by Wendi Wilson
They could threaten me all they wanted, call me names, bully me, frame me for terrible things I never did—I could take it and give it back to them tenfold.
But those whores did not get to mess with my friends. Especially not sweet, generous Simone.
The motion of my hands slowed as my mind replayed everything they’d said. That little exchange between Charlotte and Isla struck a chord in me, and my anger fled as a sly grin turned up the corners of my mouth.
I knew what it was like to be bullied and want revenge. If I had to hazard a guess, I’d say Isla was pretty damn close to her breaking point, and all it would take was a slight nudge to send her careening over the edge.
And I would be there to offer her a lifeline, pulling her back from the brink while convincing her revenge against her enemies was sweet. And revenge against Charlotte Rutherford was even sweeter.
The Homecoming Dance was in a few days, and I was getting itchy all over thinking about Charlotte rubbing her ripe melons all over Mason. I wasn’t worried…not really, but just the thought of not being there to keep an eye on things was making me twitch.
No way was I going to show up alone, looking pathetic.
“Why don’t we just go together?”
Josh’s voice broke me out of my thoughts, and my head whipped toward him. “What?”
He moved from the chair at my desk to sit beside me on the bed and interlaced his fingers with mine.
“I know you’re thinking about the dance—again—and I can see the wheels spinning in your pretty little head. So, we should go together. You can keep an eye on Mason and that skank, and maybe I can sneak in a dance with Theo backstage.”
“You’d go with me?” I asked, my voice squeaky with emotion.
“Of course, I would,” he said, squeezing my fingers, “but only if you wear something that’ll put Charlotte the Harlot’s ripe melons to shame.”
I barked out a laugh, and threw my arms around his neck. I honestly didn’t know if going was really such a great idea, but I ignored the little voice in my head telling me it would end in disaster. If it did, I could worry about it later.
I had a dress to buy.
“Thanks, Josh,” I whispered in his ear.
“Let’s go shopping,” he said, and as he pulled back, I could see a sparkle in his eye.
“What’s that about?” I asked, waggling a finger in front of his face.
“What?” he asked, a picture of innocence.
“Don’t bullshit me, Josh. You’ve got wicked thoughts swimming in your head. I can see it all over your face.”
“Nothing so sinister, I assure you,” he swore, slapping a hand against his chest. “I just can’t wait to see you in a dress, that’s all.”
I cocked my head at him. “You saw me in a dress at my mom’s wedding. And I wore one for my Romeo and Juliet presentation with Mason last year.”
He waved my words away. “Those don’t count, and one of them was a costume. We are going to get you a real dress…something shiny and slinky. Maybe in green or purple, to make your eyes pop.”
“Oh, God. Should I be scared?”
“No way,” he said, rubbing his palms together. “You’re going to look hotter than you ever have, and Mason Bellamy isn’t going to be able to take his eyes off you.”
“Okay,” I agreed, still feeling a little nervous. “Let’s go shopping.”
15
Josh was a genius. He took me to four different stores, not letting me settle for anything less than spectacular…despite my protests that each dress was “good enough.”
And this dress was worth all the trouble. Made of black lace, it clung to all my curves from thin spaghetti straps. It bared my entire back, so Josh made me buy pasties, telling me I shouldn’t shine my headlights for everyone at the dance.
Now, slipping it on and paring it with a pair of high-heeled, strappy sandals, I felt…beautiful.
I took special care outlining my eyes in dark kohl before swiping on a thick coat of mascara. My green eyes sparkled back at me from my reflection, and I smiled back.
Mason was going to love me in this getup.
The sound of the doorbell echoed through the house, and I swiped on some bright red lipstick to complete the look. I grabbed my black clutch from the bed, threw the tube of lipstick in with my phone, and headed for the door. When I swung it open, Seth stood there with a hand raised, preparing to knock.
His mouth fell open as his eyes roamed over me, so I placed a hand on my hip and bent one knee to accentuate the long slit up the side of the skirt.
