Trey folded his arms. Courtney cocked out her hip. My monarchs had spoken. Guess I’ve got no choice. My hand trembled as I inserted the key into the lock. It took me three tries to get it to turn. Trey’s cruel eyes crawled up my back.
The room was dark when I stepped inside. I fumbled along the wall for a light switch and flicked it on.
The room wasn’t as bad as I expected. In that, it contained a bed with an actual mattress and not one of nails or a torture rack. Two beds, in fact. I must have a roommate, judging by the clothing hanging in the closet and books already stacked on one end of the desk.
A really boring roommate. Apart from the books and a small pink ribbon tied around the iron bedpost, there was no sign of personality in the room. No pictures on the walls, no books on the nightstand or band stickers on the binders. Nothing to tell me who I’d been stuck with.
“Let me guess,” I said dryly. “Scholarship students are on this floor?”
“Suites go to the students who can afford them. My parents already pay enough to charity cases like you – they’re not going to deprive my trust fund just so you can enjoy luxuries you didn’t earn.”
“What do you mean?” I said sarcastically. “This is the ultimate luxury. I’m used to living in the gutter, remember. You telling me the dungeon was occupied?” I surveyed the bare walls and the single tiny window. It really did look like a prison cell.
“I wouldn’t make suggestions you don’t want to come true,” Trey growled. Courtney tossed her hair over her shoulder and wrinkled her nose.
“I’m bored, Trey. And the damp down here is flattening my hair. Let’s go.”
Trey followed Courtney to the door. What are you, her lap-dog? I wanted to say, but I bit my tongue.
“Wait, you’re supposed to show me where my classes—”
The door slammed shut behind me. Guess I’ll be finding my own way around. I sat on the edge of my bed, turning my hand over and running my finger over the small raised stain on my skin, the only reminder of the burns on my hands. As I touched it I could almost feel the heat on my skin, the pain of holding fire in my hands paling in comparison to hearing my mother’s screams. I dug my nails into the palm of my hand until the pain cut through my nerves and I could breathe normally again.
Don’t let them bother you. They’re just basic bitch bullies. You’ve dealt with bullies before, and these ones don’t even have knives.
Why did they need knives? Trey Bloomberg had money and power and he had the top position in the class list, the position I needed to get a good scholarship. He didn’t need a blade to cut me down.
“Ouch.” My voice rang in the empty, cold room. I stared down at my palm. My nail had cut through the skin, and I’d drawn blood. Droplets of red pooled in my palm.
A rush of relief hit me. The pain drew me back to the present, reminding me that I was here, that I’d already survived the worst thing that could possibly happen to me. Nothing Trey or his minions can do to me will ever hurt me like losing Mom and Dante…
I turned away, looking for something to distract me. My suitcase lay on my bed, the zippers pulled open.
I flipped open the lid, and my heart thudded in my chest. Someone had riffled through my things, unfolding the clothes, tearing open the side pockets, unscrewing the lid from my dread wax, scrunching up my underwear. Someone touched my underwear.
Hang on. I don’t see the journal—
Panic rose in my throat. I tore through the case, strewing my clothes around the room. Please let it be here… please…
But it wasn’t. I tipped the entire case upside down and turned the pockets inside out, but it wasn’t there. Someone had taken my journal.
“No.” I blinked back tears. That woman with the grey uniform must have gone through my case when she dropped it off here. She was probably looking for contraband.
But that journal wasn’t contraband. Apart from my phone, it was the most precious thing I owned. I knew the school didn’t allow outside stimuli like computers and phones and magazines, but surely, a book of scribbles and drawings wasn’t going to harm anyone.
I slumped down on the bed. A single tear spilled over, carving a salty trail down my cheek. I wiped it away angrily. Another tear followed, and another.
I’m supposed to be strong. But I don’t know if I’m strong enough for this school.
More tears fell. I didn’t wipe them away. I let them drop onto Dante’s tank. The tiny dots of liquid would remind me that crying was a sign of weakness, and I couldn’t show any weakness here, not in front of Trey or Courtney or Quinn or any of the other monarchs – and certainly not in front of my roommate, whoever that was. This might be the only private moment I had left.
The springs sagged under my weight, poking into my thighs. Behind my head, a faint scritch-scritch sounded inside the wall. Which was weird, because the walls looked to be solid stone, but I knew that in old places like this there was often a gap between the walls for drainage. Probably just rats. How lovely.
Scritch-scritch. Scritch-scritch—
Creak!
The door swung open. My chest tightened as I turned toward it. What now?
