Devious Kisses: A Bully Enemies -To-Lovers Romance (It's Just High School Book 1)

by Thandiwe Mpofu

“What does that mean?” I question, shutting my locker with a thud, as I turn to look at her.

  “Nothing. I mean, everything in your life is perfect.” I can hear the sarcastic, jealous note in her voice, but I ignore it. “Did you hear about the latest mean note?”

  I glance at her, thinking of the notorious, random mean notes that have caused scandal after scandal at Clintwood. No one knows who writes them. No one knows who leaves them but each of the notes are always designed to demean and ridicule the recipient. And they are published publicly, for everyone to read.

  It’s the meanest thing that happens in this school. The ten people that have received those notes since the thing started when I was a sophomore, all went on to transfer schools after the bloody mess each note caused. Friendships, relationships, and people were broken by those notes.

  “No, who got it this time?”

  “Mildred.” She starts laughing and I frown.

  “Who’s she?”

  “Exactly, that’s what the note was about. See, Mildred is a senior this year, about to graduate but apparently she did some nasty shit just so she could get that paper.”

  “Don’t they all.”

  “Well, she fucked the chem teacher.”

  “Mr. Scott?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Ew, he has to be like a hundred years old.” I almost gag.

  “Yeah and you know what, it’s true. There’s a video.”

  “Oh my God.”

  “I know! Now everyone’s trying to find the video. Mr. Scott just got fired, and Mildred, the poor thing got suspended.”

  “Damn and it’s only four weeks until graduation.”

  “Well, she dug her own grave.” Kristine laughs. “What a fool.”

  Those mean notes… God, I hope I never get one.

  “Oh, I heard that you might actually get the Paris gig,” she starts, glancing at me.

  I swallow, ignoring the sharp stab of pain in my chest as I think of the Paris Opera Ballet, one of the best ballet companies in the world, but not only that, it’s where my mother made a name for herself.

  It’s where she was first deemed the best principal dancer that the ballet world had ever seen. It was her entire world and my legacy. And I HAD to get in.

  But right now, with how my life is going, I can’t nail a simple beginner’s level routine that I usually do with my eyes closed without fail.

  Right now, everything’s shitty. My pose is always wrong. The routines are hard. My movements are jerky. My turns and spins are as precise as a blind man dicing vegetables. My focus is off like some cheap, color washed, Target clothes that Kristine sometimes wears and lies that they’re vintage.

  The point is, something always seems to go wrong when I dance. Forget the fact that I was the daughter of a legend. At this point, it’s almost laughable that I can’t do anything as perfect as she did.

  “Yeah well, that might not happen, since I haven’t nailed the freaking routine yet,” I murmur, feeling the aches in my body from dancing at 3am in the studio my father built for my mother before I was even born.

  “Please, you were the best little ballerina in our class when we were five.”

  Yeah, when we were five!

  “Rumor has it from Mel that you’re still the best,” she presses, smacking her gum so loud I internally flinch. “Didn’t you dance in New York last summer?”

  Yes. And came back to a house in chaos, expensive furniture and artwork repossessed, and my mother barely able to move, let alone breathe.

  “That’s different.” Last summer my mother was just tired, and I never felt the urgency and desperate need to follow in her delicate, legendary, ‘never-been-done-before’ footsteps. All I wanted to do was dance. But now, I desperately want to make her happy. Classical ballet was once my mother’s pride and joy. She lived, breathed, ate the fuck out of ballet and now…

  “You know what you need?” Kristine starts, her eyes widening again. “You need to let off some steam. You’re coming out with the rest of us Saturday night.”

  “With the rest of you?” I question.

  “Well, a bunch of top, popular juniors are going to help cause some chaos with the seniors before they leave.”

  “And you’re going?” I don’t really care what her plans or anyone else’s are. All I know is, I won’t be there.

  “Well, you know it’s only the popular kids who get a pass to go and it’s a privilege to merely tag along but, with you, we can definitely go.”

  Well then, it makes sense why she was looking for me after class. I’m her glamorous, undeniable VIP entry to anything exclusive happening in Palos Verdes and she knows it. She could’ve been her own invite, though.

