Outcast: A Reverse Harem High School Bully Romance (Montlake Prep Book 2)

by Nora Cobb

  “Text me when you need tutoring.” I open my car door slightly, not eager to go. Will it be the same the next time I see him at school?

  Devilishly, he grins in the way that makes my stomach flip-flop. “Is that the cue now?”

  Blushing, I smile. He opens my car door all the way, and I slip in.

  “Text me when you get home,” he says sternly. “I want to know you’re safe.”

  It should have been him all along.

  CHAPTER 11

  Natalie

  Today, I don’t have to hang out in my car during lunch. Anthony and Beth aren’t in the courtyard because they have an art class field trip to New York. A thrilled Beth mentioned that they would skip the museum and hang out in lower Manhattan together. They only had to make sure they were on the bus before it left the city.

  Anyway, I don’t have to schlep my lunch back to my car. It'll be nice to have a clean car to ride in instead of cleaning out wrappers and crumbs at the gas station. So, I hurry to buy my lunch and head to the courtyard. I sit alone in the cold, eating my usual, a chicken sandwich, and streaming a playlist as I stare at nothing but ivy growing on a brick wall. I'm completely satisfied.

  Checking my watch, I shove my sandwich and my phone back into my bag, and I'm ready to head to class.

  “Trashalicious, we’re alone again.”

  Fuck. Standing in the doorway is a smirking Troy, ready to ruin my hour of happiness. Unfortunately, the courtyard was built on the basement level. It looks like the architect built the building, moved it over to expose the basement, and then planted a moss garden with low stone walls. Unless I scale the brick wall on the far side, there’s only one door in and out.

  “Go away, loser. We have nothing to talk about.”

  Troy is undeterred by insults. In fact, he only smiles harder, as if he gets off on them.

  “I heard you spoke to Arielle.” He clucks his tongue. “I thought you were smarter than that.”

  “Heard? You were there.”

  I move toward the door but leave plenty of distance between us. “I tried to warn you. Now she thinks you want me too. She’s such an insecure girl.”

  “Why do you play with people? What is wrong with you?”

  “Nothing’s wrong with me.”

  I shrink back from his look and hold myself steady. Hopefully, I can run past him and make it through the door.

  “Then leave me alone. I know that everything you’ve said is a lie. Just back off.”

  “I can’t, because you don’t belong here.”

  “So you’re going to make my life miserable because you think I don’t belong? It’s the twenty-first century, jackass. This first-class, third-class bullshit is a thing of the past.”

  His rude look spikes a chill through me. “Not for us, it’s not. You don’t belong here with me. You conned your way in and look at what happened. Your filth is infesting us.”

  “You’re sick. Just leave me alone. And never touch me again.”

  He reaches out, and I leap away. Troy stands up, and I pull back my fist. But he’s one step ahead of me as he easily grips my wrist. I wish too late that I had sent a text to Jacob. Troy holds my fist in his hand like a baseball.

  “Do you want to know the truth? You’re only good for one thing.”

  I brace myself for that filthy word, but he doesn’t say what I expect.

  “For shaking up the order and pulling things down. Upsetting the balance. I recognize that, and I do have you to thank for delivering Arielle to me.”

  Someone that’ll help you reach the end of the game. Ms. Petrenko’s words echo in my head. Did she have the same conversation with him? Or did he come to this realization all on his own?

  I tug hard, but his grip is too tight.

  “Let go, or I swear I’ll kick you.”

  He laughs. “Don’t damage the family jewels, girl. But don’t worry. I’ll never finish in you. I won’t risk you carrying my legacy.” Troy yanks me close as I lean back in disgust. I can’t kick him, or I’ll fall over. “But I don’t mind a little secret play in the dark. You’re good at that, right? I like a pretty woman with a good grip to finish me off.”

  “What are you doing, Troy?”

  Arielle is standing by the doorway watching us. I didn’t even know she knew about the art building, but slowly, it makes sense. Troy was probably looking for Anthony, and Arielle is keeping Troy on a short leash.

  Troy releases me, but before I can recover my footing, Arielle pushes me down onto the stones, and I wince in pain. Standing between us, Arielle’s face twists into an ugly scowl. But Troy won’t look at either of us.

  “You man-stealing whore!” She hisses loudly. “You can’t keep your paws off any man.”

  “I didn’t start it.”

  “Oh, you never do.” Arielle kicks my leg, and I wince as I try to crawl away. She goes in for another savage kick. “I told you to back off, but you don’t listen, you fucking slut.”

  “He was threatening me.”

  “Not according to him. You tried to get him, but he turned you down. Again.”

  “Liar! I’ll never want him.”

  “You were seen in the fieldhouse trying to seduce him.”

  Standing as my knee throbs, I suck in air, but I’m ready as the sick scene repeats itself. I look past Arielle at Troy, and the smile on his face would send the devil running for cover. I won’t be played by another boy. I hurry past them up the stairs and out onto the campus. But Arielle’s not backing off, and she’s right on my heels.

