by L. E. Bross
He’s doing it to find a weakness to exploit, not because he wants to know me.
“Bullshit. They never mentioned a scholarship. Our mother would have told us.”
He looks away quickly, but not before I see a flash of guilt. When he lifts his gaze it’s gone, but I know what I saw. But when he sees me searching, the asshole version of him resurfaces and I brace myself.
“I guess you do look like you’re homeless.” A cruel glint flickers to life. “Skin and bones really. No curves. You kind of look like a malnourished boy. Especially with your hair like that.” He flicks his finger over a piece that’s sticking up before moving away like he can’t stand to be near me anymore. “Was that your goal? Do you really want to be a boy? Is that it?”
“Fuck you,” I grind out.
He has no right to comment on how I look. It’s more of a sore spot than I’ll ever admit. I know I’m too fucking skinny, that’s what happens when you barely eat. When the people who’re supposed to love and care for you forget you exist most of the time.
And my hair. He has no idea what it’s like to be caught and dragged around by the very thing that’s supposed to make you more attractive. Tears burn the back of my eyes and I grit my teeth to keep them from falling.
This is who I am now.
So just fuck. Him.
He wants to hurt me? I’ll flay him in return.
“I lied,” I spit out. “Peter brought me here because I fucked him that good.”
Fury washes over Riot’s face but I’m done with him. I’m almost at the door when a thunderous crash echoes around me, followed by a roar. Pride flees with my nerves and I dart out the door, running until I am safely inside my room with the door locked.
Only then do I sink down, my back against the door, and think about what I just said. I should leave. I drop my face to my hands and scrub them until the friction hurts. My fingers trip over my scar.
“Fuck,” I grit out.
Panic tears at my insides. The walls close in and I feel like I’m suffocating. Ironically in a house the size of a museum. I need air and space to think and discover the balcony Hanna mentioned. There’s a low chair with a small table next to it, so I sink down with a long exhale.
What the fuck am I doing?
All I want is to find my sister.
I scrub at the tears covering my cheeks, then tense as I hear a garage door opening. Through the branches, I see Riot push one of the bikes out onto the driveway. I sink down lower even though I’m pretty sure he can’t see me.
I shouldn’t have bothered. He doesn’t even look my way as he climbs on and starts the bike. Guilt wells up when I think about what I said to him. His mother disappeared and I said I was fucking his father.
Christ, I don’t know why I did that.
No, that’s not true, I lashed out because he hurt me, but it wasn’t fair to him. Riot revs the bike a few times, then starts rolling forward, but instead of going down the driveway, he turns into the trees and all I hear is the fading sound of the bike.
Once again, I’m surrounded by silence that’s so loud, it’s deafening.
I pull into the parking lot of a new school after a restless night's sleep. Unfortunately, this is where I have to be in order to keep my end of the bargain with Peter.
Riot didn’t come back until well after midnight and until I heard him pass by my door, I couldn’t sleep. I felt so guilty for what I said. I half hoped that he’d barge into my room so I could apologize, but he didn’t.
The alarm on my phone went off much too soon.
The guys were gone when I stumbled into the kitchen and I was too nervous to eat much more than an apple. I did fill a to-go cup with coffee before I grabbed my schedule and left.
I’m going to need the caffeine to get through this.
The one bright spot to my morning was getting to drive this sweet car.
I caress the steering wheel of the sporty convertible one last time before I look up at the sprawling campus that is Neverly Prep. It looks more like a college campus, with three stately white brick buildings and tree-lined paths between them. A tower juts up from the one in the center and there’s a huge clock at the top.
Everywhere I look, I see Stepford children. And I can’t believe that schools still dress teenage girls up in plaid skirts. I thought it was a myth perpetuated in teen movies.
There’d be a hell of a lot less sexualization if they just let girls wear street clothes.
I get out and smooth down the front of my skirt. It’s black plaid, the pattern so subtle that it looks like a solid color until you get close. The white blouse with thin black vertical stripes has these cap sleeves that flutter and there’s a black silk scarf that I had no idea how to tie so I draped it around my neck. Looking around, I can see that the correct way to wear it is up for interpretation.
Black thigh-high stockings—yes, fucking thigh highs like strippers wear—hug my legs but thank god footwear is open. I have on my knee-high laced black boots because I need something to remind me who I am.
I grab the leather backpack out of the passenger seat, careful not to bend over too much. I’ve already clocked over a dozen curious stares aimed my way and they get worse the closer I get to the doors of the main building.
I try not to shrink under the weight. I hid my scar behind several layers of foundation and a dusting of powder, and checked myself from every angle before I left the bathroom this morning just to be sure.
I can’t even believe I’m back at school.
The low rumble of a barely legal exhaust makes the ground vibrate and I know without turning it’s the Hellcat that was in Peter’s garage. Sure enough, a glance over my shoulder shows the black muscle car gliding into a spot along the front row.
No one else parked there, so I’d bet it belongs to Riot.
I roll my eyes and walk toward the school. Privilege at its finest. I follow the path to the front entrance and stop in front of a huge bronze statue of a crocodile reared up on its hind legs. I’m almost sure they can’t do that in real life.
