Adrian

by Shel Stone

  Adrian sighed like she’d disappointed him. “Why do you always have to make everything so difficult? It would end this perfectly, all in a nice bow.”

  “It would never end.”

  And expression briefly worked through his features, but she couldn’t fully identify it. “We could be so good together.”

  “No, we couldn’t.”

  “Really? Because I have video proof.” He was smiling now, but not looking at her. “A hell of a lot of it.”

  “Are you saying you’re going to release more of it because I won’t sleep with you?”

  He snorted. “No, I am not going to release more of it.”

  “Good. So if you have any kind of goodness in you, please destroy it. It’s served its purpose. And don’t try to dangle it over me, because I’m not biting.”

  Cecily marched out of the library room and kept going. She’d showed her face at this fucking party, and had had a demented proposition by her nemesis. One she couldn’t even begin to wrap her head around. Her whole being was on edge and she just had to get out of there, not even bothering to tell anyone she was going. Right now, she just needed to be away.

  Chapter 25

  OKAY, IT WAS A LITTLE BIT evil what he’d just done, and he was both disappointed and not in how it had just gone. Cecily hadn’t budged. He’d offered her everything, including himself and she hadn’t budged. She truly was turning into a true opponent. One whose taste still burned on his lips—which related to the disappointed part. Physically he was disappointed, spiritually... elated would probably be the better word.

  We mark our enemies. Was that not how the saying went? And it felt as though he had just left a mark on the back of her neck. Now she had retreated, but she would be back. She wasn’t running away from the battle. They’d established that already.

  The moment she’d left, this party had completely lost its interest. There was nothing here now, except maybe to get drunk. Perhaps even think about what they’d be doing if she’d given in. Not that he was sorry. They’d get there in the end, somehow.

  *

  Adrian woke up in some kind of seedy apartment. There was dust on a wooden floor and the décor looked from the sixties. What the fuck had happened? He’d started drinking and hadn’t stopped. “Fuck,” he said as he rose. This had to be Seb’s fault as he loved waking up like this. Stiff from sleeping awkwardly and completely clueless about where he was.

  Finding the door, Adrian walked out and down what must have at some point been a tenement building, which meant he was in some part of the city where they still existed.

  Outside, the streets were busy, but he finally caught a cab. No wallet, no phone. Both had probably been stolen. His head pounded. There had been a strip joint, he vaguely recalled. That was all he remembered.

  The doorman had to pay the cab as Adrian got out. Sadly this wasn’t the first time this had happened, but it had been a while. His clothes were filthy and he groaned as the pressure in the elevator made his head hurt.

  It was the weekend, so his father was there when he walked in, looking disgusted and disappointed as he had so many times before. “Continuing your travails in being a complete wastrel?” Terence Morecroft asked, standing in his typical suit. What asshole wears a suit on the weekend? His father did, because he never stopped working. Working and fucking his mistresses. It was all the guy did.

  “I’m eighteen. This is what you do when you’re eighteen.”

  “This is what spoilt little boys do.”

  “As opposed to what?”

  “Getting your act together and stopping being such an embarrassment.”

  Really? Embarrassment? The whole fucking town was talking about how much money Terence Morecroft had lost, and he was the embarrassment? It wouldn’t do to say that to his father, because the irate, irrational bastard would come out. It was never wise to look under the hood with his father, because there was never anything good to see. Deal with him, and sooner or later, something nasty and vile would come out.

  Growing up, Adrian had adored his father, had wanted to be just like him. Brutal and cutting. That was how Terence Morecroft dealt with people, cutting down anyone who didn’t live up to his exacting expectations, including his wife and son.

  Not sticking around for a lecture on the minutiae of degrees to which he was useless and disappointing, Adrian walked to his room and closed the door. Alright, he felt disgusting. Dirty, and his clothes were even a bit sticky. Yuck.