  “Let me guess, you also want to go prank St. Jude?” I question, seeing how excited she is.

  Once upon a messy tale, that was me. I literally lived for my social life, growing my social media accounts, the teenage drama that seemed to be never-ending and so damn important, going to raging parties with seniors when I was just a freshman, which gave me a front-row seat to the cruel pranks that our school and St Jude High engaged in.

  Now, that sounds like a lifetime ago. Like I was a completely different person then.

  “Yes!” She jumps up and down in her heels, clapping her hands together like a fucking praying mantis. Her body shape looks like that too. “And you know what? It’s going to be huge since the Fitz brothers have been found and are back.”

  “I wasn’t aware they were missing,” I say sarcastically, but inside my heart starts pounding.

  “I’m not surprised, you haven’t really been paying attention to anything but yourself these days.”

  That makes me feel bad for some reason. I’ve been so in my head with everything at home, I haven’t been paying attention to Kristine. Shit.

  “Kristine, listen. I…”

  “There’s no need to apologize to lowly ole me. I mean, you are you after all.”

  Why does she keep saying that? Is there a hidden meaning there that I’m not catching?

  “No, that doesn’t mean I have to be a shitty friend. It’s just that so much has been going on and I’m trying to nail my routine with barely enough time to present it in a few weeks.” I hug my bag to my chest, glancing down at my watch. I really need to go.

  “That’s the shittiest apology I’ve ever heard. If you need to be somewhere, then by all means, Mia, don’t let me keep you.” Kristine folds her arms, jutting out her hip.

  I blew it again, didn’t I? Okay, I need to fix this, fast, before it gets all messy. I don’t have time for messy anything, other than my own home baggage.

  “No, I was just checking how long I have to go home, look for a super cute outfit that’s fit for pranking St. Jude this weekend, but something tells me I need to go shopping today. Friday shopping’s too cliché and so last minute.” I quickly say, thinking I’ll just make up a lie later, text her that something came up, that I have to stay in. It works all the time. “What time should I pick you up so we can go fuck up St. Jude on Saturday?”

  “Great. Saves me the time I would have needed to cajole you into joining us.” A voice interrupts and my insides almost tingle. I turn around and glance up at Shane Matthews.

  “Hey.” I breathe, not knowing what to do with myself. I like flirting with this guy. A lot.

  “Hey yourself.” He smiles and I almost gasp at the way his face transforms into this breathtaking masterpiece. God, this boy is handsome, and has been my crush since like forever.

  “You were planning on cajoling me?” I start, my stomach quivering. He’s talking to me! The most popular guy in our school is talking to me.

  Yeah, he was the quarterback of our sucky football team. He couldn’t throw for shit and his brain was probably the size of a mustard seed—I’ve seen his grades and I once helped him pass his Physics test last year. His fashion sense was alright, not the best, but before you dismiss him, have you seen his face? He’s handsome!

  “Oh Ma
ya,” he starts, resting a hand on my locker above my head, leaning in. “I tried calling you, but you ignored my call.”

  “You have my number?” Shit. Shit. SHIT!! I should really check my phone more! Wait. I frown, looking up at him. “It’s Mia.”

  “What?”

  “My name’s Mia.” I huff.

  “Yeah, sure.” He dismisses me so smoothly that my irritation disappears when he flashes that billion-dollar smile of his. “So, you’re coming out with the crew?”

  He leans in then. I can smell his cologne. My nostrils tingle, making me frown. I haven’t been this close to Shane before, and now that I am, I really want to take a step back, but I stay put.

  Why? He’s freaking talking to me!

  “I…” I glance at Kristine for help. She winks, exaggerating the move. I cringe a little inside. “Yes. I’ll be there.”

  “Good, then you can ride with me.”

  OMG! OMG!

  This is panning out to be a good day! But then it dawns on me.

  “Oh, I think I’ll meet you there instead!” I quickly say, standing up straight as the bubble bursts with a loud pop.