  “I’m not fighting you, Arielle.”

  “Not my fucking problem. Show me what you got, you middle-class trash.” Arielle pulls off her jacket.

  A few students come over to watch, mainly jocks leaving the fieldhouse. Unfortunately, these crude boys like watching girls fight. Desperately, I scan their faces for Jacob’s. Arielle takes a step closer, and I drop my bag on the ground, pulling my hood up over my hair and cinching the cord so she can’t grab it. You want middle-class trash? I’ll show you middle-class trash.

  She laughs at my caution then takes a swipe at me. This girl has clearly never been in a real fight before. I run toward her, hoping I’ll be suspended for fighting. I don’t know the code, but I’m hoping I can play the system. Before Arielle can hit me, Anthony steps in between us and takes a hit from both of us. Stunned, he weaves back and forth as his long legs cross and uncross.

  “I thought you went on the trip,” I gasp.

  Frowning, Anthony rubs the back of his head as Arielle looks away. She almost looks ashamed to have hit him, but not embarrassed enough to apologize.

  “The trip was canceled.” His face colors slightly, and I’m not sure if he’s telling the truth. “Are you okay?”

  I nod, but my bottom lip is trembling.

  Anthony scowls at Arielle, who’s glaring at all of us. “You don’t look okay.” His forehead creases with concern.

  A wicked grin plays across Arielle’s face. “You’re probably fucking him too!” she shouts, making a bigger scene. “We all know you tried at Homecoming.”

  I don’t bother to answer her bullshit. I’m tired of defending myself against her smear campaign. If people want to believe it, then let them. I look over at Anthony, and his face is pale as he stares at someone behind us. I turn to see Beth glaring as if I'm to blame. Beth sucks her teeth and then walks quickly away.

  Arielle is glowing with triumph as if she's won the fight. And she has with a strike that hurts worse than any punch.

  CHAPTER 12

  Natalie

  Later that night, I try to text Beth, but she won’t respond. I give her an hour because I know she’s not attached to her phone, but there’s still no answer. I start to worry, so I call, and it goes straight to voice mail. Resting a half-empty bottle of white on the floor, I roll over on my bed and poke at my phone. Beth is always posting on social media. She helps out with social marketing for her parents’ coffee chain. If I really need to get her, I ca
n tweet her as a last resort. But when I check my feed, her name doesn’t come up, and I realize that I’ve been blocked from her account. Anthony will know what’s going on.

  Me: Hey. You with Beth?

  It only takes Anthony three seconds to answer my text.

  Anthony: No, she won’t talk to me.

  Me: What happened? Why weren’t you guys on the trip?

  There’s a pause, and then a wall of text appears on my phone.

  Anthony: Cromwell was waiting by the bus checking backpacks. I didn’t have anything, but I reeked of it. He pulled me out of the line, and Beth got off the bus too. We were heading for the courtyard when we saw you.

  Me: Did you know Troy goes to the courtyard?

  Anthony: Yeah. I was meeting him there.

  There was a pause, and I let my head fall back into the pillow, wishing I had known. Troy’s on top, and he must not care about being discreet.

  Anthony: I needed the money.

  Me: Not judging. Just sorry I’m out of the loop.

  Anthony: You want to smoke? You don’t have to pay me.

  I laugh, rolling over onto my stomach. I look around my princess bedroom, imagining what Uncle Phil would think if he smelled smoke drifting under the door. I’ve changed the room up some with a wall hanging of a purple mandala. It looks a little edgier, but I’ll never be as edgy as Anthony. I take another swig of white, feeling better after that horrendous showdown at school. Uncle Phil is out again tonight, and he’ll be in a good mood. Too good to care about a missing bottle of wine.

  Me: Cromwell would have checked me for rubbers.

  Anthony: LOL. He’s an ass-hat. It covers his shiny head.

  Laughing, it’s so easy imagining Cromwell being a dick.

  Me: So, did you talk to Beth after?

  Anthony: Not really. I’m on her shit list too.

  Me: I thought you guys were dating.

  There’s a pause on his end. I wonder how many times he writes his next message and deletes it before hitting send.

  Anthony: We’re only ever going to be friends. She’s nice to you because I said I wasn’t interested. I told her that I don’t like jealous girls.

  My body relaxes into my bedcovers as a cloud of purple silk surrounds me. I’m off the hook with Anthony. He did defend me today, but Jacob would have had Troy on his knees and apologizing to every woman in a five-mile radius. I appreciate that Anthony made Beth act right, but obviously, she is jealous. I just want a friend. I just want to have fun. I think about Ms. Petrenko’s words. I want him to know that we’ll only be friends.

  Me: What am I to you?

  Anthony’s reply takes so long that I figure he’s off-line. I finish off the wine and debate getting a beer from the kitchen. I’m allowed the occasional beer, but it might be pushing it. My head swims as I touch my toes to the floor. Finally, my phone chimes.

  Anthony: I like you more than I wanna admit, but I don’t know if you’re with Lucas or Jacob.

