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

by Thandiwe Mpofu

  “With a man.”

  “—looking for a way to help my sister, Mia!”

  Heavy silence stretches between us for a second. My aunt blows a breath, looking tired all of a sudden. “Nancy has done a lot for me, sweetheart. More than you can understand.”

  She’s my mom’s younger sister by two years, and for as long as I remember, Aunt Nicky has always been wild and reckless, and mom would reel her back and bail her out of trouble.

  “Your father divorced her at a time when everything is so—”

  “Shitty.” I breathe, dropping down to sit on the top stair. “And their divorce hasn’t been finalized yet.”

  “Your mother will have a coronary if she heard you curse.” Aunt Nicky chuckles and sits beside me.

  “Well, that’s another thing we’re not going to tell her,” I say, bringing my knees to my chest, then resting my chin there, feeling vulnerable.

  “Your secret is safe with me,” she says. We’re quite for a few minutes, each drowning in our own thoughts.

  “She’s dying, isn’t she?” My voice is hoarse, dry, and scratchy when I ask. Looking toward my aunt, I see tears streaming down her face. She nods, confirming what I’ve felt for weeks now.

  “It’s ALS, Mia.” Her voice cracks twice but she forges on. “Today the doctors said she’s now in a crucial stage. There’s nothing the doctors can do but ease her pain. Which is why I need to be with her.”

  “When did the doctors come here?”

  “When you left, love.” She looks away, looking guilty.

  “We can’t afford house calls anymore.”

  “It was already taken care of.”

  By John Fitzgerald, the father of the two brothers who hate me.

  “How generous of him.” I roll my eyes, looking away. “Was he here too?”

  “He wanted to come but I asked him not to.” She grabs my hand, tugging it until I look at her. “He really is a good man, Mia.”

  I’m sure charm and money can make assholes look like good men.

  “Well, I’m glad you didn’t kill Dad when I left.” I make sure I keep my voice leveled, strong. I won’t break down or cry in front of her. I’ll reserve that for when I’m in the privacy of my room.

  “Today I realized my own self-control.” She chuckles, but it dies down just as quickly. “Besides, I think he’s…” She cuts off so abruptly, looking away.

  “He what?” I demand. “What did he do?”

  “I think he moved on with another bitch.”

  I remain mute, not saying anything. I shiver and look up to the large crystal chandelier that my parents had installed seven years ago, when the joy in our house slowly started getting sucked out. I didn’t know it then, but now, I know.

  “I guess he’ll want to live with her if we lose this house,” I murmur.

  That hurts.

  “I know you don’t know John very well, but he’s a good man,” Aunt Nicky starts. “He even had the west wing of his large house renovated to accommodate you and my sister.”

  If only my father had put in that effort for his wife. If only he had chosen her over everything else. Chosen her over illness and all that jazz. Hell, didn’t they say ‘I do’ to that shit?

  “He’s even going to hire the best doctors and medical specialists to look out for her and give you time to be a normal teenager for a bit.”

  “I won’t abandon my mother!” I grit out.

  “No one’s asking you to do that, my love,” she sighs. “Like you just said, you’ve been caring for my sister for a long time now, and I see it in your eyes. You’re tired and you feel like you don’t have any help. But I’m here now.”

  “Here to move us into your new five-minute lover’s house, apparently.”

  “Here to help you and take the burden off your shoulders,” she counters.

  “My mother isn’t a burden. She’s my best friend,” I whisper, even I can’t ignore the pain in those words. I’m losing my best friend as well as my life. While the King of my life, the man a daughter is supposed to love first, is out there moving on with his life like we don’t exist anymore.

  “I know, baby girl.” She sniffs. “She’s mine too and we need to give her the best care possible.”

  I know what she’s saying makes sense. I know taking care of my mother and giving her the best care is the most pragmatic thing, but this house, it holds so much of her that I don’t think I can let that go.

  As if knowing were my thoughts are, Aunt Nicky reaches for my hand and holds it. “It’s just a house, my love. And if you ask me, there are so many troubling memories in here.”

