“He sent you to Dayton?” There wasn’t one Barrington prick I knew who would voluntarily send their precious kid to Dayton.
“Dayton is punishment. And I want out.”
Dayton is punishment for her, and life for me. And if that didn’t sum up Barrington, I didn’t know what did.
I pushed up from the chair. “I’ll bring you some weed.”
“Okay.”
Then I started toward through the kitchen, stopping at the doorway to glance back at her. “And one more thing. I let you do this, and I’ll have to get you back. I have a reputation to uphold...”
13
Drew
The door slammed closed, and I stood in the kitchen with my empty Push-Pop, wondering what in the hell I’d just agreed to.
I’d literally just prostituted myself out in exchange for his help getting expelled from Dayton. And the worst thing...I knew I probably didn’t need his help. I wanted to get expelled in part to get away from him, but I also wanted the asshole.
This was a have your cake and eat it situation.
For one night. I could have a hit, just one dose of Bellamy to cure this craving. And then I’d be gone, away from this shithole school, and I'd never have to see him again.
_____
Girls glared, cupping hands and whispering as I made my way to Nora’s locker. That two-day suspension had not been long enough away from this hell hole.
Nora glanced over her shoulder when I stopped beside her. “So, I heard you got suspended because you said you stole the tests everyone knows Bellamy took.” Her brows pulled together. “I mean, did you voluntarily do that, or did he threaten you into it or what?”
“I saw an opportunity.” I didn’t belong here, but the situation with Bellamy made things so much worse. I needed to get out of this school and away from him. But I couldn’t tell her that without hurting her feelings. “I just need to get kicked out, Nora.”
Hurt flashed across her eyes before she covered it, then she shut her locker door. “This school is shit. I'd go to Barrington if I could.”
“Speaking of getting kicked out, I’m about to start handing out weed. Wish me luck.”
Her brows lifted. “Are you getting expelled or arrested?”
“Maybe both.”
“Good luck.” Then she shoved through the hall, ducking into her classroom.
I made my way down the hall and stopped at the main intersection. My pulse steadily ticked up as I dug in my backpack for one of the tiny baggies Bellamy had given me.
Was I really trusting the guy I was in a little bit of a war with to get me out of this hellhole? Sex didn’t seem like enough of a guarantee. I glanced around at the gratified lockers, the girls glaring at me like they’d cut me given a chance.
Yeah. It absolutely was.
“Who wants some weed?” I shouted, and silence fell over the hall. “I’ve got weed!” I shook the baggie, then chucked it at one of the guys who’d stop to stare at me with a furrowed brow like I’d lost my mind. And I pretty much had.
A nervous energy wound through me as the crowd of students continued to grow, even though the whole point of this was to get caught. I had to get out of this school, out from under my dad’s stupid punishment.
The congregation of students shifted. The murmur of whispers fell to a hush as people scrambled to get out of the way. I knew it was Bellamy before I laid eyes on him. And yes, I had to do this to get away from him.
The second his gaze landed on me, his jaw set. Wolf and Hendrix moved beside him, staring, and when they started toward me, I tossed a bag at Hendrix. “Have some weed.”
“Holy. Shit.” He caught it, crammed it inside his pants, then pointed at me. “She’s giving away weed, man.”
If I hadn’t planned the whole thing out with him the night before, I’d swear the fury in Bellamy’s eyes was real.
On a smirk, he swiped a hand over his chin then stalked toward me. It wasn’t like I needed any help being drawn to all things bad, but when he looked at me like he wanted to hurt me, he made dangerous seem more than appealing.
He moved forward, and I moved backward until my spine hit one of the classroom doors. He caged me in, bringing his face in close proximity to mine. My thrumming pulse no longer had anything to do with nerves and everything to do with his warm breaths teasing my lips. “What’cha doing, baby girl?”
“Oh, you know, not dealing.” I swallowed, fighting to look anywhere but his lips. “Not taking any money.”
