Low: A Dark High School Bully Romance (Suffolk Academy Book 1)

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Low: A Dark High School Bully Romance (Suffolk Academy Book 1) Page 4

by Lilah Walker


  “I told you, but I thought you weren’t hungry,” Katelyn teases me.

  “This, I can eat,” I say, stuffing more chicken into my mouth.

  “Well, get used to it—delicious food will always change your stomach’s mind,” she says, slicing into a piece of her own chicken breast.

  ∞∞∞∞∞

  By the close of school on my first day at S.A., I have a hint of an idea of what to expect for this new school year. At least I can say it will be an interesting year.

  Minus the attack in the hallway from Lowell Bartlett, I actually enjoyed my first day. Katelyn seems to be a cool friend to hang out with at school. Already, I’m looking forward to tomorrow taking my mind off of my mom’s disappearance.

  “How was your first day at Suffolk?” Grandma Judith asks as she drives me home.

  For a second, I think about playing it cool and keeping up the morning’s attitude, but decide it doesn’t make sense. If Mom calls, she’ll get the attitude. Grandma Judith isn’t the one who upended my life, though, and when I consider what she spent to allow me to go to S.A…. “It was cool, Grandma,” I admit. “The school is beautiful, like you told me. I’m still settling in, but I like the place already. Thank you for sending me there.”

  She smiles over at me, nodding like she knew all along I’d feel this way.

  Seeing how carefree she is now compared to earlier, I promise myself I won’t be so mean to her anymore. My school day wasn’t so bad, and I made a friend. Plus, I really do appreciate them paying so much for my last year in high school. I don’t want to make her uncomfortable by talking about money, so I can’t exactly say ‘Thank you for paying a shitload of money for this place,’ but I can show her my thanks by earning good grades and being a decent granddaughter.

  I also won’t tell her about the physical incident with Lowell Bartlett. After everything she’s dealt with today, in my mom up and disappearing on us, I refuse to upset my grandmother any further on my first day of school. I’m not a baby, after all. I’m almost an adult, and I’m from New York City, for crying out loud. I can handle myself.

  “So, it’s no longer So-fucked Academy?” she asks.

  I grin back at her. “No, Grandma, just S.A.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  LOWELL

  I nod to the waiter that the steak is cooked the way it should be. It had better be, considering how much my dad is shelling out for this dinner out. Celebrating the first day of school—what a joke. He just likes parading me and my friends in front of his work buddies, and letting us flirt with the female clients to get them to shell out more money.

  Still, it’s worth this dinner. I trade looks with Alec and Myles as my dad drones on about the cocktail party he’s taking us to later on. “Drinks and women,” I mouth to Alec, and he grins back at me around his steak.

  “Classes go alright today?” my dad asks then. “No hiccups in the lives of the golden boys?”

  I cut another piece of my steak and shake my head. “All is well, Dad.”

  “Thanks for the dinner,” Alec adds, gesturing with a piece of rare steak that cost well over a hundred bucks. His voice is sincere, and he looks like the poster-boy for S.A., but I know what he’s doing—he’s just paving the way to wheedle out plenty of alcohol and introductions, come our next stop.

  Myles echoes him, and then asks about tonight to prod my dad back to his favorite topic of discussion—himself—and that allows me to go back to my favorite new topic of thought.

  Aleta.

  As soon as I saw her today, I was picturing what it would feel like to touch her. To have her submit to everything I can imagine for that sweet body of hers, and those lips….

  I don’t know how much lip gloss she put on those pouty lips of hers, but they’re something else. And I love the fact that she wears her make-up natural. Not like the girls at school who are working overtime to look like thirsty trash on social media. No, Aleta’s something else. And even with that idiot Giraffe telling her to back down and pay attention to who she was talking to, the girl still had attitude in her eyes.

  Maybe she shut her mouth, finally—when I made her—but I could see that pride in her that I’d just love to break.

