by Eden Beck
He’s one of Astor’s less friendly minions. Unlike Astor, he doesn’t have a secret soft side. He’s all hard edges and cruel jokes.
“Oh look, it’s the druggie. They didn’t send you to rehab?”
I take a couple steps back and evaluate whether or not I can just walk by him … but I took the back staircase and it’s too narrow. I took this on purpose to try and avoid running into anyone, but I guess this now defeats the purpose.
“Come on Chris, let me pass.” I look past him and try to walk forward, but he just juts out and arm and stops me in my tracks.
“I don’t think so. Not until I’m finished with you.”
Chris slaps the top of my books with the palm of his hand, knocking them out of my arms with a thunderous sound as they slam onto the concrete floor. Before I can start to recover from the shock, he’s grabbed me by each of my shoulders and shoved me up against a wall.
My voice doesn’t seem to be working. I was just trying to get to class. This isn’t the first time Chris has tried to haze me, doubtless under Astor’s orders, but it was always small things before. And it was never physical.
He draws one arm across my throat so his forearm presses against my windpipe. His free hand bats mine away and reaches down to grope my breasts. I start to struggle, but he just pushes harder on my throat and I can’t breathe.
His hand moves feverishly down to the top of my skirt and starts untucking my shirt so he can shove his hand up it. I try to push him off me again, but he presses hard enough it feels like my windpipe is about to collapse.
His hand is up my shirt, trying to wheedle its way into my bra when he’s yanked backward so hard he nearly falls on his ass. I slump forward, my hands flying up to my neck as I gasp for air. It burns and stings on the way down to my lungs. I finally glance up, my breath slowly returning to me, and I see it’s Astor holding him by the collar of his shirt.
Never before have I seen rage like that in a man’s eyes.
“Hardy! Don’t you dare lay a hand on her again. Get up, get on your feet. Now!”
Chris stands up in total shock; his face red as he looks at Astor in confusion. I can almost see a puppy misunderstanding its master before me.
Astor isn’t done. He lunges forward, this time grabbing Chris by the front of his shirt. Both boys are big, but Astor has a certain authority about him that makes him fill the whole room. “You’re lucky it was me that caught you. Blair probably wouldn’t let you live.”
He holds him there for a second longer, then lets him go to stumble back again.
“You walk over to her right now and apologize, and it better be genuine, or I will hang your ass from the flagpole myself, right now.”
Chris comes straight for me and I can see him trembling. He glances at Astor, and then back at me. I’m glad I’m not the only one completely terrified of him.
“I’m sorry,” he says, “I didn’t know you were untouchable. It won’t happen again.”
I can’t quite find my voice right away, I’m so surprised. Untouchable. That’s what I’ve always considered the boys … but now Chris is using it to describe me.
It’s more than that, though. Astor, Wills, and Blair have never made anyone apologize to me before. They’ve always been the ones instigating the torture, from themselves and from all of their followers. It’s why Chris thought it was okay to give me hell in the first place. He’s been trained to do it.
“I’m not about to forgive you,” I say. “And Blair isn’t the only one who’s going to kill you if you try that again.”
Astor tells him to get the fuck out, and when he says it there’ hellfire in his eyes.
Chris practically evaporates out of the hallway. The silence that follows is deafening, broken only by the sound of my own shaking body. If Astor hadn’t showed up just then, I don’t know what would have happened.
He’s thinking the same thing.
“Are you alright?”
“No, I’m fucking not.” I cover my face in my shaking hands, and suddenly his arms are around me. He doesn’t kiss me. He doesn’t proclaim undying feelings, or press me to see if I’m on the verge of mental collapse. He just holds me.
“No one will ever touch you again, do you hear me.”
I nod, but that’s not enough. He draws back a bit and forces my face up to look at him.
“I need you to know that you’re safe here. With me.”
I search his face, and I see no malice there, no ill-will. He’s serious.
I nod.
He rubs his hand lightly over my back and then jogs up the stairs after Chris … doubtless for a little private conversation about what just happened. What almost happened.
I get out of here as fast as possible.
I should be more upset, more shaken than I am. I’ve been roughed up before, but this time is different. This time … I don’t leave feeling scared and alone. I feel … safe.
Something changed the night of the party. Maybe it started before, but it definitely came to a head when I nearly died from alcohol poisoning.
For the first time here, I feel safe. And it’s all because of Astor. And Wills and Blair.
Who would have ever thought?
Chapter 20
I’m still a little wary at first, but the boys don’t immediately revert to their old ways. It’s like they’ve been possessed by decent men; better men who want to protect me, not harm me. If I could, I’d still keep them at arm’s length for a while, but they aren’t having any of it.
Astor’s warning to Chris spreads fast. His influence changes everything for me. Suddenly, my things stop disappearing from my backpack, the water in the showers always stays hot, my laundry shows up folded instead of half missing and the other half bleached, and every Friday morning Thomas is waiting outside my room with a bouquet of roses. The fact that they look just like the ones that got knocked over during the argand lamp incident is not lost on me.
Irony, thy name is teen guilt.