His chin dropped on a smile as his hand went to my thigh. “Not very smart.” His fingers teased the hem of my skirt, and I swayed toward him.
“What can I say?” I whispered, finding a little too much excitement in this. “You know I love some payback.”
“That a fact?” He angled his face like he was about to kiss me, and my breath caught in my throat.
I knew this was an act, but right now, I wasn’t acting, and I wasn’t really sure he was. “What’cha gonna do, Bellamy?”
He wrapped a hand around the back of my neck. Rubbing. Caressing. Then his hold moved around my throat, sending my heart into an elated sprint. “Bringing you to your knees, baby girl.” His lips touched mine, the taste of spearmint transferring from his mouth to mine on a heated breath. “And hard.”
I bit at my bottom lip before I did something to screw this up—like kiss him. Because enemies didn’t kiss, and I needed the reminder for myself just as much as for the audience gathered in the hallway behind us.
“What is going on out here?” A teacher shouted, clapping her hands and breaking up the crowd.
Bellamy’s fingers trailed my throat as he took one, slow step back. I held his gaze right up until the teacher’s hand landed on my arm, then hauled me toward the principal’s office.
She deposited me in front of Brown’s desk, then chucked one of the bags of weed on top of his mound of paperwork. “Weed! She was selling weed. In the hallway.”
“Actually, I was gifting it,” I said. “For medicinal purposes.”
Brown’s bushy eyebrows pulled together. “Thank you, Mrs. Tate,” he dismissed her, his narrowing gaze never leaving mine. The door clicked shut.
“Stealing tests. Giving away illegal substances.” The hinges to his chair creaked as he moved forward and clasped his hands on his desk. “Let me guess, you don’t like it here at Dayton?”
“Who does?”
“I see.” He gave a curt nod before thumbing through the files on his desk. “In that case, I guess I have no choice but to give you another two-day suspension.” He scribbled something across a paper. Two days. For distributing weed! This was insane…
“Look,” I deadpanned him. “Let’s just get this over with. I’m going to get kicked out at some point. You have a school full of reprobate kids, most of who don’t want to be here. Why not just make your life easier and expel me now?”
A sly smile pulled at his lips as he tore off my suspension notice and passed it to me. “I think it would be making your life easier, Miss Morgan. I’m used to this.”
I narrowed my eyes. Why was I surrounded by men who wanted to make my life hell? “Fine.” I snatched the piece of paper from him, then stormed out of the office.
When I rounded the corner, the stench of burning rubber hit me. A group of students stood, gathered by the entrance. Faces pressed to the glass while chatter hummed between them. Shit. Shit. Shit.
The red flames were visible through the door, bright red and reaching like fingers toward the sky as a thick, black cloud of smoke engulfed my car.
“Fucking asshole,” I said, pushing through the doors. Whispers and quiet laughter crept through the crowd of students. I stopped at the end of the walkway, annoyance lancing through my chest. I’d let him set my car on fire as his form of fake retribution, and I didn’t even get expelled. This was absolute crap.
Sirens wailed on the highway seconds before police cars and firetrucks took sharp turns into the school’s lot.
I
spent the next hour talking to the police. Of course, I could have just said I had no idea who did it, but this was high school. Everyone had enemies, and I figured if I—a Barrington girl in Dayton—couldn’t throw out at least one name, I figured it would look super suspicious. So, acting on behalf of karma, I mentioned that Nikki Wright hated me with a passion. As evidenced by the “Barrington Whore” written over my locker in Sharpie. I knew they wouldn’t do shit, but I hoped it would inconvenience her. And that little, petty bit of payback made this shit slightly more bearable.
After the cops had left, I stood by the smoldering, charred remains of my car, my fingers angrily stamping out a text to Bellamy. God, this was such bullshit.
Me: Done
Dickhead: Congratulations. I’ll pick you up at the Methodist church down the street
After walking a mile down the litter-strewn shoulder, I reached the Methodist church. Judging from the discarded syringes on the ground, this was where the druggies hung out. I lingered at the edge of the parking lot, watching the highway for Bellamy’s crappy car.