  Now it’s my turn to send a slow reply. Resting my head on my pillow, I carefully type my reply. He still doesn’t know about Troy, but he knows something’s been going on.

  Anthony: They’ll stick to the code, but not me.

  Me: Fucking code.

  I can imagine Anthony laughing through his text.

  Anthony: But something happened? I can tell.

  Me: Jacob saw me in the hot tub, but that’s as far as it went with both of them. They never saw anything else.

  Anthony: Troy?

  I swallow hard, squeezing the phone.

  Me: I don’t want to talk about him.

  Anthony: Sorry. Not trying to pry.

  Me: It’s okay. You’re the only one I can really talk to. You’re codeless too.

  Anthony texts a wink emoji followed by a string of roses.

  Me: That’s sweet.

  Anthony: Not too much? He types, adding another.

  Me: Nope, I always feel comfortable with you.

  Anthony: Like we belong?

  My fingers peck fast, and it’s time to deflect before he gets hurt again.

  Me: I’d like to get a rose tattoo.

  Anthony: I’ll go with you. I have a few. Tattoos, not roses.

  Me: Show me.

  An image of Anthony’s bicep appears on the screen. He has a barbwire tattoo encircling his upper arm. It looks cool wrapped around his flexed muscles.

  Me: That’s cool.

  Another picture comes through and it’s a black heart tattoo in the center of his chest. It’s not a symbol; it’s anatomically correct in shades of gray and black.

  Me: That’s wild. I want one.

  Another image shows up that makes me swallow. Anthony’s undone his zipper on his jeans to reveal a tattoo of a gothic cross on his lower hip. I can see a few dark curls poking past the denim. He doesn’t wear underwear? I don’t reply, and he sends a text that reads...

  Anthony: You want to see lower?

  I giggle, and the wine bottle topples over onto the floor. It doesn’t break, and luckily, I’ve already emptied it. Another image appears and his pants are open, exposing his sexy V and another tattoo. It’s a black sparrow about the size of a quarter. I’m discovering a lot more about Anthony as his sexy pictures are heating me up. I should get off the phone.

  Me: Maybe I’ll get one like that in blue.

  Anthony: Where would you put it? Same place?

  Me: Nope.

  Anthony: Then where?

  It sounds like a dare. I lift up my top, and careful not to show my face, I take a picture of my rib cage under my breast. I check it out and you can’t tell it’s me. I hit send before I overthink it.

  Anthony: Nice. But where would you put the rose?

  Giggling, I pull up my sleeve and take a picture of my bicep. My face is in it, but it’s only my arm.

  Anthony: That’s tame.

  Me: Well, there’s another spot.

  I pull off my T-shirt and position the camera over my breasts. You can see the swell, but no nipple.

  Anthony: That’s better. Nothing lower?

  The house is silent, but I’m not taking any chances. I creep off my bed and lock the door, making sure this remains private. Tugging off my jeans, I hold the lace of my panties back with my fingertips and take a picture of my lower hip. Anthony’s text appears instantly.

  Anthony: That’s where you should put the rose.

  Me: When can we go?

  Anthony: Whenever you want. There’s a pause. Can I see your breasts again?

  I shake my head, but he can’t see me say no.

  Me: You’re so bad.

  Anthony: I’ll show you mine.

  Another picture appears on my screen. Anthony is lying on his back, his upper body exposed and his jeans pulled down across his lower hips. He has a joint in his mouth and a haze of smoke floats from his lips over the screen. He looks so sexy. It’s the perfect picture.

  Giggling, I lie back and take a shot. I check it to make sure that my face isn’t in it. My lower chin is visible and my hair covers my chest but it could be any blonde girl showing off her breasts. I click send.

  He doesn’t answer for a while, and maybe I went too far. We weren’t supposed to be more than friends, but there’s something about Anthony that’s attractive. He’s edgy, or tries to be, but in a way he reminds me of the boys of West Lake High. I can be myself, and it’s good to know that I don’t have to earn his love by being perfect.

  My phone chimes and another wild picture fills the screen. It’s intoxicating knowing that I’m having that effect on a guy. I’m so aroused by his sexy selfies. I slide the frilly lace off my hips and slip a finger into my folds, feeling the dampness inside. My phone chimes again.

  Anthony: Are you there?

  I aim the phone at my panties and hit send. Feeling desirable, I send him a few more.

  Anthony: God, you’re sexy.

  Me: You’re not going to tell? You’ll delete them?

  Anthony: Of course. Anyth
ing for you, always.

  Lying on my belly, I take another picture showing more of my breasts and a girly smile. Vaguely, I think we should be doing this on a burner. Who knows where it’s uploading? I text that we should stop.

  Anthony: Just one more. He pleads.

  Me: No, we’ve had enough fun. Just fun.

  Anthony: One more to send me off to sleep.

  I angle the phone, taking in more of my body down to the curve of my bare ass. I click and send it.

  Anthony: You’re making my dreams come true.

  It probably went too far, but I can trust Anthony. It won’t go any farther than this.