Havoc at Prescott High

by Stunich, C. M.

  “A deal's a deal,” Vic agrees, straddling his bike. “Get on, and let's go.”

  Vic takes me back to Aaron's house and then has some sort of caucus in the front yard with Callum and Oscar.

  “What happened to Don?” I ask Hael because I feel like he's the most likely to tell me the truth. “I have a right to know that, don't I? I mean, this is my deal after all. This time, I'm the goddamn client.”

  Hael raises a brow as the sound of little girl giggles drifts down the stairs toward us. The three of them are upstairs with Aaron, dressed in sparkles and glitter, playing some sort of fairy-tale game where Heather is the knight and the other two are damsels in distress. I'm glad to see my little sister playing the role I always wanted for myself.

  “Vic hasn't told you?” he asks, and I shake my head. “Your friend Donald was expelled from that fancy school, along with several friends of his. Several other girls came forward with the same story you told. He's being investigated by the DA.” The edge of Hael's sharp mouth curves up in a not-quite-smile. “Nothing'll ever come of it, I bet. That's what happens when you have money the way he does, but Vic says we can go for him again once we get his inheritance. Then we can fight on the same level.” My mouth parts in surprise, but I do my best to hide the reaction. “Anyway, we broke a dozen bones that'll never heal right. That face isn't so pretty anymore.”

  “You guys really are thorough, aren't you?” I ask, and Hael shrugs. Loose, cocky, uncomplicated. Not like his idiot boss. He's chomping at the bit to fuck you over the hood of his Camaro. Have at it. Right. And what would Vic do if I took him up on that offer? “What's the story Donald's telling now?”

  “Dunno. Don't care. Just so long as nothing comes back on us.” Hael's phone rings, and he glances at the screen with a tightness in his face I haven't seen before. He just seems to swagger through life, uninhibited, careless. When I lean forward and catch a sneak peek at his screen, I see that double-edged sword of a word again. Mom.

  “You don't like your mother?” I ask, and Hael glances up toward me, his face hardening. “Do you like yours?” he retorts, and I shake my head.

  “You know all about my mother,” I tell him, remembering that night we spent together in the homeless shelter. I was so scared, but Hael wasn't. He covered both our heads with his blanket, wrapping us up in our own private cocoon. Don’t be scared, little bird, he’d said, smiling a gap-toothed smile at me. We can tell stories until the sun comes up. I remember thinking he was the bravest, most beautiful person I'd ever met. “But all I know about yours is that she has a problem with prescription drugs.”

  “Mm.” Hael ignores the call and tucks the phone away, lifting his chin in my direction. “How was breakfast?” He sweeps a tattooed hand over his red hair, studying me with eyes the color of honey and almonds, brown with a hint of gold.

  Chomping at the bit, huh? I lick my lower lip, the temptation and the challenge of getting Vic's best friend in bed warring with my sudden and desperate need to be alone. I've been alone most of my life, and this whole Havoc thing … it comes with a lot of togetherness.

  “Breakfast was a nightmare. Vic fingered me under the table while at the same time confronting his mom about her underhanded bullshit. Also, her new boyfriend is a total sleaze.”

  Hael's brows go up, and he smirks.

  “Well, okay then. Sounds like a typical Havoc sort of breakfast meeting. Why is he all stormy and sulky and shit then?”

  “He fingered me and then refused to let me touch him,” I say, staring intently at the coffee table and wondering why I'm spilling all of this information to Hael. Finally, I look up. “Can you take me to the drugstore? I need to get a morning-after pill, and I don't have any money.”

  Hael looks at me and then nods slowly.

  “Yeah, okay.” He stands up just as the front door opens, and Callum, Oscar, and Vic walk in.

  “Where are you two headed?” Oscar asks casually, and I get the idea that it's his job to keep track of everyone on a daily basis. It's not a casual question. Hael and I are not going to walk out of here without an explanation. “Off to the drugstore to get a morning-after pill,” I say blandly, shrugging my shoulders. “Victor came inside of me yesterday, and I'm not about getting pregnant.”

  “Fucking Christ,” Vic snaps. “I'll take you.”

  “I'd rather go with Hael,” I say, putting my hand on the cocky asshole's arm. “Is it okay if Heather stays here while we're gone? Shouldn't be long.”

