Pres.

  I didn’t know what kind of name that was.

  I left the stuff in my locker and slammed it shut.

  When I turned, Vicky was right there.

  Staring at me, tilting her head side to side.

  “You look like a toy in a window,” I said. “Except dumber.”

  “What did you just say to her?” Blair asked from behind Vicky.

  “Are you deaf?” I asked Blair.

  “It’s okay, Blair,” Vicky said.

  Vicky reached into her pocket and I saw something in her hand.

  My mind told me it was a weapon.

  I jumped back and threw a punch, hitting Vicky in the lip.

  She screamed and threw her hands into the air. Yeah, I had hit her, but the way she fell back into Blair’s arms… the award goes to…

  It was a performance.

  Blair dropped to her knees and called for help as Vicky pretended to be knocked out.
/>
  “What did you do?” Beth asked me as she finally decided to show up.

  “Nothing,” I said.

  “She punched Vicky,” Blair said.

  “You punched Vicky?” Beth asked. “That’s badass.”

  I looked around the hallway and saw everyone staring at me.

  I didn’t want everyone staring at me.

  “She tried to hurt me,” I said, pointing to Vicky. “She had something in her hand. She was going to…”

  Vicky opened her hand and dropped the object.

  It wasn’t a weapon.

  It was a tampon.

  A fucking tampon.

  I sucked in a breath and felt ready to explode into tears.

  Thinking about what Gi and Iris had said… plus what Beth had told me… plus what was in my locker…

  I was on edge.

  No.

  I was over the edge.

  Hanging by two fingers.

  “Here comes Jacobson,” Beth said. “You better run.”

  I took a step but paused.

  I shook my head.

  “I don’t run,” I said. “I don’t play games.”

  “What is happening here?” Principal Jacobson yelled.

  I was ready to face whatever was going to happen.

  Then I heard Beth let out a small yell.

  As I turned my head, I felt something - someone - grab my arm and pull.

  I stumbled and was ripped from the hallway into one of the bathrooms.

  It was the girls bathroom.

  But it wasn’t a girl with their hand tight around my wrist.

  I looked up at Pres and felt his eyes trying to break me.

  The smell of his cologne attacking me the same.

  I wanted to be tough. Curl my lip. Swing and slap his face.

  “Picking more fights, sugar?” he asked.

  “I didn’t pick any fights,” I managed to finally speak. “The fights picked me.”

  “How fucking poetic,” Pres said. “Now the only question is how far would you go to get out of the trouble you’re in?”

  “Who said I’m in trouble?”

  Pres leaned down toward me. His eyes were such a rich dark brown they looked black. “I said you’re in trouble, sugar. Your eyes and mouth can’t seem to keep to themselves…” He reached down and took my right hand and lifted it. His thumb grazed over my knuckles and I winced. “And your hand. You should get some ice on this. So it doesn’t swell.”

  “Why don’t you kiss it and make it all better?” I asked.

  I wasn’t sure if that sounded tough or completely desperate.

  My cheeks burned red hot as Pres brought my hand closer to his mouth.

  Then at the last second, he cleared his throat and let a long string of spit drip from his mouth to my hand. When I tried to pull away he refused to let me go.

  His spit moved from my middle knuckle to the back of my hand.

  “I warned you, sugar,” he whispered.

  Pres walked by me and ripped the door open so hard it echoed off the tiled walls with an ear shattering thud.

  I jumped and cringed.

  I looked down at my hand and watched Pres’s spit as it retreated down my middle finger.

  “Where is Tinsley Ditkiss?” I heard Principal Jacobson’s voice yell from the hallway.

  That was followed by laughter.

  I hated my fucking name.

  And I was really starting to hate fucking BFH.

  * * *

  “You’re not where you used to live, Ti,” Claire said to me with a grin.

  “I know.”

  “You don’t need to get right down to throwing punches.”

  I nodded. “I’m sorry.”

  “No need to be sorry,” Claire said. “Not for something you believe in. Understand?”

  “Sure,” I said.

  “Why did you punch her?”

  “I thought she had a knife. Or a gun. I don’t know. The more I think about it, the crazier it sounds.”

  “But you wanted to punch her.”

  “I thought I had no choice. Her and her friend…” I shook my head. “You know what? It doesn’t matter. I already apologized.”

  Which was the most embarrassing thing ever. Sitting there in Principal Jacobson’s office, almost groveling to Vicky as she held an ice pack to her cheek. All the while Blair stood behind her, touching her eyes with a tissue saying it was such a scary thing to see.

  We agreed to let it all go, but I knew better.

  There was no letting it go.

  It was just another power play by someone at BFH.

  When the day ended, I left without a goodbye to anyone. Not Beth. Not Gi. Definitely not Iris. I got into my SUV and took off to face the music at home. Which was Claire’s house. Where I was staying as a favor.