  The best memories of my life are in this very house.

  I learned to crawl, walk, and dance in this house.

  I found myself in this house.

  “I can’t let you move with my mother,” I start, feeling another fight coming on. I rush to finish before she can say anything. “Not without me.”

  I hate the Fitzgeralds, and tonight something happened between the two brothers and I.

  So, no matter what happens from here on out, we’ll be enemies in the same house, only we’ll all know something.

  It’s not my home and I dare not get myself comfortable. Which is why I need to come up with a game plan. I’m already at a disadvantage because when Julian pinned me to that tree, he knew.

  He knew and he didn’t tell me.

  “Thank you, Mia.” Aunt Nicky wraps her arms around me, her expensive perfume almost like my mother’s but it’s not. “I couldn’t do this without you.”

  There’s something wrong with that statement, but I don’t say anything.

  We move from my childhood home to the Fitzgerald mansion/insane mausoleum that weekend.

  Packing boxes upon boxes of my life and my mother’s, I put on my best ‘unbothered bitch’ mask and stay focused on one task at a time.

  I don’t think about where I’ll be living from now on.

  I don’t think about what might be waiting for me when I get there.

  I don’t think about the black remote in my pocket or the way Shane was acting last night when he gave it to me.

  I don’t think about the fact that I might have blown up that car.

  I refuse to think about all that. Actually, I don’t think about anything else other than getting Mom ready for whatever we might be walking into at the Fitzgerald’s, oddly comforted by the fact that no one really knows where their house is.

  I make sure to switch off my phone, and leave it like that, not wanting to be connected to anyone or hear anything about last night.

  With more than just precaution and jittery nerves, I force my aunt to have the moving trucks at the hidden back entrance of our house instead of the front where anyone can pass by and notice them. I didn’t want anyone, not Kristine or anyone from Clintwood or even St. Jude, to know that I was moving, let alone where to.

  When we finally got to the Fitz mansion, I was stunned at how big it is. It took over twenty-eight minutes to drive here from our house, which makes this like a thirty-nine-minute drive away from my school and thirty to St. Jude.

  Yeah, they knew what they were doing when they bought this house. Privacy is a major issue for the Fitzgeralds, and I messed that up for them once.

  I search my mind to try and think if I’ve ever heard of the Fitz brothers throwing a party at their large mansion, but I don’t think they’ve ever done that.

  A fact that’s proven by my aunt later that afternoon.

  “Look at it, Mia, Nancy!” Aunt Nicky exhales, a look of awe on her face as we stare at the mansion. “It has ten bedrooms, 8 and a half bathrooms, a pool house, a private beach you’ll love, I promise. And this gorgeous house sits on prime, secluded land.”

  “It’s…fabulous,” I mutter sarcastically, putting as much excitement as I can in my voice.

  “Gosh, I can’t believe we’ll be living here,” Aunt Nicky gushes, her smile so wide, it’s almost blinding.

  “In another wom
an’s house,” I mutter under my breath. “Can’t believe it.”

  “What?” she questions, eyes narrowed on me.

  “It’s nice.” I smile.

  “Nice?” she shrieks. “It’s beautiful!”

  “Yup!” I try to be enthusiastic. Smiling with teeth and all. She shakes her head but, like a pro, she takes the crappy compliment at face value, shooting her own fake smile. See, I come from a long line of sass and fake pleasing—which is why I’m not sure about this marriage.

  “I know, right? Wait until you see the inside,” she says, clapping her hands.

  “Wait, you’ve been here before?” I deadpan, dread pooling in the pit of my stomach.

  “Yes, I first visited just last week.”

  Last week. Aiden passed away last week.

  “Wow.” I stare at my aunt, for the first time feeling like she’s a stranger and I hardly know what’s going on with her. Not that anyone can ever say they know her for real. Aunt Nicky is a mystery, sometimes, she’s a delightful phenomenon and other times, she’s a bit childish and annoyingly strange.