  “You're too much, Bernadette,” Vic growls, stalking past me and disappearing into the dark hallway that leads back to what used to be Aaron's parents' bedroom.

  “You like pushing his buttons?” Callum asks, chuckling, that rough voice of his soothing in a strange sort of way. It's like, he's internalized all his shit, and the only time it ever comes out is in an ambient sort of darkness in his voice. “That's a risky ballgame. You've got big ovaries, Bernadette Blackbird.” With another burst of laugher, Cal slips past me and into the kitchen.

  “Don't stay gone long. We have projects to work on.” Oscar's eyes catch on mine, these gray shadows that terrify me even more than the endless black of Vic's irises. “And only two days off of school to do it in.”

  I move past him and head outside, beyond grateful to find a bit of peace in Hael's car.

  “Aren't you dating some girl from Fuller High?” I ask, and Hael shrugs. It's neither a yes nor a no, but I'm too pissed off to care. If he has a girlfriend, that's his problem. Thursday means getting back to school, walking up the front steps of Prescott High and knowing that I'll be navigating a minefield of social politics. “Bet she’s a hot piece of ass, for you to cross the Fuller-Prescott line for her.”

  Hael laughs, this loud, braying sort of sound that I actually kind of like. It’s an uninhibited, wild kind of laugh.

  “That’s pretty much all she is,” he says as he pulls into the parking lot of a nearby drug store. I figured he’d idle in the lot while I ran in, but he turns the engine off and pockets the keys, glancing over at me as rain spatters the windshield in big, fat drops. “I’m pretty sure I hate her. Maybe I’ve always hated her?”

  “You screw people you hate?” I ask, and he cocks a brow at me.

  “You slept with Vic.”

  He has a point.

  Instead of answering, I smile and push open my door, heading out into the rain and ducking into the front entrance. The place smells like bleach and everything is too white and too sterile. For a moment, I just stand there, wondering where I’m supposed to go and what I’m supposed to do. It’s not like I’ve ever needed morning-after pills before.

  “You’re right,” I say as Hael comes to stand beside me, a sea of color in an otherwise colorless building. “I hate Vic.”

  Hael works his jaw for a minute, like he’s thinking about something, and then gestures with his chin toward the back-left corner of the store.

  “Come on, little bird,” he says, and I bristle at the nickname, following along behind him. I don’t need a guy to tell me about morning-after pills; I have Google. I try to surreptitiously pull out my phone to do some quick research when Hael grabs my hand and yanks me along after him. “Ahh, here we go.” He pauses in an aisle filled with tampons and pads on one side, condoms and lube on the other. “Here we go. You have a brand preference?”

  “Fifty bucks?!” I choke, grabbing one of the boxes with my mouth hanging open. “For one pill?!”

  A couple holding hands starts down the aisle toward us and then pauses, looking unsure.

  “Oh Shnookums,” Hael says, pulling me into his arms and nuzzling my ear. My entire body lights up with flame, even as my muscles stiffen up and my fingers clench tight around the box in my hands. “It’s okay. I’m a gentleman. I always pay for emergency contraceptives after coming in my girl.” He pauses and glances over like he’s just seen the other couple. “Oh, don’t mind us. We’re just grabbing supplies for our next fuck-fest.”

  The couple makes a very ha
sty exit as Hael chuckles, and I elbow my way out of his arms.

  “Seriously?” I ask with a dramatic eye roll, putting the box back and selecting a slightly cheaper generic version instead. Thirty-five bucks. Vic better reimburse Hael for this. “Alright, let’s go.”

  Hael plucks the box from my hand, puts it back, and then grabs four of the expensive name-brand pills.

  “Just in case,” he says, lifting them up. “And then because you two are idiots …” He grabs a box of condoms next, hesitates for a second, and then snatches some lube. “Alright, let’s go.”

  “I can make my own healthcare decisions,” I growl as I follow him down the aisle. Hael pauses and lets me catch up, raising his eyebrow again.

  “Okay, Blackbird. You don’t want this stuff?” He holds it out to me, and I frown.

  “I’m not paying you back for any of it. This is Vic’s problem.”