  Undressing, he showered and then slept, knowing his father would be gone by the time he woke up, which was probably better for everyone involved. At times Adrian wondered if he should become a public school teacher just to piss his dad off. But he was so ill suited for it. As much as he hated his father, they shared DNA. More than either of them would like to admit. Nice and caring just wasn’t in his DNA.

  It was hard to guess the time when he woke, but it wasn’t morning. After a stretch, he grabbed his phone and checked on social to see if there was anything he needed to know. Mostly to see if anyone had caught Cecily somewhere during the party, but he was disappointed not to see her anywhere. Somehow she had slipped through the party unsnapped by anyone. Her profile had the annoying locked symbol on it, the one she wouldn’t let him pass, and he refused to be pathetic enough to scam his way in.

  There was however a photo of her and her friends at someone’s house from before the party. He stared at her smiling face for a while. He wasn’t quite sure what his next tactic was. Propositioning her hadn’t exactly been well planned out, a sharp turn in strategy that he couldn’t fully justify. His strategy had turned more to taunting her rather than merely wanting her gone. She had to be here for him to taunt her. And he wanted to see—he wanted access, but she kept him away.

  It was a shitty dichotomy because he wanted her to give in, but he wouldn’t respect her if she did. It wasn’t the sex, strictly, although it was there underneath everything, it was the want. He’d punished her for wanting him, for wanting what he offered her. Especially now after what he’d done. A girl who forgave that would literally let him do anything, as long as she got the benefits of being with him. Love didn’t exist—it was just another transaction. This whole fucking city ran on transactions. Sell your services, sell yourself—sell a belief or image or whatever fallacy that made people think they weren’t shit.

  Putting his phone away, he lit a cigarette and watched the smoke swirl in the air-conditioned space. He should go open the balcony door, but he couldn’t be bothered. The maids in the kitchen were likely swearing at him as the air-handlers spread the scent of smoke through the entire apartment.

  Discarded only a few minutes earlier, he picked up his phone again and scrolled through to the text menu. She might have blocked him on social, but he doubted she’d blocked good old-fashioned texts.

  If you were here now, I’d work you harder than anyone ever has.

  Anticipation soared through him, like an addict awaiting their next hit. Something about all this was very unhealthy, but there was no denying the rush of pushing her.

  It took a few moments until a text came back.

  Did you somehow screw up the footage you already have? Sorry, no redo’s.

  A smile spread across his lips and he put to side the cigarette in the brass bowl he sometimes used as his ashtray.

  Shame. You can’t deny that while you and me are opposites in so many things, when it comes to fucking, we meld like gold.

  How does it feel to fuck someone knowing you’re doing it to hurt them? she wrote back.

  Thrilling.

  You are one sick puppy. Don’t text me again.

  He knew she wouldn’t write back if he texted her again. Was probably finding some way of blocking his texts right that second. Might have to revert to pigeon mail if she insisted on blocking every way.

  What he needed was promotion. Cecily might not listen to anything he said, but she listened to her friends. It shouldn’t be hard to convince them of the ben
efits. Everything she was doing now was for the benefit of her friends. Well, he wasn’t entirely sure of her true regard for Mishti and Tory, but Morgan she would probably walk across fire for. Morgan was the one he had to work on.

  Exactly how, he wasn’t sure. They’d never really had a problem between them and all he had to do was convince her that there wasn’t a problem now. Somehow he had to convince Morgan that he was in the right and Cecily was in the wrong. Quite a feat considering this starting point, but it shouldn’t prove impossible. Maybe Audrina was the one to work through. Morgan’s loyalty was her main weakness.

  Chapter 26

  AT PARTICULAR MOMENTS, it was harder to brush off someone calling her a skank in the hall. Morgan was Cecily’s hero, and she was trying hard to just let this shit roll off her, but those in between moments, when she wasn’t guarded, a knife just snuck between her ribs and hit home. Cecily had firmly concluded she hated these people—hated this school. They were all spoilt brats without an ounce of brains in their heads.