“You like?” I asked.
He snapped his mouth shut and shook his head. “Nope. No way are you leaving this house looking like that.”
I looked down at myself, then back at him with an arched brow. “And why not?”
“Nuh-uh,” he said, shaking his head again. “As your big brother, I forbid it. I don’t feel like smashing the face of every guy who looks at you wrong.”
“Oh, Seth,” I said, patting him on the cheek and laughing as I passed by him to head down the hall. “You’re cute.”
“I’m serious, Chaz. Can’t you go—I don’t know—put on a jacket, or something?” he whined as he followed me down the hall.
“You look very handsome in your suit,” I said, giving him a side-eye stare. “That is how you compliment someone.”
“This night is going to end in bloodshed,” he said, scrubbing a hand down his face as we headed down the stairs. “If I don’t punch the shit out of some guy for hitting on you, Mason will.”
“Seth, I can handle myself,” I said, wrapping my fingers around his wrist and pulling him to a halt at the base of the staircase. “I’ve proven that, haven’t I?”
“Yes,” he admitted grudgingly.
“The fact that I’m wearing this sexy-as-hell dress instead of my leather jacket doesn’t change that.”
Josh appeared in the doorway to the parlor and let out a low whistle. I smiled at him and twirled around slowly, letting him see the full effect.
“I suppose you’re to blame for this,” Seth growled at him.
“Of course, I am,” Josh shot back. “You don’t think Chaz could pull this off on her own, do you?” He walked over and took my hand, pressing his lips to the back of it. “You look lovely, my queen.”
“Thanks, Josh,” I said, sneering at Seth before casting my gaze over Josh. “You don’t look so bad yourself.”
He brushed his hands over his lapels and straightened his collar. The black tuxedo was paired with a bright red vest that came pretty damn close to matching the shade of my lipstick. Josh filled out the suit spectacularly, and I admired him for several moments while he preened under my gaze.
“Oh, honey, you look beautiful.”
I turned to see Mom coming out of the parlor behind Josh, Atticus close on her heels. She held her phone up and motioned for us to stand close together. Atticus smiled indulgently as she snapped shot after shot of me and Josh, some serious and some with funny faces or poses.
About a gazillion pictures later, she was satisfied enough to have Seth join us. He got into the spirit, posing with fists held high like he planned to knock Josh out for touching his sister. Mom and Atticus laughed, encouraging our silly antics until it was time to leave.
Seth’s humor fled as he pulled his keys from his pocket with a frown.
“I have to leave. I don’t want to be late picking up Amelia.”
My own lips turned down, and I gave him a hug. “At least Stella won’t have to watch Amelia hang all over you.”
Stella had decided to skip the dance this year, which really sucked because, as a senior, it was her last Homecoming. She told me she’d rather not pretend to enjoy herself with some random dude while watching Amelia put her hands all over Seth. It would just be too hard.
She’d invited me over, saying her parents would be at the school acting as chaperones, and I nearly accepted. While I wanted to be there to keep an eye on Charlotte
and see Mason dressed up in a tux, I knew it was going to be just as hard—if not harder—on me as it would’ve been on her.
But I’d already committed to going with Josh, and I didn’t want to let this amazing dress go to waste. At least, that’s what I told myself. In reality, I was being a glutton for punishment. I knew Charlotte was going to rub her status as Mason’s public girlfriend in my face, but I convinced myself I could handle it.
“You ready, gorgeous?” Josh asked, cocking out an elbow.
“As I’ll ever be,” I replied, slipping my arm through his.
“You two have fun,” Mom called out, and I sent her and Atticus a little wave.
After Josh helped me into the passenger seat of his Lambo, he jogged around and climbed in behind the wheel. Starting the engine, he looked over at me as he shifted the car into first gear.
“Are you ready, Chaz Miller?”
“As I’ll ever be,” I said, smiling.
He grinned back at me and slammed on the gas pedal as he slowly released the clutch, making the tires squeal as we peeled out of the driveway.