  Hael chuckles and shakes his head at me, heading for the front counter and tossing the shit down on it like he’s not at all ashamed to be spending more than two hundred bucks on sex paraphernalia. The woman behind the counter blushes and bites her lip in his direction.

  “He’s seventeen,” I tell her, and she quickly drops the flirty act, ringing the items up as Hael glances over at me and narrows his brown eyes.

  “Thanks a lot, Blackbird.” He grabs a water bottle from the cooler next the counter and adds that to our tab.

  “You’re welcome,” I tell him with a sharp smile, collecting the bag and heading for the door with Hael on my heels.

  “Did you know in some states, they won’t let people under eighteen buy morning-after pills without a prescription? Like for real. That’s some psycho Handmaid’s Tale bullshit right there.”

  “How do you even know that?” I ask as he unlocks the doors, and a pair of Fuller High girls waltzes by, looking him up and down. Good lord. I’d hate to go out in public with Hael on a regular basis. He gets plenty of attention, and returns it right back, tossing a wink their direction before he finally climbs into the Camaro.

  “I know all sorts of fun things,” he says, looking over at me with heavy-lidded bedroom eyes.

  “Vic says you’re eager to fuck me over the hood of your car,” I say, and Hael lifts both brows this time. “Is that true? Because he basically ordered me to have sex with you.”

  “He did?” Hael asks, sounding a bit perplexed. He blinks at me and the bedroom eyes fade. “Huh.”

  “Huh, what?” I ask, feeling my skin get hot and itchy as I pull out one of the boxes and the water.

  “Nothing,” Hael says absently, gunning the engine and drawing every eye in that parking lot. The women are lusting after Hael, the men after the car. It’s pretty pathetic. But I can't say I totally blame them. It is hot. The Camaro, I mean, not the man.

  When we get back to the house, Vic is smoking weed outside with Cal while Aaron entertains the girls and Oscar sits perched on one of the chairs in the living room, fucking with his iPad. Always with the damn iPad.

  He glances back at the two of us, gray eyes sharp. He doesn’t miss a thing, this guy.

  “Did you get the pills?” he asks, and I frown. It’s not really any of his fucking business, is it? “And did you take one?”

  “None of that is your business or your choice,” I snap back, my fingers curling around the handle of the bag. Oscar adjusts his glasses and smiles at me. It’s not a very nice smile.

  “Not my choice, no, but my business, yes. A baby complicates things.”

  “You know what would complicate things?” I ask, stepping forward and dropping the bag on one of the side tables. Aaron and I once carved our initials on the underside with a pocketknife. His mother was furious when she found out, even though you can’t see it unless you get down on the floor. “If I kicked your ass and choked the life out of you a second time.”

  Oscar’s face darkens, but before he gets a chance to reply, the back door is opening and Vic is stepping inside. He’s goddamn huge, and not just physically. His personality and presence takes up the entire room and sucks the air right out of me.

  “What the hell is going on in here?” he asks as Callum slips past him, grabs that black bag of his, and slips right back out. He winks at me before he goes, and I frown, wondering where the hell he’s off to.

  “Oscar thinks it’s his business whether or not I got the pills and whether or not I take them.” I lift my chin up, expecting resistance, but Vic just sighs and gives Oscar a look.

  “Leave her alone,” he says, and although the words sound tired, the order is there. It’s not a fucking request. Oscar grits his teeth and stands up, reaching up to push ebon black hair from his forehead.

  “It’s not often we have two days off during the week. I say we take advantage of it.” Oscar looks at me like he wishes I’d keel over and die. Hael just whistles under his breath and slips past me, heading for the kitchen to grab a beer. “Let’s go get the wedding dress.”

  “The wedding dress?” I ask, feeling my stomach dip. “I …” I have no good excuse to get out of this. This is what I signed up for, isn’t it?

  “Do it,” Vic says, closing the sliding door and locking it. “Let me get changed first.”

  “You can’t pick out the dress with me,” I scoff, feeling my palms get sweaty. “It’s bad luck.”

  “Bad luck?” Vic echoes, and Oscar smirks, noting his boss’ discomfort and probably enjoying it, too.