  All these thoughts racing and colliding against one another over and over.

  “You have to remember you’re someplace new,” Claire said.

  “I’m well aware of that.”

  “You’ll be fine,” she said. “Just try to tone it down a little.”

  Her phone rang and she left the kitchen.

  A chef came walking into the kitchen. A plump man with a black goatee, he nodded to me and I left the kitchen.

  This was normal for Claire but not for me. At least not yet.

  And knowing my luck, the second I would get settled would be the second I’d have to leave.

  Unless I kept my hands to myself.

  Or kept my mouth shut.

  Or just told Claire everything. The actual truth and stories. From the second I arrived until now. Just to get her advice and her direction on things.

  I had no idea why Barr, Pres, and Kip cared so much about me. Or that I had seen Pres tossing that short guy around in the ocean. The guy wasn’t dead. What did it matter?

  I looked at my hand again.

  My knuckle was swollen.

  But it was the image of Pres spitting on my hand that stuck with me.

  It was such a babyish move. Yet it was so bold. It didn’t hurt me but damn did it bother me. Some guy spitting on me like I was nothing? Trying to intimidate me some more?

  I grabbed my phone and sat on the edge of my bed.

  I sent Beth a text.

  Why did pres grab me today?

  I couldn’t stand waiting, especially when I saw she was replying. I walked to the window and stood there, looking out to the ocean. A quiet and serene beach. And that was like my version of hell.

  My phone buzzed in my hand.

  Idk - what did he say to you?

  I sighed.

  Nothing. Just wish they would leave me alone

  Beth replied with the emoji laughing so hard it was crying.

  Then she replied.

  Good luck. I’ll help anyway I can. But you can’t get too close.

  I paced back to my bed and fell forward onto it.

  My thumbs hit the screen.

  Whatever. I’ll figure something out. See you tomorrow.

  Beth replied again.

  C u. Text later if you want.

  I didn’t reply to that.

  I shut my eyes to think and ended up falling asleep.

  When I opened my eyes it was almost three hours later.

  I jumped up and ran to the bathroom. The right side of my face was red and puffy from the imprint of the comforter on the bed. My hair was half messy too.

  I splashed cold water on my face and fixed myself up the best I could. Not that I really cared. This wasn’t a fashion show. It was home. The plan was to go get something to eat and talk to Claire. And that was a win-win for me. A fresh, home cooked meal by a chef. Score. Talk to Claire and get some info on the guys that were called the Rulz… Double score.

  The one thing about a giant house was voices didn’t carry like you think. Or maybe what I was used to. Living in such a crammed apartment with neighbors all around, you heard everything. I mean, there were times I could hear Mr. Warrington usin
g the bathroom above our bathroom. And since wing night was Wednesday down at Dukey’s, I always knew Thursday meant hearing his back end trumpet on the toilet. That’s what Mom and I called it when she was sober. We’d laugh and pretend to play the trumpet as he went to the bathroom.

  Dirt poor entertainment.

  A far cry from the entertainment I walked into as I stepped into the kitchen.

  I froze when I saw the chef standing there, working a knife so fast, it was mesmerizing. A woman stood next to him with a tray in her hand, drinks everywhere.

  And then there was a man and woman, dressed so fancy I wondered if I had slept into a different time.

  Then came Claire, in a black dress, looking stunning.

  She glided across the floor and smiled right at me. “There you are.”

  “I’m so sorry…”

  “No need,” Claire said. “Grab a drink and get something to eat. Tell Henry anything you want and he’ll get it made.”

  “Oh. Okay. I was just upstairs. I didn’t hear… I didn’t know…”

  “Tinsley, meet Mr. and Mrs. Richter,” Claire said.

  “Please, call us by our first names,” Mr. Richter said. He offered his hand to me. “I’m Sylvester and this is my wife, Cathy.”

  I felt weird shaking his hand.

  He was dressed in a fancy suit.

  He smelled nice.

  And his wife was beautiful.

  I shook her hand too.

  Something about them seemed familiar.

  Very familiar.

  Maybe they were old friends of Claire’s. Maybe I had seen them when I was younger.

  I couldn’t figure it out but it started to drive me crazy.

  “We were just talking real estate,” Claire said. “Sylvester and Cathy own half the state.”

  “Wow,” I said.

  “A lot of it is developmental stuff,” Sylvester said. “Plus, with our international assets…”

  “Oh, stop it,” Cathy said. “She’s a teenager. She doesn’t want to hear this.”

  I shrugged my shoulders. “I don’t mind. I’m poor.”

  Claire laughed. “And that’s Tinsley.”

  “What?” I asked. “Want me to pretend to be rich?”

  As soon as I said rich I heard the sound of a piano. Slow, soothing classical music.

  “Tinsley is staying with me for a little while,” Claire said. “Her mother had to relocate.”