  “What?” she questions, looking at me with worry in her eyes.

  “Were you here with John last week?” I question.

  “Uh, yeah.” She smiles. “What’s going on, Mia?”

  Everything clicks into place. The hostility from the Fitz brothers from last week, it all makes sense. She was here.

  “Nothing, Auntie.” I fake a smile. “Tell us more about the house.” Since you know a lot more about it.

  She smiles then starts gushing over the house and how the land is carefully maintained and that the beach is gorgeous at sunrise. She talks for what feels like an eternity as I stand there, feeling like there’s going to be an open war in that house the moment I step foot into their territory.

  “Now, you might have heard about this, but John’s oldest son Aiden, he passed away recently.”

  No kidding.

  “He was sick for a while, that’s why their house is close to the beach because it helped him and it’s also private, to keep away from the paparazzi.”

  Yes, the paps. I know all about that.

  But with that comes another type of fear that had me gasping for breath when I woke up covered in sweat at four in the morning.

  My mother’s face plastered all over the papers.

  “Are you sure the tabloids won’t find out about Mom?” I question, feeling like I’m stepping into a twilight zone as I stand in this driveway.

  I can feel eyes on me. I’d know that chilling feeling anywhere.

  He’s here. And he’s watching me.

  Guilt churns in my gut. I want to know how Liam is doing but I have a feeling I won’t be welcome to ask or to visit.

  “John has excellent security here, Mia,” she says as she pushes mom’s wheelchair up the newly installed ramp. “They won’t find out about anything.”

  We stare at each other for a second, not saying a word, but we both know it’s only a matter of time until that information gets leaked into the world.

  For two and a half years now, the world thinks Nancy Montague, the best prima ballerina to grace theatres in a century, retired and is raising her teen, soon-to-be prodigy, daughter. The truth of her illness is not out there, and I’ve worked hard to keep it that way. So did my father.

  Before, I thought he had doctors and nurses who came to the house sign NDAs because he cared about my mother’s reputation and pride. But now, I think he was doing it to save his own skin. After all, he used to tell anyone who would listen that he was married to the beautiful, amazing, graceful Nancy Montague.

  Now, she’s not so graceful. She’s not always put together and the truth is, he doesn’t love her anymore.

  “How long do I have to stay here listening to you?” I snap. “Mom needs to rest.”

  “Mia.”

  “And she needs to get out of the sun.” And from prying eyes that might anywhere, hiding, waiting to expose my mother. “She really is tired and in pain.”

  “Trust me, Mia,” my aunt whispers. “This is a new start for us. Everything’s going to be alright.”

  Everything’s about to blow up in our faces. But I don’t say a word.

  I don’t say anything when her fiancé comes out to help push my mother into the large house.

  Mom watches everything, not saying a word like she’s not there but there’s a sharp look in her eyes as she takes in everything around her.

  “Amyotrophic Lateral Sclerosis, or ALS, is a progressive neurodegenerative disease that affects nerve cells in the brain and the spinal chord.”

  That was the first thing I read when I looked up my mother’s symptoms at fifteen years old, tears running down my face when I couldn’t figure out why my goddess of a mother wasn’t able to hold anything or look at me or dance with me like she used to.

  I wanted to know why her body was twitching a lot and why it made her cry.

  I wanted to know why my father wasn’t doing anything about it, but the internet had nothing on that but ‘marriage counseling’.

  I bend down to look at her and she connects her gaze to mine, eyes glistening like she knows I’m pissy right now and I’m about to run my mouth. That alone makes a spark of hope ignite in my chest. For a moment I want to believe that I still have quite a bit of time with her.

  I wonder what she thinks about all this. We didn’t really talk at home, well, we don’t really ever talk.

  I wonder if she suspects that her sister might be marrying John Fitzgerald for his money, or is it true love?

  Now in the house, I stand in the great foyer, taking everything in. The place is large, filled with expensive, luxurious items only found in houses where owners don’t really know what to do with all the money they have practically multiplying each time they breathe or take a shit.

