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

by Nora Cobb

  I sit up straighter in my seat. “Thanks,” I reply, because I’m a bit speechless. Arielle, queen of Montlake, is apologizing to below-status me.

  She continues, “I realize that you’re a true friend. A person that’s honest about what she says and does. A person that I can depend on.”

  It’s hanging in the air. My invitation to be part of the elite. I have been on the outside for so long, I don’t know if I can function within the code. But what do I have left? Natalie and Anthony?

  Arielle’s voice interrupts my angry thoughts. “The feeling we just had—that feeling of letting go and not giving a damn—that could be your life every day, and better. And you know that I will be behind you no matter what happens. I can be a true friend. Ask Lexi or Cora.”

  “I don’t really talk to them.”

  “But you could.”

  The turn to my house is coming up on the left. Anthony doesn’t want me with Natalie around. Who do I really have? A loser who doesn’t want me as his girlfriend, and a friend who doesn’t give a fuck about my feelings? I know the code, and nothing comes from nothing. If I want in, I have to pay my dues. If I say yes, I’ll pass over the threshold into a world of privilege that has eluded me because others think I’m not good enough. But I am good enough. I’m better than good enough. I’ll have them eating out of my hands and begging for more.

  “What do I need to do?”

  Arielle smiles as she puts the car in park. “Only one thing, and that’s expose Natalie for the slut that she is.”

  “Everyone knows she’s a slut.”

  “Not everybody.” Arielle hands me her phone, and I scroll through a series of pictures that make me want to spit and shout. Shot after shot of Natalie and Anthony exposed to each other. What else have they done behind my back? Was Troy a cover that they told me to hide their relationship? Was it Anthony all along who had her?

  I’m a fool, but no more.

  I type my number into Arielle’s phone and send the pictures to my phone. We hear it chime in the quiet car. I hand Arielle back her phone and open the car door. Leaning back in, I look at her, and she’s trying hard not to smirk.

  “Consider it done,” I reply. An evil grin curls my lips, and like a secret pact, Arielle smiles back.

  CHAPTER 19

  Natalie

  Mondays always suck, but they suck even worse when you’re at Montlake. I’m wearing one of my new outfits today. A cashmere sweater with a suede wraparound skirt all in gray with knee-high boots. I know I look good because everyone is staring. After class, I receive a text from Lydia and hope it will lift my mood. Head bent, I read my phone while walking to my locker.

  Lydia: Hey, Nat, are you on social?

  I’m not. Even before Montlake, I preferred to live life in real-time rather than on the screen. I have a few accounts that I keep open, but I haven’t checked them lately. Immediately, I text her back.

  Me: No … Why?

  Lydia doesn’t answer right away. And that feeling of dread crawls over me as I stare at the blank screen and wonder what level of hell I am about to land in. My phone chimes.

  Lydia: You should check. Away from school—at home. Give me a call. Be strong.

  I should wait, but I don’t have the patience to wait for the bad news. It’s lunchtime, so I go to my car, and start checking my accounts. The email I set up just for social has blown up with one hundred-plus messages. What the fuck happened since I went to bed last night?

  I open the first one, and it’s a lewd shot of some strange guy’s hairy, naked body from the waist down. I delete it, but the next one is even worse.

  I check the return address, and they’re being forwarded from a site called “Taste-grlz.” Has my email account been hacked by some broke girl with a cam account? I skim another email, and it is gross—a guy in another state asking for a price list of services. He also asks for something I didn’t know people ever do, especially with each other. Good thing I skipped lunch, because I feel sick.

  Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath and place my phone on the passenger seat before I can wildly smash it into fragments. My email is flooded with anonymous solicitations from strangers looking for pictures of sexual acts. The tears burn my closed lids as the realization of what must have happened fills my stressed mind. Obviously, someone submitted my selfies to an adult site. Maybe someone is answering ads from these pervs using my photos.

  But how did Lydia know? She doesn’t go on those sites. I doubt she even knows they exist. I text her back and my phone chimes.

  Lydia: Yikes. It made it to the front page of Spin-post.

  My phone chimes again.

  Lydia: Under the Montlake and the West Lake sub. Sorry to be the one to tell you, but you need to know. Don’t hate the messenger.

  Me: Thanks for being a real friend. I can never hate you.

  The snobs have done some low things to me at the school, but this goes below rock-bottom. Angry tears blur my vision as I delete the string of messages off my phone, marking them as spam. My mind dashes through a mental list of who could help me fix it, and the only tech wizard I know is my uncle.

  I shouldn’t, not before class, but curiosity is stalking me like it did the cat. Grabbing my phone, I log into Spin-post and almost faint. Slumping down in the driver seat, I stare at my half nude photo on the top of the front page. My face is cropped out, but I know my body. My naked breasts are the first post on the discussion board for both schools. The worst part is that it’s not the original selfie; it’s a screenshot taken from a porno site. The comments are lewd and not just from Montlake, but from all over the world. Shit. I throw my phone down onto the floor of the car.

