Boys That Tease: A Bully Romance (Lords Of Wildwood Book 1)

by Betti Rosewood

  "Mister Dalton, you, too, if you don't mind," Professor Fitzpatrick spoke up, and my posture stiffened.

  What could he possibly have had to do with this? Maybe he was in trouble, too…

  "Miss Sullivan," the teacher spoke up, giving me a stern look. "I'm afraid your preliminary tests show you haven't had the best background in chemistry with your tutor. Unfortunately, that puts you at least two years behind the current curriculum the class is working through."

  I nodded, feeling miserable. It was just one more thing to add to my plate, another worry I'd have to deal with. I felt Crispin’s electrifying presence a moment later as he pulled his backpack higher up on his shoulder and came to stand next to us.

  "What's up, Prof?" he asked, and I half-expected Miss Fitzpatrick to start giggling.

  It was no wonder she was enchanted by Crispin. I mean, half the school practically worshipped the ground he walked on. And why wouldn't they? He wasn't just a lacrosse god; he was an all-star student and kind to mostly everyone.

  Except for me, I thought bitterly, looking at anything and everything but him.

  "Well, Crispin," Fitzpatrick spoke. "I know you'll be missing some classes this year due to your practice, isn't that right?"

  "Yes," Crispin nodded. "Our Wednesday and Thursday practice starts a bit earlier, which means I won't be here for the classes."

  "Which shouldn't be a problem since you excel at chemistry." The teacher beamed, and I fought the urge to roll my eyes. "Except your attendance will suffer. But I think I've come up with a way for you to make up those missing hours."

  "Oh?" Crispin glanced at me before looking back at the woman. "What's that?"

  "Miss Sullivan here," she said proudly, motioning to me. "She could really use some extra help if she wants to catch up with the rest of the class. Since you've excelled at chemistry during your first few years here at Wildwood, I'd very much like it if you tutored Tinsley and help her with the curriculum. All in exchange for extra credit, of course. How does that sound?"

  Crispin sneaked a look at me, making me blush even more fiercely. But I kept my gaze trained on the floor. I didn't want to show my true feelings to either one of them.

  "Sure," Crispin said easily. "If Tinsley agrees."

  "Of course, she does," the professor laughed. "Don't you, Miss Sullivan?"

  "I- I-" I struggled to find the right words, wiping the smile right off the teacher's face.

  "Miss Sullivan, you really don't have a choice," she told me sternly. "You need to be on the same page as the rest of your class, or I'll be forced to give you a failing grade."

  "Well, then why are you asking me?" I barked. "It seems like it's settled."

  "Indeed," she replied, sounding pleased and seemingly oblivious of my true feelings. "You may use the classroom when it's empty, but home sessions would also be welcome. Will that be a problem?"

  She seemed completely oblivious to our situation. She must live under a rock!

  "No, no problem at all," Crispin replied easily, giving us both his signature grin. "I'll make sure Tinsley's all caught up."

  "Perfect," Fitzpatrick practically purred. "We'll check back in after a few weeks and see how you're doing then, Tinsley."

  I nodded, not trusting myself to say another word as I made my way out of the classroom. I felt Crispin coming after me, and he fell into step beside me as we got into the crowded hallway.

  "You cool with this?" he asked me, and I snorted.

  "I guess. I don't really have a choice, do I?" I asked bitterly.

  "Tinsley, it's not so bad," he added gently. "We can study at my place, or the classroom, or wherever. You don't have to interact with my mom. Or sister."

  "That's not the problem," I muttered, refusing to look at him.

  "Then what is?"

  "Whatever."

  "Seriously, Tins. What's the problem?"

  I turned to face him, my heart pounding. We were in a full hallway, though, so I couldn't let myself tell him how I truly felt.

  "Just... forget it," I finally muttered, feeling defeated. "Let's just get on with it and hope it helps."

  "Sure," he nodded, giving me a doubtful look. "Is this about Estella?"

  I flushed at the mention of her name.

  He went on. "Are you worried she'll be jealous of us spending time together?"

  I laughed out loud, feeling more bitter than ever.