“Ever?”
I turn and see a petite redhead standing there, then nod when she looks a little uncertain.
“I’m Merideth Henley, but you can call me Meri. I’ll be your student guide today. So…” She spreads her arms wide. “Welcome to Neverly Prep.”
Her smile is genuine and I let out the breath I was holding, then glance back at the ten foot tall statue.
“That’s Charlie the Croc. We’re the Neverly Crocs in case you didn’t know. Go Crocs!”
She makes a chomping motion with her teeth and a rawr motion with her hands that makes me laugh.
“Are you fucking with me?” I have to ask because new kid hazing is a rite of passage at most schools. I need to know what I’m in for.
“Not even a little bit. Come on, we might as well get started.”
We head inside and have just started down the hall when a commotion at the door draws everyone’s attention. My stomach does this excited lurch when Riot and his boys walk through the door. A hush falls over everyone as they stare at the trio.
X fist bumps a guy they pass and a few girls call out greetings.
They act like kings.
They have on the same required school uniform as everyone else, black pants and a white shirt, but they stand out. X and Riot have their sleeves rolled up, the bottoms partially untucked, while Baz is completely put together. He’s even got his tie on, while the other two seem to have forgotten. Stares follow as they move deeper into the building.
At the end of the hall, a small group of guys wait. One says something that makes X lift his hand, flipping the whole group off. Riot ignores it all and just keeps walking. I watch with unabashed curiosity, until Meri nudges my arm.
“Okay, so I guess I don’t need to tell you about them since you live there and all.”
I swing my narrowed gaze back to Meri.
She shrugs apologetically. “My mom’s on the school board. Pet
er had to get special approval for you to come here this late in the year, but the man did endow almost the entire school so it’s not like they’d say no to him. And it’s not like everyone isn’t going to be talking about the girl who lives with them. I told mom I’d show you around. We don’t get many new kids.”
Great. I don't even get to fly under the radar for a single day.
“So I guess the resident mean girls will be putting used tampons in my locker and stealing my gym clothes then?”
Meri throws back her head and laughs. Several nearby guys look over and I can see the appreciation in their eyes. She’s girl next door cute and in these stupid uniforms, I’m sure she stars in more than a few wet dreams.
“Let me guess, a fan of angst-filled teen movies?” she says with a grin.
“My sister,” I say before I even realize it.
“Oh, I’ve always wanted a sister. Is she older or younger?”
I shift on my feet and clench my teeth. “Younger.”
Thankfully Meri takes the hint and drops it. I’m not sure I can talk about Belle with a complete stranger.
“So anyway, no, no one will be mean to you. If anything, these bitches are going to be eaten up with jealousy. You have access to what they’ve coveted since middle school. You are living with the Lost Boys. You’re going to have more gold-digging friends than you know what to do with.”
My brain rushes to catch up and snags on one thing.
“Lost Boys?”
Meri tugs me forward and we start down the hall. “Yeah, you know like Peter Pan. Wendi and Peter. As in Pan. When they adopted the boys in seventh grade, that’s what people started calling them.”
It’s oddly fitting.
Meri stops in front of a bank of cream-colored lockers that look more like fancy cupboards with numbers on them. I’m still mulling around everything she just said when she presses her thumb to a tiny screen and her locker pops open.
“Cool, right? Mr. Panchard had all the lockers updated with his tech a couple years ago. He also revamped the computer science program and we now have state-of-the-art computers. They are badass. Could probably break into the FBI if I knew how.”
She grins but I’m already a few steps ahead. I wonder if I could find Belle with one of them. Maybe with some help.
“Who’s the best computer geek in school?”
She looks at me funny, like she’s waiting for the punch line, but when I say nothing she shakes her head.
“You live with him. Baz is the tech genius. If Peter wasn’t grooming him for Panchard, he’d be dangerous. Like super hacker dangerous.”
Baz? I pictured a pimply kid who lived in their parents' basement, not one of my hottie roommates.
“He doesn’t look like a computer nerd.”
Meri’s eyes sparkle. “Right? If he hadn’t helped me with my coding final last year, I’d doubt it, too. All the Panchard boys are computer whizzes, but yeah, Baz is a savant with tech.”
Possibilities race through my head. This could be very good.
“So all you need to do is hit three three three,” Meri says, interrupting my thoughts. “And after the light turns green, press your thumb on the pad. Then you’ll be all set. We have two classes together, I peeked at your schedule already, and you can sit with me at lunch. Unless…” She slides a sideways glance at me “You’re already eating with someone. Or three someones?”
The guys didn’t even look at me when they came in and considering the way they feel about me even being in the house, I’m going to guess that the same hospitality will extend to school.
“I’d love to sit with you.”
I program my locker and pull it open.
“So are you one of the girls who’s being nice to me to get close to them?” I tease, setting my book inside. I don’t really have enough stuff to warrant using my locker, but I feel obligated now. Like I opened it so I should put something in it.
Meri giggles again after I close it and face her.
“They’re hot, I admit, but I’m already taken.”
Just as she says that a tall blond guy walks up behind her and slides his arms around her waist.