  Anthony has the pictures, but he wouldn’t have done this to me. I know that other people know about the pictures. But who else actually has them? Lucas is angry with me, but this isn’t his M.O. His M.O. is to look through a person as if they don’t exist, which he has been doing lately to me. Jacob is direct. He’ll come at you and not go behind your back. What about Arielle, Lexi, or Cora? They’ve probably seen them by now, but they wouldn’t resist a chance to call me names first.

  That leaves Troy. I’m out of my car and running before my mind registers what I am doing. I don’t know his schedule, and lunch is almost over, but I know how to get him. I head for the art building, and sure as the sun shines every day, Anthony is there. I don’t understand how he manages to score a scholarship when he rarely studies.

  His face lights up when he sees me, and then it crumbles as I glare him down.

  “What happened?” his voice shakes.

  “Text Troy,” I demand. “Tell him to meet you here after school.”

  He pulls out his phone and taps the screen. “Do you want to tell me what happened?”

  Shaking my head, I hold in my anger because I need all of it to let loose on Troy.

  He continues, “Anything I can do?”

  “No. You’ve done enough.”

  Anthony’s lower lip trembles, and I know it’s a low shot. But from where I’m standing right now, I can’t ever see a future between us.

  ***

  I have to go to class. I’m not going to graduate if I miss another one. No one is talking to me in the hallways, but I can tell from the whispers as I pass that they’re talking about me. I look straight past everybody as I walk into my English class.

  My stomach pitches and flips as two boys in my class lick their lips and suck on their pens while watching me. They’re losers. But my face heats up, and I’m not sure how much I can stand today.

  When the last bell chimes for the day, I bolt from my desk, almost knocking a girl onto her ass who’s too close to the door. In a blur, I run down the stairs of North Hall and through the exit door, heading toward the art building. Breathing in the stinging cold air as I run across the quad, I don’t have my coat, but the cold doesn’t bother me as I crash against the door, flinging it open and flying down the stairs into the courtyard.

  Troy better be
there. He better, that bastard. I know he’s behind this. He’s stolen a part of me. Why can’t he leave me alone? I want to break down and cry thinking about that night. But my thoughts don’t help, so I just push them down farther and farther, hoping they will fade from my memories.

  Anthony is sitting alone on the low wall, reading his tablet. His eyes widen, and I can only imagine the wild expression on my face.

  “What are you doing here?” I huff. Anthony looks surprised and even hurt. I change my tone. “I just don’t understand why you’re here.”

  “You shouldn’t meet him alone, Natalie.” He puts his tablet in his backpack. “Troy is a sick fuck.”

  I take a deep breath in because he’s right. Meeting Troy alone would’ve been a mistake, especially after what he did to me. I close my eyes and try to calm myself. I have to focus. I can’t break apart. I can’t let Troy own me.

  “Thanks. You’re right.” My words are stiff as I sit down beside him.

  Anthony reaches out to touch my arm, but I lean out of reach.

  “Not now,” I whisper. “I’m not ready to forgive you today.”

  Anthony puts his hand down, and he stares at me in silence with his large emerald eyes. I meet his gaze as if it is a challenge to see who’s hurting more. I don’t look away as I study the pain that’s left lines on his handsome face. I see the concern in his eyes, and quietly, it reaches down to my battered heart. He leans in, his lips part, and he whispers, “Natalie, I’m so sorry. I’ll fix it. Whatever it is, I promise I’ll fix it for you.”

  His face blurs as my eyes fill with tears. I’m surprised I have any left to cry.

  “Anthony,” I whisper, “Nothing can fix this mess. It went viral.”

  I can tell by his expression that he’s not on social media either.

  “Oh, she’s with lover number one.”

  In the open doorway, Troy stands, filling the frame with his tall body as he laughs at us. The thoughts I tried to push away send a message to my body. In a mad dash, I run toward him, and Anthony is on my heels.

  “You freaking SOB, I’ll claw that smile off your face!” I shout, my hands connecting with his face. “I hate you.”

  Troy pulls away as Anthony catches me in his arms. I thrash and scream against him and turn my rage on Anthony instead. Cursing at him and telling him to let me go, just let me the fuck go!

  “What is wrong with her?” Troy holds his face where I scratched a red line down his flawless cheek. I never thought I would ever see a look of shock on Troy’s uncaring face. But I’ve accomplished something I never thought I would: I made him feel.

  “You crazy bitch.” Troy backs away from us.

  “It’s your fault!” shouts Anthony. “Why can’t you leave her alone?”

  Troy rolls his eyes as he fixes his coat collar. “I don’t have the time for dopes and whores. What do you want, Anthony? Do you have something interesting to sell? I hear CBD oils are about to put you out of business.”

  “I wanted you here!” I shout. “I told him to text you.”

  “You want me now, Trashalicious?” Troy taunts. “It’s about damn time. See, Anthony, inches do matter.”