  "No," I muttered. "Far from it. She has nothing to be jealous about, anyway, does she?"

  He gave me a weird look before saying, "Why are you acting all strange then?"

  "I'm not." I was starting to get defensive, hoping he didn't figure out why that was. The last thing I wanted was for him to catch on to my feelings for him. "Anyway, I'd better get to lunch. I'm meeting Estella."

  He nodded, and I felt his searing gaze on the back of my neck the whole way to the cafeteria.

  "I have something super exciting for us to do together." Estella clapped her hands the moment I sat down with my food.

  "Oh God." I groaned. "What now?"

  She looked amazing in her uniform, the skirt cut just a few inches too high. Her hair was voluminous and bouncy, her makeup as perfect as ever, making me wonder how I could ever think I was anywhere near as pretty as her.

  "Cheerleader tryouts." She grinned wide, ignoring my discomfort as she launched into her speech. "We have to try out together, Tins! Inca's coming, too." She motioned to her friend, and I exchanged an equally miserable glance with poor Inca.

  "Estella, maybe you should do it by yourself," I muttered. "I don't think I'm the cheerleading type."

  "You've got to at least try out!" she cried. "You'll be so sorry if you don't. You know what they say. We regret the things we didn't do, not the ones we did."

  I thought about her words for a few moments and realized she was right. I was sorry I hadn't made that move first, pulled Crispin in, and saw if he tasted like crisp, fresh apples, too. Now she had him all to herself.

  "Okay," I muttered. "I'll come with you, I guess."

  "Perfect!" She clapped her hands in excitement, grinning from ear to ear. "Oh, there's Crispin now! Baby, over here!”

  I averted my gaze as he approached us. I could barely look at him, especially knowing he was going to get all lovey-dovey with Estella.

  "Hey, Inca. Hey, crybaby."

  I muttered a hello in response, then busied myself with tearing chunks off my croissant. But I felt Crispin's eyes on me, and while Estella chatted about this and that, the pressure of his gaze weighed me down.

  Finally, what felt like hours later, I risked a look up at him, and our eyes connected.

  Estella's arm was slung around his neck, and she practically sat on his lap. Rage and jealousy exploded in front of my eyes, and I fought the urge to scream, instead keeping my gaze focused on Crispin's, challenging him to say something.

  He didn't. Instead, his lips stretched into a smirk.

  "I have to go," I muttered, grabbing my water bottle. "I'll see you later, Estella."

  "Oh, okay." She seemed surprised but didn't try to stop me as I packed up my things and left the cafeteria.

  Nobody did.

  Chapter Ten

  Tinsley

  "This is so exciting," Estella whispered in my ear. "I can't wait until your turn, babe! You're going to kill it."

  “Hey, can I ask you something?” I mumbled.

  “What?” She didn’t even look at me, her eyes focused on the cheerleaders.

  “Your friendship bracelet.” I motioned to her wrist. “You aren’t wearing it.”

  “Oh.” She twisted her arm, blushing when she realized I was right. “Sorry. I must’ve taken it off and forgot to put it back on.”

  “You’re not supposed to take it off. See? Mine’s nearly falling apart already.” I laughed.

  “Don’t worry babe,” Estella said. “We can get new ones. Maybe something from Tiffany’s?”

  "Maybe," I muttered. "Look, I think Inca's going u
p next."

  We shifted our attention to the blonde, who now stood nervously in front of the crew of cheerleaders who scrutinized her with every glance. Poor Inca. She visibly shook, obviously uncomfortable with the situation she'd been put in.

  "So, your name is Inca?" one of the cheerleaders purred, giving her a sugary sweet smirk. "What makes you think you have what it takes to join the Kitty Kats?"

  "I... um," Inca started, staring at Estella across the room. "My friend encouraged me to try out."

  She looked at Estella, and the head cheerleader, Harlem, followed her gaze to where Estella and I were standing.

  "How sweet," she said in that saccharine voice that made me think she was up to no good. "Now Inca, can you tell us a bit about yourself?"

  "Well, I'm a freshman," Inca replied. "I'm here at Wildwood on a scholarship."