He nuzzles her neck, but his gaze is on me and there is hostility radiating from his eyes. Okay, so this is new. Fuck off vibes from a guy and not a girl. The movies were wrong about this, too.
“You ready, babe?”
“Trey, this is Ever. I’m showing her around today. You know that.”
His glare deepens. “Can’t someone else show the stray around?”
Meri spins around and shoves against his chest. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
“She is,” he snaps and I take a step back.
I feel eyes on me and glance over to find Riot staring at me. Baz is on his phone and X is talking to a blonde, but Riot is focused on me. His gaze cuts to the boy behind Meri and his eyes narrow.
“Hey, Mer, there a problem?” a new, deeper voice says from behind me.
The back of my neck prickles and I take a small step to the side, clutching my bag to my chest. I don’t like people at my back.
“No, but your boy here seems to have one.”
Meri glares at Trey who is trying to burn a hole through my head with his eyes. I take another step and come up against a hard chest. A hand lands on my hip to steady me and I hear a low chuckle in my ear.
Unwillingly, I look down the hall and my gaze clashes with furious grey eyes. Riot drops his stare to where the guy is touching me and he fists his hands at his side.
The desire to step away from this guy is overwhelming, but I don’t know why.
“You do know whose house she’s living in, right?” Trey spits out, pulling my attention away from Riot.
“Oh my god, you need to get over that, Trey,” Meri hisses, poking a finger in the middle of his chest. “Until you get your head out of your ass, you’re cut off.”
She grabs my hand and tugs me away, and I look over my shoulder to see who was behind me. My gaze clashes with the greenest eyes I’ve ever seen. The corner of his lip quirks up and his gaze drops and runs down over me before popping back up.
He’s tall, golden and has a classic guy next door smile, but there’s something about the way he watches me that is anything but innocent.
“See you around, new girl,” he says with a wink before grabbing Trey around the neck in some kind of bro hug, then dragging him away.
I blink a couple of times to clear my head and let Meri pull me past Riot. He doesn’t even look my way and I wonder if I'm going crazy imagining things.
“I’m so sorry, Ever. I know you have no control over where you live, and it’s not an excuse, but Trey and the LB have history. But he had no right to act like that and I swear on our new friendship that he isn’t getting any until he apologizes to you.”
We step into an empty classroom and she leads me to seats in the middle. A group of girls comes in right behind us and I know right away that they are the queen bees. They have that look that sets them apart. Higher heels, lower neckline, perfect skin and nails.
The leader, a tall blonde who looks like she should be a model, stops and looks at me and I brace for the showdown. In every mean girl movie, this is where I’m humiliated in front of everyone as she demands I move.
Or calls me trash.
Instead, she sashays over and slides into the seat next to me. A waft of expensive perfume fills my nose and it’s really nice. Light and floral.
“You’re Ever, right? I’m Aine. This is Izzy, Kayleigh and Shae.” She points to the other girls who smile when their name is called. All I see are genuine smiles. They sit in a circle around Aine and turn their curious attention to me.
Her name sounds familiar until I remember that she’s the one Riot was going to the party to see. Of course he’d be interested in a girl like her. She’s perfect. Compared to her I don’t measure up at all.
I hunch my shoulders to hide the fact that the buttons on my blouse aren’t ready to pop open
.
No one seems to notice. Aine’s smile dims when she glances at Meri.
“Hey, Mer.”
“Hey, Aine.”
“Sorry you and Trey are fighting.”
I hear the insincerity in Aine’s voice. There’s history there.
Meri sits up straighter. “The hot, angry makeup sex is worth it.”
Something akin to a challenge shines in Meri’s eyes. Aine’s eyes narrow slightly before she swings her attention back to me, turning her back to Meri. I catch Meri’s gaze and she rolls her eyes. I bite back a laugh.
Okay, so there are at least catty girls at Neverly.
More people filter in and I watch with curiosity as the seats along the edge fill up first. The stragglers reluctantly sit next to our group but no one takes the desk behind me.
“So, Ever, you should sit with us at lunch,” Aine says, leaning closer, twisting a blonde lock around a perfectly manicured finger.
I can practically feel everyone’s ears straining toward us. Before I can answer, a hush falls over the room and the way my breath catches, I know who it is before I look up.
Riot stands in the doorway, lazy gaze moving over the room. When it lands on the only free seat, the one behind me, his eyes narrow. I half expect him to bark at someone to move, but he strides over and drops down.
Curious glances slide between me and him but he doesn’t acknowledge me and I ignore him right back, even though I can hear every breath he takes.
“Good morning, class. We have a new student.”
A man in a tweed jacket strides into the room and without pause, waves in my general direction as he passes. He sets his briefcase on his desk, then turns his stare to me
“I’m Mr. Reynolds. Introduce yourself on your own time. My class, my time.”
My mouth kind of falls open when he moves to the board and scribbles out What is the meaning of your life?
He’s kind of intense but I get the feeling that he enjoys what he’s doing. He brushes the chalk off his hands and faces the room.
“I’m not talking about the things your parents buy you, or phones or cars, I want to know what is meaningful to you. Deep down. Get creative. Dig deep, people, because this paper will count for one half of your final grade in this class.”