  I scream obscenities until my throat is raw. “Why did you post those pictures, you dumb, heartless fuck? Wasn’t it enough what you did to me? Now you’ve ruined me forever!”

  Troy and Anthony freeze and then stare at me as I break free and tumble down onto the cold ground. The frozen grass stings under the palms of my hands, and the stones bruise my knees, but the pain is good. It keeps me alert and from turning into a sobbing mess.

  Troy shakes his head. “I saw the pictures, but that wasn’t me.”

  “You’re lying,” I hiss.

  Troy shakes his head in disbelief, as if I’m delusional to accuse him of being heinous. He looks to the sky, as if anything angelic would ever waste its time on him.

  “I’m not lying.” He laughs weakly with scorn. “I’m telling the truth this time. Today, I swear, I am actually telling the truth. I didn’t post those pictures, Natalie.”

  Catching my breath, I stop and stare at him. Troy has never talked to me like this before. He called me by my name. I’m not sure if he’s ever called me by my name. Like a shocked deer staring at a hunter, I wait for him to take the next move.

  Troy approaches me with slow and cautious steps. His lips twist into a smirk, knowing that he’s untouchable. “It wasn’t me,” he whispers low so only I can hear. “I’m not the one that hates you.”

  The cold wind numbs my ears as my breath trails up into the frigid air. Troy leans closer, and I feel Anthony’s hands closing around my upper arms. I can feel Troy’s hot breath on my cold cheek in the fading daylight.

  “It was Beth,” he whispers.

  My mouth opens, and I scoff at his stupid lie. “Beth? You’re lying. You’re always lying.”

  “Not this time,” he replies. “Beth posted them. You can ask Arielle instead of me.”

  I shake my head. Sure, things haven’t been so tight between Beth and me, but this doesn’t make sense. Troy has to be lying. I fix a hard gaze on him and put my face into his. I’m not backing down this time.

  “I don’t believe you,” I hiss. “Why would Beth do something like that to me?”

  Troy says nothing because he doesn’t need to. Instead, he slowly lifts his hard gaze and looks past me toward Anthony. I feel Anthony’s hands leave my upper arms, and carefully, I turn to look at him. Anthony’s face has gone pale. He never means to be the cause of my hardships, but when he’s around, I get hurt. No, I get torn to shreds.

  “That’s a lie.” My voice is barely audible. “It has to be a lie. Why?”

  Troy furrows his brow and looks at me as if I should know better, and maybe I should.

  “Okay,” he says, “so you two have hooked up at least …” He holds up his hand and folds down three fingers. “Three times, maybe, and she is a little jealous.” Laughing, Troy turns to walk away, but he stops short in the doorway. “So if Beth is your friend, why are you with him?”

  “I’m not with Beth,” declares Anthony.

  “Doesn’t matter,” Troy replies. “There’s a code at Montlake that you’ve both been ignoring. But it seems you’ve been ignoring a lot of things. Like your friend. Rule number seven: keep ’em close.”

  Troy turns and runs up the steps, leaving us with our mouths open. I can’t believe it. I was just schooled by Troy Saunders. It was Lucas and Arielle all over again, and I was stupid not to see it coming again. The truth runs me over and leaves me reeling.

  With Troy out of reach, I turn on Anthony. “Are you telling me the truth? You keep telling me that it’s a silly crush. And she’s over it. Is it a silly crush, or is she in love with you?”

  Anthony takes a step back. His mouth opens, but no words come out. His sweaty forehead is covered by his untamed locks of black hair. He holds his hand out toward me.

  “I don’t love her, and I will never be with her. What do you want me to do to prove it to you?”

  Getting up, my knees bend dangerously, and I reach out for the low wall. I sit down on it, feeling the weight of every wrong decision I’ve ever made pressing down on my shoulders.

  “I just need to sit and be alone,” I whisper, staring at nothing.

  But Anthony doesn’t leave me. He doesn’t understand the trouble he’s caused me since the day we met. He yanks his phone out of his bag, and too late, he deletes the pictures.

  “I’ll take what I can down,” he says. “I’ll do what I can to fix it. I’ll make it go away. Just don’t shut me out.”

  CHAPTER 20

  JACOB

  “I’m surprised you showed up.”

  Natalie brushes past me, through the open door of my house, and walks into the main hall. Since that night she kicked us out, I have given up on calculus. I’m studying for a D grade. So I’m surprised and relieved when I get Natalie’s text. I invite her over Tuesday night. And she shows up looking hot and cute at
the same time. Dressed in a white cable sweater and a short khaki skirt, I notice how she’s upped her clothes style. She’s giving snobby Arielle a race to the top in the looks department.

  “Is your father here?” She looks up at the winding staircase as if he might appear out of thin air.

  “He’s out of town.” I stand beside her. The look in her eyes concerns me.

  “What about your mom?”

  “She’s gone too.” I take her backpack off her shoulders and carry it. “But not together.”

  “Why don’t they like staying at home together?”