  I can already see myself wrapping my hand into her thick brown hair and controlling her every move. Making her kiss me. Making her do anything I want her to.

  It’s going to be a good year.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  T he rest of the night flies by pretty fast. Homework took barely any time at all, and before I know it, I’m joining Grandma Judith in the kitchen to help her with dinner. It’s weirdly comfortable—nothing like the frenetic meals Mom and I so often threw together at the last minute in New York.

  Despite myself, I think I’m beginning to come to terms with my life here.

  My brand-new life. My mom has eloped with her boyfriend, I have a new school to attend, and I’m living with grandparents who I’ve barely gotten to know over the years. And there are some good things to consider—the beach, for one, and the fact that this school’s name is going to look awfully good on college applications, even though it looks like the classes won’t be any harder than those at my last school.

  This lifestyle change might be a challenge, but not one that’s too difficult.

  Grandpa’s watching a football game by the time dinner is ready. The game just started, so he doesn’t mind coming into the kitchen to eat with us and take his medicine. Afterward, he remarks on how great the meal tasted. “You cook so well, Aleta,” he says in his crackling voice.

  I grin from cheek to cheek. “Thank you, Grandpa, but I’m not the cook. I only helped Grandma.”

  “I’m sure it’s your special touch that made it taste good.”

  I know he’s trying to make me feel better under the circumstances of my mom leaving me with them. And you know what? He may have achieved his aim for the day. I really do feel like I fit in here, despite Mom’s abandoning me and the fact that all this was so unexpected. When dinner’s over, Grandma gives Grandpa his medicine, and then I escort him back to the den to continue watching the game while she starts cleaning up the kitchen.

  “I can wash the dishes, Grandma,” I say to her, returning after making sure Grandpa didn’t need anything else.

  “No, you keep your grandfather company. There’ll be more dishes for you to wash in the future, and we’re so glad to have you here, this’ll be nice for him.”

  Gosh, they’re being awfully nice to me. I can’t imagine how I’d feel in their place, but I’m thankful for it. I go over and give Grandma a quick side-hug. “Alright, I’ll take you up on that,” I tell her, and then I leave to rejoin Grandpa before she can go mushy on me.

  “You watch football?” Grandpa asks as soon as I sit down.

  “I do,” I promise, already sizing up how these teams are looking this year. These aren’t teams I’ve followed, but football is football.

  “What about basketball?”

  “Sometimes? It’s interesting enough if the players are good.”

  “That’s great. Do you play, too?”

  I smile before answering, wondering if he’s noticed how short I am. “No, definitely not.” And regardless of my height, as much as I enjoy watching basketball, I’ve never wanted to play the sport. Just from what I’ve experienced in gym classes, I consider it too physical and fast-paced. Swimming and track are more my speed. I don’t want to run and struggle with other people physically.

  “Do you want me to get you a coach?” Grandpa asks next, and I have to look at him for a second to see if he’s joking.

  He sounds and looks serious. I already know he can afford to get me almost anything I want, but a private coach? Maybe my grandparents really are just excited to have me, like they’ve been saying. Still, I don’t want to learn to play basketball.

  “No thanks, Grandpa. Maybe I’ll think about that sometime later, but not now.”

  With that, he starts giving me a run-down on the teams playi
ng tonight. Clearly, he’s a real sports enthusiast. He makes several comments about how good a player’s moves are, and which quarterback has the upper hand tonight.

  “Did you play football when you were younger?” I ask when he pauses for breath.

  “I did, Aleta, and they say I was pretty good with my hands! I met Judith at one of my games. She was so carried away with my skills, she didn’t even realize she’d fallen for me when all of a sudden she was marrying me!” he says chuckling.

  “Yeah, you were my charming young man and you still are,” Grandma Judith says, walking into the den.

  I laugh with them, and then Grandpa asks about my first day at the new school. I tell him the same thing I told Grandma earlier on the drive home.