  Harlem nearly retched at that. I could tell she didn't like it, that she patronized Inca, the girl being painted in a different light almost instantly. I knew this wasn't going to end well, and I glanced at Estella to see if she'd gotten the same feeling. But she seemed oblivious, her eyes still fixated on our friend, sticking two thumbs in the air like she was cheering her on.

  "Show us what you can do," Harlem waved her hand, Inca now nearly forgotten as one of the other cheerleaders turned on the music, and a pop song reverberated through the gym.

  But we were all in for a surprise. In a matter of seconds, Inca started dancing and stretching, and I could tell right away just how talented she was. She moved effortlessly, her body flowing with the music easily, hips swaying with the melody, and the entire time, a smile on her face that lit up the whole gym.

  A couple of minutes later, when the song ended, a loud applause echoed in the room, accompanied by a few woos from Estella and me. Inca came to a stop, a little out of breath but her face beamed with pride.

  "That was actually surprising good," Harlem told her. "Thank you for coming. We'll post the members who got in on the bulletin board in front of the gym tomorrow. Who's next?"

  Estella pushed me forward, and I blushed as I came to stand in front of the cheerleaders.

  "I can go," I muttered.

  Harlem didn't even look up from her notebook, where she was still jotting things down from Inca's performance.

  "Name, age, and music choice, please," she told me without so much as giving me a glance.

  "Tinsley Sullivan," I started, my voice shaking. "Seventeen..."

  "Tinsley?"

  Now I had her attention.

  Harlem lifted her head, the sugary smirk replaced by a colder grin. "Ah yes, I heard you were coming today," she purred. "But the girls and I have been talking, and we're all so excited about having you on the team, we want to save the best for last. You don't mind if you go last, do you, Tins?"

  I didn't like the way she'd used my nickname as if we were friends when we barely knew each other.

  "Sure," I muttered, going to stand by the side again.

  "I can go next," Estella called out, coming to stand in front of the girls and leaving Inca and me standing by the wall.

  The blonde and I exchanged glances, sharing a rare moment of camaraderie. We were both visibly uncomfortable, but at least Inca had aced her try-outs. I hadn't even had my turn.

  We watched Estella perform, and just as expected, she was perfect. The cheerleaders, most of which she was friends with already, all clapped and cheered for her, putting a bright smile on my friend's face. They'd practically promised her a spot on the team already, so she needn't worry.

  She joined us, and we watched a couple of other girls try out. By then, mostly everyone had had their turn, and people were starting to leave the gym, leaving just a few of us waiting around.

  Inca excused herself, telling us she needed to be home early, and took off. I liked it when it was just Estella and me, but this time, she spent most of the time on her phone, furiously texting someone.

  Finally, she raised her eyes to meet mine again, a guilty look crossing her features as she leaned over to whisper in my ear. "Babe, would you mind if I left a bit early?" she asked me in hushed tones. "Crispin wants to meet up, and I really don't want to say no..."

  "I, um..." I thought about the possibility of facing the other cheerleaders alone. That notion alone scared me. "Do you mind if I just come with you? I don't really want to do this alone."

  "No," she exclaimed. "Please don't go. It would be so so much fun if we could all be on the team together; don't you think?"

  "I guess," I muttered, feeling guilty for even suggesting I leave. "You sure you can't stay?"

  "I just don't want to blow Crispin off so soon," she said, biting her plump bottom lip. "Call me once you're done though?"

  "Of course," I muttered, and she pulled me in for a tight hug.

  If she noticed how fast my heart was beating, she didn't mention it. She squeezed me, then grabbed her stuff, and she was out the door before I could ask her to stay again.

  I felt miserable, spending the next hour and a half watching girl after girl try out for the team. The number of people in the room dwindled, with more and more girls finishing their auditions and leaving right after. I tried to convince myself it would be better if I was last in line because it meant only the current cheerleaders would be there to see me fail. But instead, I felt more and more threatened, knowing I'd have to go up and dance in front of them without any backup.