My phone vibrated in my pocket, and I pulled it out, expecting it to be him telling me he was joking about being my getaway ride and to go fuck myself, but instead, it was Nora.
Nora: So, did you get expelled?
Me: No. Suspended again.
Nora: My condolences.
Me: I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings, Nora. I didn’t mean to.
Nora: I selfishly don’t want you to leave, even though the place is an absolute shithole.
Me: I just need to get away from Bellamy.
It was almost a confession, but not quite. Everyone knew we were enemies. What she didn’t know was that hating him was the easy bit. The part that had me running, was something very far from hate.
Nora: Are you sure you haven’t fucked him? Because you sound cockstruck right now.
Me: I haven’t fucked him! And I am not cockstruck.
Nora: Maybe you should bang him. In the hallway. Or on Brown’s desk. Get him out of your system and get expelled at the same time. LOL.
Nora: I’m joking. Do not touch him. He’s gross.
Bellamy was many, many things. Hot, dirty, arrogant. Gross was not one of them.
Me: I won’t.
Until I got expelled and he collected. And why the hell the idea of that turned me on, was very, very concerning.
Bass thumped through the air seconds before Bellamy’s car barreled down the highway. He swerved off the road, tires kicking up a cloud of dust as he pulled into the lot in front of me. The door handle almost came off when I opened the door to climb into the passenger seat.
Cigarette burns scarred the cloth seats, and the only thing holding the dashboard together was strips of duct tape. The thing didn’t look safe, not to mention, I doubted Bellamy was a safe driver. This may very well be the way I died… He shifted gears. The engine made an unhealthy rattling sound, like an old chain smoke, when it took off. When he fishtailed it back onto the highway, he lowered the volume to the rap music blaring through the busted speakers.
“You aren’t allergic to latex, are you?” he laughed a little.
“We’re not fucking. I didn’t get kicked out.” I huffed. The more I thought about it, the more pissed I grew.
“What do you mean, you didn’t get kicked out? You were doling out weed—”
“Two-day suspension.”
“What the fuck?” He shifted gears again, flooring it through a red light. “You were passing out weed like Willy Wonka. How the hell did you not get expelled? What’d you do, give Brown a handjob or something?”
“No, Brown got this smug-ass look on his face, like he knows I want out.” I banged my head against the seat, staring out at the shitty town of Dayton as it whizzed past my window. “Why the hell am I surrounded by men who want to ruin my life?”
“And Jacobs didn’t argue with him?”
“Jacobs?”
I glanced at Bellamy, and he shot me a glare before taking a hard left, slinging me against the door.
“Jacobs. The cop… Don’t tell me he didn’t even call Jacobs in?”
“Uh, no. I was in his office for like, five minutes.”
“That’s bullshit.” He sped toward a red light, and I grabbed onto the door handle because I just knew he was going to run this one, too.
“You know,” I said, “you owe me now.”
Then he slammed on the brakes. My hands hit the dashboard; the seatbelt cut into my chest as the car came to a screeching halt. “You dick!”
“I do not owe you anything. It’s not my fault you didn’t get expelled for something you absolutely should’ve been expelled for. That’s on you—” His gaze dropped to my exposed thigh. “For being hot or some shit. God, my dick can’t take much more of this...”
He thought I was hot. Wait—not the point. “I let you burn my freaking car!”
“Correction. You,” he jabbed a finger toward me, “suggested I burn your car.”
Only because me handing out weed in the hall one hundred percent looked like I was trying to dick him over. And he’d made it clear he’d have to fake retaliation. Whatever. Hendrix had wanted to burn my car. The smell of piss was never coming out of the seat anyway, so he might as well set fire to it. Not like I wouldn’t get a new one with the insurance.
The light turned green, and he somehow floored his little car so fast the backend fishtailed. “You’re insane if you think I owe you.” He snorted. “I was trying to do you a favor.”