The most marked change, however, might be the fall of Victoria.
There is no forgiveness for her actions, not when Astor holds the iron grip over the school.
One moment she’s the queen bee, the most popular girl on campus—even more than any of the seniors. The next, I only seem to spot her sitting alone beside the trash cans at lunch or squeezed into the very front row of desks during class with her face frozen forward and silent.
She doesn’t look at me, she doesn’t speak to me. There’s no apology, no get-well-soon card … nothing.
Otherwise, I might have tried to help her. After all, she did take me under her wing when I first got here. Sure, nearly every event she invited to ended in my being humiliated in some way. And sure, she lied about what was in the punch … but she didn’t know I had good reason not to drink.
It’s not pretty to watch a star burn out; a glittering diamond one moment, a social pariah the next.
Maybe that’s why it comes as something of a shock when she corners me in the bathroom the morning we’re set to leave for Thanksgiving break. One minute I have my face in the sink, the next I look up and she’s standing over my shoulder looking back at me in the mirror like some demon in a horror flick.
It’s no wonder I shriek.
“My god, Victoria, don’t sneak up on people like that.”
She just stares at me for a moment, waiting for me to turn off the tap and turn around to face her.
“How long are you going to keep this up?” she asks.
It takes me a second to find the words to respond. “Sorry, what?”
She arches an eyebrow at me. I can’t help but notice that something about her even looks different. Dark circles peek out beneath two layers of concealer. Her hair isn’t as shiny as it once was. Unless I’m mistaken, her skirt’s gotten just a little too tight. I guess Queen has learned what it means to eat your feelings.
“I want to know when you’re going to stop acting like the victim here,” she says. “We both know y
ou knew there was alcohol in the punch. No one’s that stupid.”
“Wow.” I ball up the paper towels in my hand and slam them into the trash. “You know Victoria, I actually felt bad for you this whole time. All I wanted was an apology … but this is low, even for you.”
I whirl on my heel, ready to storm out of there, but she catches me by the sleeve. I’m ready to shake her off, but her nails dig into me and keep me here. She holds her other hand out to me and waves a chipped, broken set of acrylic nails in my face.
“Do you see what they’re doing to me?” she says, her voice choking back emotion. “They’re bullying me.”
I shake myself free and turn back to face her. “You mean like they bullied me?”
She purses her lips. “That was different.”
“Was it?”
I’m about to go again, but Victoria lunges forward and grabs my arm again. Her other hand flies up to cover her mouth as she chokes out a sob.
“Wait!” She lets go of me but takes a moment to compose herself. I can see an inner struggle going on. “I’m sorry,” she says, finally. “I can handle being blacklisted. I can handle being ignored. But Please, Sadie, for the love of god … call them off.”
I don’t believe her apology is genuine. I don’t think she really believes she did anything wrong. But I look at her, pitiful, groveling, and I know the pain of being unable to walk from one class to the next without one of Astor’s boys trying to knock the books from your arms or the very wind from your lungs.
She sees me thinking, and she blurts out, “I just thought it might be more fun for you if you … you know … had a little punch. That’s all. I wouldn’t have done it if I’d known you were on drugs. I promise.”
She makes it sound like I was strung out on heroine.
But still …
I press my hands to my face and let out a sigh. “I think you know this has nothing to do with me,” I say, looking back up. “But I’ll see what I can do.”
Astor can tell something’s up the moment I get to English Lit. He leans across the aisle and stretches one arm across the back of my chair. Where before he would have been careful not to touch me, he lets one hand trace circles around the slope of my shoulder as he asks me what’s wrong. It doesn’t matter if Mr. Davis sees anymore. Like Chris so rightly put it that day, I’m untouchable now.
His brush makes my skin tingle, but I just subtly shake my head and glance towards Victoria seated at the front of class.
“Later.”
I whisper for him and the boys to meet me at the boathouse for lunch, and then dive back into my studies.
Wills and I walk down to the boathouse together after math. His arm is around my waist, and every time we walk over a knotted root in the grass he likes to pick me up a little so I don’t trip over it. The way his fingers dig into my ribs tickles, so I’m red faced from laughter by the time we meet the other boys sprawled out on the floor inside.
I wriggle out of Will’s arms and peel my coat off to leave it on the floor. One of them had the good sense to crank up the heat in here now that it’s getting so cold outside. We only have a few more days of active sailing left before we have to spend the rest of our class indoors, reading about boats instead of actually sailing them.
Wills has gone to the window, and I know he’s thinking about the same thing. I’m going to miss what sailing class has become lately; little dates out on the water with nothing but the bobbing ocean beneath us and hot totties smuggled in thermoses.
Blair jumps up and gives me a quick kiss before helping me down onto the piles of old sails he’s arranged as a sort of cushion.
I’ve barely sat down before Astor’s turned his sharp eyes on me. “If this is about forgiving Victoria, you can forget it. What she did to you …”
“I know,” I say. “It was awful. But hear me out,” I glance at Wills, and then Blair. “I just want to know if you three have been, um, calling out some kind of strike on her.”
The way they refuse to look at one another tells me everything I need to know.