  “I was really hoping you would like it, Aleta. You just had to open your mind.”

  “You were right. And, thanks for everything, Grandpa. You, too, Grandma. I know this was all unexpected…but I really appreciate it.” I turn my eyes back to the TV, having said what I needed to. Mom turned their lives upside down, I’ve already cost them their guest room and a ton of money, and they’ve been nothing but kind. I just need them to know I appreciate it.

  It’s around ten when my grandparents tell me they’re retiring for the night. I turn off the TV about five minutes after they leave and head to my own bed. Drifting off to sleep, I push thoughts about my mom out of my mind.

  CHAPTER NINE

  G randma drops me off at school again, although I wanted to walk. I want to have a feel of the area that only walking can give me. Yet, she’s said repeatedly that it’s too far to walk, especially in the Florida heat. This isn’t the way it was back in New York. There, I walked everywhere. Mom tried to give me a decent life, as much as she could, but dropping me off at school would have been nothing short of pampering. It just wasn’t necessary.

  Still, I figure I’ll get my chance to walk home at some point. Grandma says she’s glad to allow me to have friends drive me home, and Katelyn offered yesterday, so I expect that that’s going to be the plan soon enough. Once the afternoon heat wears off, I’ll take my chance to walk.

  I meet Katelyn in the hall leading to our first period class. She practically runs over to hug me, and I wrap my arm around her shoulders in return. A moment later, she’s introducing another girl that’s just strolled up to us. Her name is Ariel. She’s in the same first-block class, but didn’t make it in yesterday. Her family recently returned from a trip to the Bahamas, so she couldn’t make it to school until today. She’s Katelyn’s friend already, and she just might become my friend, too, I hope.

  I spy Lowell sitting in his corner the moment we get into the classroom. He isn’t paying attention to anyone. He’s got his head buried in a book. Just the sight of him makes me remember what he did to me yesterday, though, and I can’t help praying there’ll be no repeat episode.

  Nearly as soon as I sit down beside Katelyn and Ariel, I realize I’ve accidentally put my papers for this class in my locker, so I hurry back out and down the hallway. I get back even before the teacher has shown up, but when I return to my seat, I notice a few girls looking in my direction with upturned lips.

  What did I do to them?

  Some of these people are so weird. I guess it’s the way of the rich, trying to size me up as the competition. Well, maybe it’s news to them, but I don’t care. Opening up my text as the teacher walks in, I put the smirking girls out of my mind—because I never try to compete with anyone. It’s not worth the stress.

  Schoolwork begins fully with the second day of school, and teachers’ high expectations are on full display. The system of teaching here differs from what I’m used to. Mostly, the teachers come in, present from PowerPoint slides as we follow along, and then offers us some time for questions. There are no notes or writings on the board. Everything’s in a digital format, showcasing how rich the student body and academy are. Each student has a screen attached to their desks that displays the same thing the teacher has on theirs.

  The teachers upload the documents for each class to the school’s server, and only print out the materials they want us to fill in during class or for homework. Then, the materials are all available for each student to access for each school day. For ease, they compile every class on every subject into separate folders.

  Back where I came from, the teacher sometimes used slides in teaching, but then the students just took notes. The schools couldn’t afford to provide a digital device for every student. Most of us didn’t even have internet at home to get the homework done, so digital files didn’t make sense.

  Despite the difference in school systems, the teachers here are as good any I’ve had. I guess It’s natural to expect the very best teachers here with all the money being paid out.

  As the day goes on, I understand almost everything they include in their lectures. Their explanations are thorough, too. They attempt to dissect topics in the simplest ways they can and then ask challenging questions. I have no trouble figuring them out, and truly believe I won’t have any academic problems here.

  I’m determined to keep a low profile, though. So, when the teachers throw questions, I don’t volunteer answers, despite knowing the answers to almost every single question asked.