“You were trying to do your dick a favor. Now, I have two suspensions and a burned-out car. Oh, and I’ve ignored every call and text from my father ever since he heard I got fired for dealing weed.” And he was about to hear I was dealing in school. He was going to kill me. Possibly bury me in the yard…
“House so big he texts you to shout at you,” he mumbled. “Jesus…”
“You’re funny.” I groaned. “He’s totally going to come back home just to kick my ass.”
Bellamy went still, and I noticed his knuckles whiten on the steering wheel. Long seconds passed, the only sound the hum of tires over the road.
“Does he hit you?” Bellamy stared through the windshield, jaw ticcing.
I realized too late that “kick my ass” sounded bad. In Bellamy’s world, that was probably very literal. I instantly felt bad for bitching about my dad like he was some kind of monster. He’d never hurt me physically.
“No. No.” I tugged at the hem of my skirt and shook my head. “He’s just…” An uncaring asshole
“I get it,” he said, then turned the music back up.
I rested my forehead against the window and watched fast-food restaurants and pawn shops whizz past the window until they gave way to well-kept subdivisions and manicured parks. Bellamy’s car nearly stalled out when we started up the hill that led into Barrington Estates. My phone buzzed in my pocket then stopped. Then buzzed again. It had to be my dad, and I’d just wait to read those texts when I wasn’t in the car with Bellamy.
His car sputtered to a stop outside my house, and I turned to look at him, trying to ignore how good he looked one hand on the stick-shift, the other casually draped over the steering wheel.
“Well, I guess I’ll see you in two days. If I haven’t been sent to some reform school.” My phone went off again. “Or been buried under the pool deck.”
“Yeah.” His gaze flicked to my house then back to me. “Sure.”
I climbed out and went into my empty house, telling myself that Bellamy didn’t really give a shit about me or whether my dad would hit me. Because the last thing I needed was to actually like him.
14
Bellamy
Had anyone other than Drew pulled that stunt, they would have absolutely been expelled—and had to deal with Jacob’s ass. A two-day suspension? That was bullshit. Whatever crack Brown was smoking today cost me a fuck I was desperate for. And I was tempted to make his life hell for a day or two to ease the pain.
; I turned onto my street, taking a heavy breath when I spotted Dad’s truck in the drive and Arlo’s plastic kiddie pool crushed beneath the tire. The asshole had to be shitfaced already. The earlier he got drunk, the more of a dick he was, and today was not the day for this crap.
I parked behind his pickup, got out of my car, and went to the mailbox, sorting through the pile of overdue notices that came more frequently than not.
“You are the biggest asshole in the history of ever!”
I turned away from the mailbox. Nora stormed across the street, fists balled at her side. I hadn’t seen her that angry since I’d hacked off one of her pigtails in third grade.
“What the hell did I do to you?”
“You do realize she’s just trying to get expelled?”
No shit. I flipped through the mail, pretending I didn’t give a flying rat’s ass. Because I shouldn’t… “Well, she should probably try to find ways to get expelled that don’t step on my toes then.” I glanced up. “Huh?”
“You burned her car, Bellamy!”
“She was giving away weed. What else was I supposed to do, chop off her fingers?” I laughed to myself at that.
“Oh my god. You’re a dick.” She huffed, then spun around, marching back to her front door while I stood, stunned in my drive.
“She’s not a martyr, Nora!”
She flipped me a bird before slamming her door. That girl was annoying as hell. I made my way up the drive and around the house to the back porch. The second my foot hit the wooden deck, my twelve-year-old, half-blind hound dog sat up. He stretched and limped over, wagging his tail.
“Hey, Scooter.” I knelt to pet him before leading him inside through the kitchen door.
The hinges to Dad’s recliner creaked. “You better notta gotten that horseshit bourbon again, Carol,” he slurred.
The fact that he expected my mother to wait on him hand and foot when he did nothing but wallow in pools of alcohol and poker chips pissed me off. “It’s me,” I mumbled. “Not Mom.”
No Good: A Standalone Enemies to Lovers Romance Page 8