  “Come on, girl, it’s not a problem for me,” Shane says, leaning in some more. The way he watches me, makes me feel weird inside. I take a little step back, with a smile still plastered on my face. “I know where your house is.”

  For now, it’s our home. Besides that, there’s more that’s happening at my house that I don’t want him to see.

  “I know, it’s just, my Dad got me a new car and I want to drive it so bad.”

  That’s actually not a lie. The douchebag did get me a new car, probably his way of trying to pull me to his side. I’m not even sure if it’s fully paid for since his work’s been struggling. I don’t have all the details, but Dad hasn’t had great, wealthy clients in a while.

  “Don’t you just love that new car smell, Shane?” I bite my lip as I say that, watching him, batting my eyelashes.

  “Yeah,” he murmurs. I watch as his pupils start to dilate, then he licks his lips. I smile.

  “I just want to see what my new car can do and if it can excite me,” I say, dropping my voice to a low pitch. He nods, stepping closer to me as I step back, but he doesn’t notice. He runs a hand through his wavy blond locks and I almost melt.

  “Cool,” Shane says, then he moves in closer, that sexy smile still on his face. I think he’s going to kiss me! My heart starts pounding again, I feel like I’m going to break into hives and that’s a red flag!

  I can’t dare to have anyone kiss me. Not after that one kiss with Julian years ago. And let’s not forget Liam…

  I step back, but he steps with me. My nose tingles again and as he leans in some more, I can’t fight it anymore. I sneeze so hard, I drop my bag to the floor with the force of it.

  Mortified and feeling like I just messed this flirty thing up, I slap my palm over my mouth and nose, my eyes wide with embarrassment.

  I just sneezed in Shane Matthew’s face.

  “I’m so sorry!” I start, as he takes several steps back. “I…I have allergies and with summer approaching, it’s so bad.”

  From the corner of my eye, I can see Kristine watching me with a frown. We both know I don’t suffer from any God forsaken allergies.

  “Nah, it’s alright. I’ve got allergies too,” he says, with a smirk. “To anything that isn’t the best.”

  If his version of “best” is that cologne, then he needs a harsh wake up call. You’d think a girl sneezing in his face would be THAT call.

  “You’re the best, Shane.” Kristine jumps in, her high pitched voice coming from over my shoulder. I glance at her with frown, only to see her eyes glazed over. Confused, I look back at Shane and he laughs.

  “Yeah, I know I am.” He straightens, running another hand through his hair. If I had a choice, I’d have wanted him to have darker hair, maybe even jet black like mine. I’m incredibly attracted to that kind of guy. Or just one guy in particular and he hates my guts, I’m sure. “I guess you and I will have to finish what we started later. That is, if you come.”

  “Are you bribing me with a kiss?” I say, my flirt game burning so hard. This feels so unnatural. But if I date Shane, it’ll get people like Brantley off my back.

  “You bet, beautiful.” He winks. “But you’ll have to do your part in burying those assholes at St. Jude. Teach them some manners and who’s superior in Palos Verdes.”

  Well, St. Jude was superior in every way, but I just nod, not wanting to get into that.

  “Well, I don’t think the Fitz brothers will agree with that,” Kristine says, making Shane frown.

  “They’re going down before summer starts! Mark my words,” Shane says, his voice deadly serious.

  See, the grudge between Clintwood and St. Jude ran deep. It’s probably rooted in the foundation of our town. Stained with the blood of whoever lost the year it all started. Both schools are tough, have ridiculously rich people within their gates, et cetera. But the rivalry? It’s said to have started with two boys from both schools.

  Legend has it that they both fell in love with the same girl. That was a long time ago, since before my father was born.

  Personally, I think it’s all bullshit. It’s like we were in a medieval time, with gladiators going for battle. Only, the gladiators were from St. Jude, and pansy ass idiots from Clintwood. That’s an overuse of anything vintage.

  I mean, the football and basketball games were pretty much insane. The bleachers packed to the brim with supporters, cursing each other and their mothers in the name of the rivalry.

  “Well, with the messy divorce between their parents that was in the papers, I doubt they’ll even be there.”