“Oops,” he said, looking back over his shoulder. “I hope I didn’t leave black marks on the driveway.”
“They’ll just match the ones I’ve left there with the Chevelle,” I said shrugging, and he chuckled.
We were mostly quiet on the drive to Everly Prep. Josh was probably thinking about Theo and how he’d have to sneak around to get a dance with him.
I was thinking about Mason and Charlotte, and how I was going to control my temper when she inevitably set out to piss me off.
“Uhm, how did I not know this school has a ballroom?”
I looked around in awe at the ceiling to floor golden streamers, the white fairy lights reflecting off every shiny surface, and round tables set with expensive linen tablecloths and fine china.
Most school held dances in their gymnasiums or even cafeterias, but not Everly Prep. No, this pretentious school had a fucking ballroom.
“All the ninth grade classes are in this wing, so you’ve had no reason to come down here,” Josh said, answering my earlier question.
Music with a thumping bass beat pumped through large speakers as students grinded against each other on the dance floor. Everyone looked amazing, making me even more glad that I’d let Josh help me find this dress.
For once, I felt like I fit right in with these people.
A prickly sensation trickled down my spine, and I looked around, feeling eyes on me. After scanning the ballroom, my gaze collided with Mason’s bright blue orbs. A smile bloomed across my face, and his gaze intensified, slowly moving down my body.
My skin burned with the heat of his stare, like I could feel the flames of his desire burning my flesh. My breath froze in my lungs, and suddenly, we were the only two people in the room.
Then a blonde head moved between us, and the spell was broken. Josh’s hand fell lightly on the small of my back as I caught my breath. I tore my eyes away from the sight of Charlotte lopping her arms around Mason’s neck as she rolled her pelvis against his.
Josh steered me toward the refreshments table, offering me a glass of pink punch. I took it unconsciously, my mind still replaying the images of Charlotte and Mason together. I lifted the crystal glass to my lips, pouring half its contents into my mouth.
I nearly spewed it out, only the thought of ruining my beautiful dress keeping my lips sealed as I swallowed it down. I took a few deep breaths through my mouth, feeling the burn of alcohol warm my insides.
“Someone spiked the punch,” I whispered to Josh, and he laughed.
“Of course, they did,” sipping from his own glass before sighing appreciatively. “That’s some top-shelf vodka, right there.”
“I didn’t know you liked to drink,” I said, taking a much smaller sip from my own glass.
He shrugged. “I don’t, usually. But desperate times call for desperate measures.”
He lifted his glass, using it to point at something over my shoulder. When I turned to look, I saw Isla grinding her ass against Theo’s crotch in the middle of the dance floor, her tits nearly popping out of her skin-tight dress as she bent over. Poor Theo looked annoyed, and even from across the ballroom, I could see him roll his eyes.
“You two will laugh about this later,” I offered, draining the rest of my drink as my eyes moved back to Mason and Charlotte.
She’d turned around as was rubbing her ass against Mason in much the same way Isla was doing to Theo. My eyes searched out Seth, who stood nearby looking miserable as Amelia danced against him in perfect sync with the other two.
Those airheads copied everything Charlotte did, making me wonder if she sent them instructional sex tapes so they could fuck exactly like her, too.
The thought made me snort, and my face felt a little tingly from the vodka. I motioned for Josh to pour me another glass. He complied with a smirk, then downed his own refill before taking my glass and setting it on the table beside his.
“Let’s dance,” he said, pulling me toward the dancefloor.
The beat was fast, the room was spinning, and the booze stripped away any inhibitions I might have had. Josh and I danced like children, having fun with no thought to appearing sexy or hot. It didn’t matter who we were, or where we were…we were simply two best friends enjoying the hell out of some good music and a decent buzz.
I caught Mason’s eye more than once, but each time I glanced away quickly to impede my baser instincts from taking control of my body. That sex-starved bitch wanted to sashay over to him, push Charlotte off the closest cliff, and hump his leg like a dog in heat.