“Well, it needs to end now,” I say. “Let her wallow … but don’t torture her. Even she doesn’t deserve that.”
“I’m not sure I agree,” Blair says, sitting down beside me. He sprawls his long legs out in a tangle with mine. “But if that’s what you want Bunny …”
He looks to Astor. We all do.
He shifts his weight on the pile of sails beside me, but he keeps his eyes trained forward at some invisible point on the wall in front of him. His jaw works, that little muscle bulging in his cheek as he considers what I’ve asked.
It’s only now that I realize I’ve never asked Astor for anything before. Any of them.
I shrug Blair’s arm from my shoulder and move to straddle Astor across the thighs. At first he tenses at my touch, but then his arms reach up to grasp me at my waist and we melt into one another.
“Come on,” I say, my voice dropping low and honey-sweet. “I never ask for anything. Give me this, at least.”
His lips soften from a hard line as his eyes drop momentarily to mine. He’s not generous with his kisses like Wills and Blair, but when he does, it’s hard and intense—like a surge of power.
“It’s a big ask, Sadie,” he says, quietly.
“Is it though?” I brush back a stray lock of hair from his forehead. His hair has grown out some since his last cut. It softens him a bit, or maybe I just know him better now. I lean in closer, my eyes locking onto his. “Just let her be. She’s already lost enough, don’t you think?”
“She almost cost you your life,” he snaps. “She can never lose enough.”
I lean away from him, and I feel his grip tighten on my waist as if he’s afraid to let me go. I take advantage of this.
“Then do it for me,” I say. “I know you don’t like it … but it’s what I want.”
Wills whistles low. “She drives a hard bargain, eh Astor?”
Blair’s eyes trace my body in a long, explicit way. “I couldn’t resist anything you say, Bunny, if you were straddling me like that.”
Heat rises in my cheeks, but I don’t budge from where I sit. I feel Astor’s body stiffen beneath me, and I mean that in more than one way.
“Fine,” he says, at last. “But I don’t like her. I never have.”
“Perfect,” I purr. I lean in for a kiss, but hold off at the last second, and then draw away. “Now if you boys will excuse me …”
I hop up, quickly pulling my skirt down a bit so I don’t flash them entirely and grab one of the hot sandwiches the boys brought along with them on a tray.
“I have to get going, Dana’s family is picking us up any minute now.”
Both Blair and Astor get hurriedly to their feet. Astor shifts his weight uncomfortably, and it takes all my resolve not to draw any attention to the unmistakable bulge in his pants.
“That’s early,” Wills says with a frown. “I didn’t think you were leaving until tomorrow.”
“Me either,” I say, “But they decided to come down today instead … something about reservations that got moved up.” I glance over at Astor. “I’m sure there won’t be any trouble with me missing a couple classes, will there?”
A sly smile creases the corner of his mouth. “I don’t believe there will,” he says.
“Are you sure I can’t convince you to stay with me instead?” Blair asks for the millionth time.
I just shake my head.
“I need this time with Dana. I haven’t had any time for her in weeks. You boys take a lot of work, you know,” I say. I plant a quick kiss on each of them—though Blair turns it into a dramatic, sweeping snog—and run up and back up to the dorms before one of them actually does manage to convince me to change my plans.
Thank god Dana invited me to stay with her over Thanksgiving. I still have to work something out for Christmas break, but I’m just taking things one at a time right now. Though the way the boys have been acting lately, I’m feeling pretty con
fident that I’ll be able to stay with one of them if I play my cards right.
I stop by the office on my way back to the room to make a quick … withdrawal. I almost fainted the first time I walked in and asked for five hundred dollars in cash. I was sure they’d refuse me, or worse, try to contact my parents, but it was given to me without so much as a batted eyelash. It surprised me how easy it was. Too easy.
So easy that the guilt of it ebbed faster than it should. It’s become just one more thing to add to my ever-growing list of lies keeping me here at the academy.
I walk by Victoria on the way back to grab my things. It’s a little odd. I don’t usually see her this far down the hall since her room is the very first one by the stairs. She doesn’t look at me, but something about the way she quickens her step as soon as she spots me makes me even more suspicious.
As soon as I open the door, Dana shoots up from the edge of her bed.
I stop, one handle on the door, and take a quick glance down the hall as Victoria disappears into her own room.
“Were you … hanging out with Victoria, just now?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Dana says, quickly busying herself by organizing a stack of already organized papers.
“Right.” I shut the door behind me and take a cautious look around. Nothing seems to be missing or defaced … which is the only reason I can imagine she’d be in here in the first place.
I decide not to push the issue. Of course, I don’t trust Victoria … but the last thing I’m going to do is interrogate Dana about it right now. I’ll let her have a little moment, but we’ll have to talk about it when we come back from break.
Because if Victoria is suddenly noticing Dana, it’s not because she’s realized what a genuine, caring person she is. It’s because she’s planning something.
I don’t have time to think on it long. Dana’s parents arrive early and we’re whisked off away from the school, and away from all the problems of the last semester. At least for a little while.
Chapter 21