  “Bernadette is right. It’s bad luck to see a bride in her wedding dress before the wedding. I’ll take her.” Oscar tucks the iPad under his arm. “Assuming she won’t try to choke me while we’re out.”

  “Don’t press your luck, and I won’t have to,” I retort, crossing my arms over my chest and returning Oscar’s hard stare.

  “I really can’t go?” Vic asks, looking confused as fuck. He glances between Oscar and me, his gaze lingering on my lips. I wet them subconsciously, and he closes his eyes. Maybe, like me, he’s thinking about our quickie and wondering what it’d be like if we both gave in, if we took our time. “Fine, what the fuck ever. I want this wedding done right. Go.”

  He opens his eyes again and looks right at me, but I can’t hold his gaze. When I do, I feel my armor start to break apart, and all these little worries and fears and wants and desires begin to creep in and tease my aching flesh.

  “Let’s go,” Oscar says, giving Hael’s beer a look. “Give me your keys; I’ll drive.”

  “Don’t you fucking scratch that fresh paint,” Hael warns, but he hands over the keys to his precious Camaro like it’s nothing.

  I consider saying goodbye to Heather, but then I hear her faux screaming something about dragons and decide to let her be. Sometimes, you just want to be left alone inside your fantasy.

  I fully expect our ‘shopping’ trip to take place in a trailer full of stolen goods, much like it did when we went to get the luncheon dress. Instead, Oscar takes me to a proper bridal shop. I end up standing on the sidewalk outside the doors, soaked in sweat and shaking with nerves.

  This is a job, I tell myself, but like the sex with Vic, it doesn’t feel that way at all.

  “Problem, Bernadette?” Oscar chides, standing next to me and smirking in that irritating way of his. He’s of the devil, I’m certain of it.

  “No,” I snap, more for my own benefit than for his, and then I push in the front doors, a small bell tinkling happily as I move across the shiny wood floors and pause in a sea of white. Why do people get married in white again? Oh, that’s right. It’s supposed to denote virginity. I have to hold back a snort of nervous laughter.

  “Don’t worry about the price of the dress,” Oscar says, leaning down and putting his lips awfully close to my ear. His breath feathers against my skin, and I shiver. He barely spoke to me on the way over here, and I get the feeling he doesn’t like me much. “Just pick something that calls to you.”

  “Calls to me?” I ask as a perky sales attendant in a khaki skirt and pale pink blouse flounce
s her way over to me. Her smile is practically plastered on, but I can see it straining at the edges as she takes in the pair of tattooed kids in her shop, undoubtedly here to waste her time.

  “Hello there,” she says, never allowing her professional façade to drop, despite the fact that she’s certain we’re not going to buy anything. “Can I help you with something?”

  “We’re here to get a wedding dress for my lovely companion,” Oscar says, placing his hands on the small of my waist and making me shiver. I can feel each one of his fingertips pressing into that tantalizing bit of bare skin between the bottom of my shirt and the top of my jeans. “She’s a size eight in commercial clothing. Thirty-eight, twenty-eight, forty measurements.”

  I grit my teeth and resist the urge to elbow him in the stomach. I have a feeling that if I do, we'll throw down, and I'm not ready to throw down in the middle of a bridal shop.

  “Well, I'm here to help. Are we looking for an initial consult or—”

  “She knows what she likes, and we need to find a dress today,” Oscar says, down to business as usual. The woman turns her attention to me and folds her hands in front of her khaki skirt, seemingly unbothered at being interrupted. I’d have punched Oscar in the balls for that.

  “What sort of styles are you into, honey?”

  “The most expensive ones,” I say, and Oscar lets out a low laugh as the woman tries to keep smiling through my deadpan disinterest.

  “Sure, of course,” she says, blinking through her confusion. Have to give her credit though. She was born for customer service. “I'm Zoe, by the way. Just follow me.”

  “Planning on re-selling the dress after the ceremony?” Oscar asks, and I shrug. No point in trying to hide it.

  “Something wrong with that?” I ask, but he just makes this clucking sound under his breath and releases me, leaving these little warm spots where his fingertips pressed into my skin.

  We follow after Zoe to the back corner of the store—probably to get us out of view of any other customers that might happen in—and she shows me a rack of dresses wrapped in plastic.