  Even so, she refused to be chased away. At times the barbs hurt and she’d just had one of those unguarded moments when they had got to her. A sense of panic had closed in and she’d needed air, and had ended up skipping Chemistry.

  It was cold out, but a gorgeous day with the fall trees around. The sports field wasn’t actually large like she’d been used to in Switzerland, not that sports had ever really been her thing. But it was a place for a bit of peace and quiet, and she sat down on the edge of a planter box.

  “Hey, you alright?” a voice said, male. One she didn’t recognize. Turning she saw a guy wearing sweats. Blonde and cute. Blue eyes.

  “Yeah, fine. Thanks.”

  He had a bag slung over his shoulder and the school logo was on his sweatshirt. It looked like he was torn for a moment. Cecily smiled to prove her point.

  “You’re Cecily Chambers, right?”

  “Oh, you’ve heard of me?” she said sarcastically, feeling her guard go up.

  Swinging his bag down as if it was heavy, he sat down. “I’m sorry what happened to you. Morecroft’s a dick—he always has been.”

  Cecily smiled wanly, wishing this conversation was over. This guy wasn’t telling her anything she didn’t already know.

  “Mont,” he said, holding out his hand. “Monterey Gibson, officially.”

  His hand was warm and firm when she took it. “Cecily. Not sure I need to say more. You’ve probably seen me naked. Along with everyone else.” For a moment, he looked awkward, as if he didn’t know what to say. What was there to say? “And no, I don’t want to go on a date with you, or in any way come over to your place.”

  “Had offers, have you?”

  “Considerable. Assholes have a way of putting girls off guys, funnily. So if you’re thinking otherwise, you might as well move on.”

  “I wasn’t. Just thought you looked a bit lost and… low. I don’t know why I just said that. Maybe I just wanted to tell you that not everyone in this school think Morecroft’s stunts are funny.”

  Actually, he was the only person who had said so, other than her close friends. Most seemed to back Adrian up on his despicable bullshit.

  “I’ve known the guy for years, and I’ll be quite happy to see the back of him come the end of the year.”

  “You’re a senior?” Of course he was, Cecily chided herself. He certainly didn’t look like a kid. He was built. “You’re on the lacrosse team?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I hear you guys are quite celebrated in the school.”

  “The school does get behind us. I take it you haven’t seen one of our matches.”

  “I’m sorry,” Cecily said. “I grew up in Europe. It isn’t played so much. I think we met briefly at the very start of the year at some party.”

  A man came out of a door that she knew led to the gym. “Gibson!”

  Picking up his bag, Mont rose. “I have to go. It was nice to meet you--again,” he said with a smile. Perfect teeth, beautiful lips. Something inside Cecily melted as she watched him fling the bag over his shoulder and jog toward the gym and the man who’d called him. If she were to guess, it was the coach. They disappeared.

  Turned out it was quite uplifting having a nice talk with a cute guy. And from what he’d said, he didn’t appear to be a complete dick. Granted her instincts on that front were a little shot. But he’d effectively wiped the morose feeling away from her. Small victories should be celebrated, and now she wanted to know who this guy was.

  The bell rung and students filed out of everywhere as Cecily walked through the halls, her earphones squarely back in her ears. But there were cute boys in the world and that was a good thing, no matter what these horrid people said and did.

  Morgan arrived, coming from the opposite direction. She had new highlights in her hair and Cecily complimented them. “I talked to someone,” Cecily said with excitement.

  “Congratulations,” Morgan said. “By someone, do you mean a psychologist?”

  “No, a guy.”

  “Oh?” Morgan said, suddenly interested.

  “Mont. Do you know him?”

  “Mont the lacrosse player? Yeah, everyone knows him.”

  “He was cool. My ‘he’s a dick’ spidey senses didn’t go off. Tell me he’s not a total dick,” Cecily begged. “Because he’s hell cute.”