And it didn’t help that Mason’s expression told me he wanted the exact same thing.
Feeling the need for a breather and another drink, I pulled Josh back to the refreshments table and poured us both a fresh glass of punch. Josh took a small sip of his while I chugged down my whole glass in one go.
“Woah, slow down there, queen,” he said, pulling the glass from my grip as I tried to shake the last drop from it into my mouth. “You’re going to get drunk if you keep this up.”
“That sounds like a fine plan to me,” I replied, giving him a lopsided smile.
“Okay, you’re cut off,” he said. “Let’s go get some air.”
16
My buzzing brain fought off a strong sense of disappointment as Josh and I leaned against the outer stone wall of the building. We’d been outside for at least five minutes, and Mason hadn’t come to find me.
As the cool night air dried my sweat-dampened skin, the alcohol in my system told me Mason was having fun with Charlotte and didn’t need me anymore. Despondency filled me, and I sighed, laying my head on Josh’s shoulder.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“Mason doesn’t love me anymore,” I slurred, then lifted my head and shook it to clear the cobwebs.
“Oh, my God, you’re such a lightweight,” Josh teased.
“I’m a cheap date,” I shot back, then frowned. “But I’m not cheap.”
My head felt fuzzy as I tried to put my thoughts in an order that would make sense to Josh. Apparently, I was terrible at getting my point across when I was drunk.
“He didn’t come out here to fuck—I mean find me,” I muttered.
“I think you had it right the first time,” he snarked, then moved to stand in front of me. “Chaz, you know he can’t come find or fuck you tonight. He has to be here with Charlotte for Stella’s sake, remember? Same with Theo and Isla. And Seth and Amelia.”
“I know that,” I said, irritation lacing my slurred voice. I rubbed a palm against my head and closed my eyes. “Jesus, was there something else in that punch besides vodka? I’m sloshed.”
“Let’s go back inside,” he said, wrapping a supportive arm around my shoulder. “We’ll get you some food and you’ll be good as new.”
“Oh, that sounds nice,” I mumbled as he led be back inside the building.
My stomach rumbled, remindin
g me I hadn’t eaten since breakfast. I’d wanted my stomach as flat as possible for this dress, and I was feeling really stupid for that choice as the alcohol slowed my steps, my words, and my thoughts.
“And our Homecoming Queen is…Charlotte Rutherford!”
Applause and shouts followed the announcement as Josh and I stepped back into the ballroom. Charlotte moved up onto a small stage behind the dancefloor. Headmaster Swain placed a white sash over her shoulder and a sparkling tiara on her head. Someone else gave her a bouquet of roses, and she smiled and waved at the crowd.
My lips turned down at the sight of her obviously fake thanks to the students. I’d bet my left tit she’d bullied most of them into voting for her.
Josh tried to pull me toward the buffet line, but I planted my feet and watched as Headmaster Swain stepped back up to the microphone. He cleared his throat to gain everyone’s attention, and the crowd quieted to a few whispers.
“And our Homecoming King is, of course, Mason Bellamy!”
Cheers rose up again as Mason stoically took the stage. He looked so handsome, towering over Swain as the headmaster reached up to place a silver crown on his head. I swallowed against the lump of emotion in my throat as his eyes found me, and he winked.
Gwyneth and Phin Bellamy made their way to the stage, standing behind their son and their choice for his mate. They clapped politely, satisfaction over his win practically oozing from their pores. I took a couple of halted steps toward the stage, but Josh’s hand on my elbow stopped me.
“What are you doing?” he asked. “The food’s this way.”
“I’m going to give those assholes a piece of my mind,” I said, trying to extricate myself from his grip.
“Oh no, you’re not,” he shot back, tightening his fingers.
A slow, sappy love song blared from the speakers, and I forgot all about the Bellamys as Mason led Charlotte down the steps to the middle of the dance floor. They stopped and faced each other, Mason’s hands landing lightly on her waist. Her arms looped around his neck, her fingers delving into his hair.