  My third class is World Geography. I not only understand the topic, but I love it, unlike the other classes I’ve got. The problem is, it dashes my attempts to stay quiet and go unnoticed. Just as the class is about to end, there’s a question about the path of the Rhine River and what part it played in the World Wars.

  The smirk on my face gives me away. He points at me to answer the question—and he’s right. It’s always fascinated me how geography affects history, and I could answer this question in my sleep. For the few microseconds I take to gather my thoughts, I consider giving the wrong answer. But then, I quickly remind myself there’s nothing to fear here. I have to make my name in this school—to teachers, at least—without fear of being bullied by Lowell.

  Thoughts gathered, I give him a perfect explanation worthy of any essay question on an exam.

  The teacher grins and nods, and I can tell from the looks on kids’ faces that they’re glad I had the answer—so that they didn’t have to come up with it, maybe. I’m pleased with myself, too.

  This is my other class with Katelyn, and we’re sitting next to each other once again. She taps a pen on my desk to catch my eye, and then mouths the words, “Good for you!”

  No pushover in this class. And the truth is, my friends in New York would be proud of the way I’m holding my own amid all these rich kids. I might have more readjusting to do, but I’ll be just fine here.

  The end of the class block signals the start of the lunchtime period. It sounds like there are some nearby lunch spots we’re allowed to walk to, but Katelyn and Ariel want to go to the café again, so I tag along.

  I didn’t realize you could move a chair to a different table until Katelyn pulls an extra up to a two-seater table like the one we sat at yesterday. I order glazed carrots and teriyaki chicken wings. Katelyn and Ariel choose different menu items.

  “You are really making some waves in your first days here,” Ariel says as she sips her strawberry lemonade.

  “What?” I ask, scrunching up my nose.

  “Heard you were hot with the answers in class yesterday. And Katelyn just mentioned what you were like in your World Geography class. It won’t take a lot of time before you become a genuine force in our class this school year. Are you aiming for Valedictorian already?”

  “That’s not my plan!” I quickly reply. The last thing I need is for the students here to think I’m out to steal their senior year’s top honor.

  “So, what is it, then?”

  “I just want to go to school, have a few friends, and graduate so I can go to college.”

  Ariel raises an eyebrow like she doesn’t quite believe me. “Hmm. That sounds like a proper plan. But you should be aware, Aleta, in this school, there are a lot of cliques and
groups. When you’re in the top ten, that’s the best of the best, and that’s what everyone wants at S.A. If you keep making ground like this, they’ll come for you…hard. You can be sure of Lowell, at least. He’s the—”

  “She already knows about him,” Katelyn cuts in, having been silent until now. “He came for her yesterday after Mr. Alfred’s class. He had a creepy death stare on his face. I don’t think I’ve seen it before. I thought they knew each other from somewhere.”

  Ariel shakes her head and focuses back on her food as she answers, “There you have it. I didn’t even know that. See, they’re all about protecting their fucking status at this school. Nobody does that better than Lowell.”

  Releasing a sigh, I stare at them over our meal. I’m not as worried as I was yesterday, but I’m starting to wonder if this is going to be an ongoing theme of the schoolyear. “Ariel, do you actually think I have to worry?”

  Ariel gives my question some thought before speaking. “Well, you don’t have to worry. However, you have something he wants.”

  Huh? “What do I have?”

  “I don’t know, Aleta. I can’t think of anything, but there’s gotta be something if he came at you that fast. He has enough money to buy everything in the world. So, again, no need to worry, but he does want something, so he’s gonna mess with your head.”

  I glance at Katelyn, but the look on her face tells me she’s inclined to agree. Still…. “Are you sure about that?” I ask. It just seems too weird to be true.

  “Yeah, of course!” Ariel leans back in her seat. “He only bullies to cement his superiority over people. He doesn’t really harm a thing except for self-esteem, but he can be cruel. And for him to even be on your case this early, there must be something special about you. Maybe—”

  “There’s nothing special about me,” I say, cutting her off.

 

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