  It took over two hours until all the other girls were done, and even then, Harlem didn't call me up to start. The cheerleaders were giggling, comparing notes, and completely ignoring me even after everyone else had left.

  I knew I had to say something, but I felt too shy. It took me a few excruciating moments to gather enough strength to get up and approach them. "Hey, I was just wondering..." I started, but Harlem interrupted me by putting her hand in the air, without so much as giving me another look.

  "We're still talking," she said coolly. "If you could just give us a few more moments, please."

  "Of course," I muttered, stepping back to the side.

  I felt humiliated and angry. All I wanted to do was go home and forget any of this ever happened, but I was too scared to say anything in front of them.

  Quietly, I grabbed my bag, getting ready to leave the room, when Harlem appeared in front of me out of nowhere.

  "Oh," I laughed nervously. "I'm sorry, you startled me."

  "We're ready for you now," she said with that oh-so-sweet and so-very-fake grin from before. "If you could get started soon that'd be great. We got you an old cheering uniform to put on as well."

  "Oh?" I raised my eyebrows, glancing at the pile of clothes in her hands. "I— Okay. None of the other girls put them on."

  "Because we only save these for the really special girls." She winked at me.

  That short sentence was enough to make me feel included, and I found myself beaming from ear to ear. "Wow, thanks," I muttered, taking the clothes from her.

  "You can change in the locker room," she said. "Leave your bag here, we'll watch it for you."

  "Sure," I smiled, heading to the girls' locker room with my heart beating even harder.

  Once I was in the bathroom, I quickly changed into the uniform they'd given me. It didn't take me long to realize the clothes were tiny, much too small for my frame. The skirt barely covered my butt, and my boobs strained against the tight fabric over my chest. I just hoped my panties weren't showing under the skirt, inwardly cursing myself for putting on my biggest pair of undies that morning. On top of that, I was panicking because the uniform barely covered anything. Finally, I decided to put on a long-sleeve tee under it, to cover up things I didn’t want them to see.

  "Tinsley, come on out," Harlem called out. "We're waiting."

  Laughter followed, and I allowed myself to get excited, even if I didn't make it on the team. It was so nice to feel a part of something. Like I belonged. I felt so much better already.

  "Coming!" I called out, gathering my clothes
and heading for the door.

  I'd left my bag in the gym like they'd suggested, and the rest of my clothes in the bathroom. My phone was still with me though, stuffed in my bra.

  I snuck another look at myself in the locker room's full-length mirror. The skirt was really on the short side, but I looked okay if you ignored the round cheeks of my ass peeking out under the skirt. I made my way to the gym, opening the door wide and stepping out on the hardwood floors.

  The paint hit me in waves of purple and blood red. I was soaked in seconds, and I screamed out loud, the paint dripping into my mouth, in my hair, all over me. "What the hell?" I cried. "What is going on?”

  But all that greeted me was the sound of their laughter. I heard the doors opening, standing there soaked to my underwear in the sticky paint as Harlem appeared in front of me, her eyes glinting with meanness.

  "That's what you get for messing with our golden boy," she told me with that saccharine grin. "Don't you ever think about fucking with Wildwood boys ever again."

  I whimpered when she spun on her heels and left me standing there. I tried to run after them, but I was stuck on the spot, thick, greasy paint weighing me down and dripping down my face. I heard the gym door lock behind them, and I realized I was alone. And also, very much fucked.

  My hands shook as I walked over to the gym door, leaving a puddle of paint wherever I stepped. I tried the handle, but the door was firmly locked. By then, the paint wasn't the only thing burning my eyes, and I knew I was going to start crying in a matter of moments.

  Okay, Tinsley, think. There had to be a way out of here.

  The first answer that came to mind was to call the cops. But what the hell was I supposed to tell them? And how would I go back to school the next day? Everyone would hate me even more than they already did.

  With shaky hands, I tried to pull my phone out of my bra. It was covered in paint, a big purple smudge across the screen making me wonder whether it was even still functional. With shaky hands, I wiped the phone on the one spot of my borrowed uniform that wasn't soaked in paint and tried to unlock my phone with trembling fingers.