  “Isn’t this a turnaround?” Morgan said. “Your whole face’s lit up.”

  “It was just nice to deal with something other than the bullshit with… him.”

  “You know Mont and Adrian hate each other.”

  “How is that a downside? Probably why he didn’t buy Adrian’s bullshit. He even apologized for it.”

  Morgan’s head ticked to the side for a moment. “I mean he is single, but in a place like this, things get complicated.”

  “Complicated how?”

  “Well, he was going out with Emma Doral for like two years, and it just ended a few weeks back. Really good friends with Tilly.”

  Cecily listened. Of course things were complicated—they always were. “Tilly hates my guts anyway.”

  “You just have to know what you’re taking on, you know?”

  “I think we’re totally getting ahead of ourselves here,” Cecily said. “All I said was that the guy was cute.”

  “You could do worse,” Morgan said, taking a bite out of her wrap. “Out of the whole bunch of them, Mont’s decent, but there might be an issue of you coming in and stealing their men.”

  “You mean they’d make my life more uncomfortable than they already have? Why should I have any loyalty to them? I feel like some fries.”

  “Just like that and your appetite’s back, huh?” Morgan said with a smile. “Only place to get them is the cafeteria.”

  “Yes, the fucking cafeteria. Wait here, I’m going in.”

  “How did I not know that Mont’s cuteness was the elixir of life? I would have gotten him over here ages ago.”

  Cecily rolled her eyes as she threw a look back at Morgan. It was time she tackled the cafeteria anyway. Might as well do it on a day like this.

  Ignoring the nerves that rolled in her stomach, she pushed open the door to the cafeteria and walked inside. It wasn’t as if the whole room fell silent, but she wasn’t looking at people’s expressions either, probably likely to see disdain if she did. Remained absolutely blind to the corner of the cafeteria where she knew Adrian tended to congregate with his crew. Elsewhere, she saw the lacrosse players in their letter jackets. Didn’t seek Mont out, but she bit her lip as she saw them, then veered to the serving counter and picked up a tub of fries.

  No one spoke to her in line and she paid, then walked out with her head held high as if she didn’t have a care in the world.

  It was so nice to feel good for a change. It almost felt as if something had broken, as though she had truly accepted that there was life beyond this scandal—life with cute boys and open possibilities. It was weird how someone did this tiny thing for you and they
had no idea the impact they had.

  “That obviously went well,” Morgan said. “Or are you still all dreamy about Mont? Because, you know, don’t go nuts. Mont’s not into crazy girls.”

  “I’m just feeling good, that’s all.” Someday, all this nastiness would be in the past. In a sense, she could feel it slipping away and she was ready to let it go. But then there was Adrian, who seemed less than willing to let it go. What was his problem? He destroyed her and then he hit on her. There was something seriously wrong with him.

  Their little conversation at Finn’s party was something she’d kept to herself. Partly because it was embarrassing, but also, because she didn’t want to hear other people’s take on it. They hadn’t been there. They didn’t get the full experience and the last thing she wanted was for them to see it as their collective ticket to social success. Because there was definitely something off with his offer, something deeply not right. It was about control and submission, a new form of this war he had declared on her.

  And just like that, her good mood was gone. Adrian was like a dark cloud that settled ughness on everything.

  Chapter 27

  ADRIAN DIDN’T DO ART, but Morgan did, so he found himself in the art room, which always smelled weird with paints and clay. This really wasn’t his scene, and from what he’d gathered, it wasn’t Cecily’s either. Neither was sport, except for horses, which she had been into for a long time.

  Morgan sat at a table with a green surface, working on something as Adrian walked up to her. Turning, he leaned against the edge of it with crossed arms. A sigh escaped her as she looked up at him and then returned to her work.

  “What do you want, Adrian?”

  “Did she tell you I asked her to be my girlfriend? By the look of surprise in your eyes, I take it she didn’t.”