  “The Fitzgerald parents separated?” I question, eyebrow raised. Shane frowns and Kristine rolls her eyes.

  “Keep up, Princess. Their court case and all that messy shit has been all over the papers and news. They were even mentioned on CNN,” Kristine explains.

  “Wow. I didn’t know a divorce could go public on that scale,” I mutter, feeling dejected.

  For some reason, I can’t help but feel like that’s going to be my parents too. I don’t personally know the asshole brothers, but I know one thing. When your parents split, it’s a nightmare for everyone involved. Especially for the only child in the house who stands in the shadowy hallways, listening to her mother cry herself to sleep in-between bouts of throwing up.

  “Well, not everyone’s divorce will be breaking news, unless of course, you are the Fitzgeralds,” Kristine goes on.

  My heart leaps in my chest, then it starts pounding so hard, I can feel my blood rushing in my veins, and I start feeling hazy.

  “Well, life is shitty,” I start, taking a step back. This isn’t a conversation I can have with anyone, let alone these two. I just…shut down. “I guess I’ll see you later.”

  “What? Are you going home right now?” Kristine questions, folding her arms.

  “Yeah, I told you I have to check my outfit.”

  At Clintwood, we wear uniforms, all part of a sad attempt at making sure we’re all equal. So that other people don’t feel inferior because of the ultra-rich amongst us. But hello, the school is a private academy. It practically catered to the rich, with only four or five scholarship kids in each grade.

  Besides, almost every girl in this school doctored their uniform. Short skirts that expose their nasty G-strings. Tight, transparent white blouses that leaves nothing to the imagination, and black blazers that neatly wrapped the whole package.

  “Seriously, you have tons of clothes that you left at my house, you can sleep over,” she says, looking pissed but if I look carefully, she looks hurt. Shit, I really did hurt her feelings.

  “I’d love to, Kristine but I seriously can’t,” I start, backpedaling toward the door. “But I’ll text you.”

  Suddenly, I hear loud noises, like an angry mob is shouting outside, then a car alarm starts ringing. Without wasting another se
cond, I rush outside with Kristine hot on my heels to see what’s going on outside.

  I push the large door to go out only to come to a dead stop, taking in the wild scene in front of me. The car with the ringing alarm is mine…

  “What the—” Kristine starts.

  “Fuck!” I scream. “My car!”

  My beautiful lipstick red Porsche was just egged! And not only that, the back is overflowing with trash…

  The body of my car is covered in white eggshells, disgusting egg yolk and whites sliding down the body like slime. And the backseat has disgusting garbage with flies all over it.

  And the culprits are speeding out of the student’s lot in a matte black Camaro.

  7

  “Fuck yeah!” Liam throws his fist up, throwing the empty carton of eggs to the backseat.

  “Hey,” Cole grumbles, but he’s got a wide smile on his face. “I’m back here, remember.”

  “Oops, sorry, my guy.” Liam shakes his head, still high from his egg-throwing fest. “That was pretty incredible.”

  “Yeah, egging people and unloading trash into someone’s car, pretty incredible,” Cole chuckles, but I catch his eye in the rear-view mirror.

  “That was fucking awesome!” Liam pumps his fist in the air. “God, I didn’t know I needed a little Clintwood prank sesh until just now. Thanks, bro.”

  “Now, will you calm the fuck down?” I murmur, seeing her face in my rear-view mirror. I don’t know what it says about me that she’s the first person I wanted to see after…

  “I make no such promises,” he chuckles.

  We landed back in L.A then drove to Palos Verdes a mere fourteen hours ago and already Liam’s been itching to cause havoc and mayhem wherever he can, burning with the need to reign down hell on the world after the weekend we just had. He’s smiling right now, but I can see the shadows in his eyes when I glance at him, catching his gaze.

  “Glad you got that shit out your system,” Cole says instead, leaning through the console, his large body looking crammed there. We never actually drive around in one car but after the shit Liam pulled at school, insulting a female teacher then slapping said teacher’s ass, we had to get the fuck out of there.