  I would know, I once lived this kind of life.

  But there is one overwhelming sense that splendor and opulence couldn’t hide because it feels so damn familiar.

  This is a broken home.

  “Welcome, Mia,” John starts, a smile on his face. He’s a handsome man, besides the light sprinkling of salt and pepper at his temples, and the laugh lines around his eyes, he looks just like his son, Julian. Just not the same eye color.

  He must get that gorgeous, captivating green from his mother.

  “Where’s my mother supposed to stay?” I question instead. I don’t give a damn about how rude I am. If it was up to me, I’d keep my mother with me at our house as long as possible, but even that idea is dumb. Mom didn’t need that stress.

  But with the divorce Mom’s care went to her sister and I’m still under-age. To the law, I don’t know any better than parties and shopping.

  “Mia,” my aunt chides, looking horrified.

  “It’s alright, my love,” John says, rubbing my aunt’s back lovingly. “I understand that Nancy needs to settle in.”

  I grab my mother’s wheelchair, forcing my aunt to step back. She frowns, but I don’t care. All I want to do is escape the prying eyes coming from the second floor, looking down at me with anger flashing in those dark depths.

  “We have the west wing ready for you and your mother, if you’ll follow me, I can show you,” John says. “But before we go, please meet Hayley.”

  It’s then that I notice the middle-aged woman, dressed in white scrubs and an easy smile on her face. She looks welcoming and experienced. Immediately I know she’s the designated in-house nurse.

  “She’ll be Nancy’s twenty-four-hour care nurse. She’ll be living in this house as well, to help out.”

  I want to say I don’t need his help. I want to tell him to take it and shove it up his ass, but I bite my tongue. Quickly thinking up a strategy, I decide to go on an insulting spree.

  “Tell me something, John,” I start, making sure my voice is as sugary and charming as I can. I widen my eyes, pulling my hair back behind my ear. “Do you get bedroom points for pleasing your soon-to-be bride?”
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  I watch, feeling satisfied that I shocked him, as his face grows slack.

  “Mia! That’s enough,” my aunt chides.

  I smile at her, tilting my head to the left. Last night when I agreed to move, I never promised anything about reigning in my temper or the dark green, bitchy monster I inherited from my father.

  The dark green part of it; the flares of arrogance and sometimes jealousy and snappy side, I think comes from both my mom and aunt. They were, after all, competitive women who ruled in both high school and college once.

  The rest of the ugliness is all my father. It’s not my fault I look like my father.

  “My apologies, Auntie.” I drop my voice, inserting a fake sigh of resignation, looking sad. “It’s just, I didn’t sleep well last night, and I feel like my life has just been uprooted which is an uncomfortable and painful feeling to have for any teenager really.”

  I wasn’t lying about that.

  “Oh, I—” he starts but I cut him off.

  “I mean, you have sons, right?” I press, knowing damn well that John is a shitty parent. If he wasn’t, Julian and Aiden wouldn’t have been alone for that long at the hospital three years ago. “You must know what it’s like when they feel uprooted?”

  I want to look up at Julian, but I stay put, comforted by the fact that he’s still there, his eyes on me, listening to everything.

  “Uh, yes. I understand,” he starts then clears his throat.

  “So you understand that I’m in a bit of a funk, right?”

  “Oh, I understand what you mean.” John’s face grows red with embarrassment and my aunt frowns at me. “I’m terribly sorry for all this, Mia. You’ve already done so much for my boys. The least I can do is try to make this move as easy for you as possible.”

  I pretend to wipe an imaginary tear, ignoring my aunt’s shocked gaze. As well as a studying, penetrating gaze that’s been on me since I arrived.

  “It’s alright.” I sigh heavily. And dramatically. “I know you two are just in love and couldn’t wait to live together.”

  John shifts uncomfortably but I can see the sharp intelligence in his eyes as he watches me.

  Hmm.

  “If there’s anything I can do for you, Mia, all you have to do is say it and I’ll move heaven and earth to make it happen.”