Chapter Three
I expected to see Trey in the doorway, gloating over the tears streaking down my cheeks. Instead, a short girl stood in the hall with her mouth open in shock. Her dark skin glowed like ebony beneath the fluorescent light, and she wore her frizzy hair in a bob cropped close to her head. The expensive tailored uniform of Derleth clung to her like a sack. Deep brown eyes widened as she took me in. She looked like she was about to keel over with fright.
If this girl had spent the day dealing with Trey and Courtney and their cronies, I couldn’t blame her for being afraid. At a guess, I’d say I was looking at my roommate. I stood up and offered my hand. “Hi, I’m Hazel. We’re gonna be sharing a room until one or both of us is eaten by the rats in the walls.”
She didn’t react to my joke or even take my hand. She remained rooted in place, her right foot shuffling backward as though preparing herself to make a run for it. Her bookbag slid down her shoulder and dropped to the floor. “I… I didn’t know I was getting a roommate.”
“The second bed didn’t give it away?” I grinned to show I was kidding. This girl was gonna have to get used to me mouthing off, because I was like Niagara Falls when I got going. A constant stream of filth you couldn’t shut off.
She still didn’t move from the door, rocking her weight to her back foot. At any moment I expected her to spring away like a deer. I tried again. “As I said, my name is Hazel. Hazel Waite. I’ve come up from Philly. I won the Derleth scholarship, although I’m starting to doubt that it was actually a prize worth winning. It took them a while to track me down, which is why I’m late starting.”
“I won a Derleth scholarship, too,” she blurted out in a thick accent. “My name is Loretta Putnam. I’m from Louisiana.”
“Hey, Loretta Putnam from Louisiana. You can come in, you know. I won’t bite.”
She winced. I wondered if my choice of words was triggering, given all the talk about ‘new meat’ from Trey. I bet he gave her the same treatment when she arrived at school.
Without turning her back on me, Loretta skated around the edge of the room and perched on the corner of her bed. “You should run away while you have the chance.”
“It’s tempting, but nah. I got nowhere to run.”
She nodded. “Yeah, me neither.”
“You an orphan too?” My boots clattered against the bare floorboards as I kicked them off and folded my legs underneath me.
She nodded, but didn’t volunteer any more information.
“Loretta, I don’t know if you’re aware, but this is the part of the conversation where we bond over our mutually fucked up pasts. You want to elaborate on your story there?”
She stared at the floor, forcing out every word like it was a battle. “My mom died when I was three. My dad was never in the picture. I’ve been living with my grandparents, but…”
she trailed off, her features going blank as she shut down. Whatever it was that filled in the blank at the end of her sentence, it was clearly so traumatic for her that she couldn’t speak it aloud.
“That’s cool,” I shrugged, giving her the chance to focus on me instead. I wanted to ask her how her mom died, but she clearly wasn’t up to talking about it, even though it was so long ago. Does it really never get better? “I was raised by a single parent, too. My mom was a stripper, and I guess sometimes she did… other stuff. My dad was one of her clients. He doesn’t even know I exist. It was just Mom and me against the world until two months ago, when she was killed in a house fire along with my best friend. I dropped out of school to get a fake ID and work a couple of shit jobs so I wouldn’t have to go into foster care, but these bozos found me, so I guess I wasn’t very good at hiding.”
It seemed impossible, but Loretta’s eyes widened even further. “You could go back. Just walk out the gates and go back to your jobs.”
“Nah.” I shrugged. “I’m just going to tough it out.”
Loretta nodded, swallowing hard. “You look tough,” she whispered, staring at my scuffed Docs and ghetto outfit. For some reason I couldn’t identify, her scrutiny made me feel self-conscious.
An awkward silence settled between us.
Loretta wrung her hands together. I noticed her nails were ragged, bitten down nearly to the quick. I didn’t want to upset her further, but I was desperate for more information. “I am tough. I can show you how to be tough, too. How have your first three weeks been? What’s the school like?”
She winced. “Bad. Who did you get as your student hosts?”
“Trey Bloomberg and Courtney Haynes.”
Loretta winced again. “I’m sorry. They’re the worst.”
“Really? They seem like such lovely people. I think we’re gonna be BFFs.” I held up the top of my suitcase. “Did you go through this? A woman in a grey smock took it from the car. Supposedly she also delivered it here, but someone’s gone through it and taken something of mine.”
She shook her head. “Anyone wearing grey is building staff. They clean the rooms and maintain the grounds. I haven’t touched your bag. I haven’t returned to the room since breakfast. One of the teachers probably searched it.”
“They did more than search it. They stole something. I understand if I packed a bottle of liquor or a t-shirt that said ‘Derleth Academy Sucks Balls,’ but my friend’s journal is missing.”
Loretta gave a faint smile at my joke. “A journal? Why did you bring something like that?”
I lifted up one of my boots to show her the gaping hole in the sole. “I couldn’t exactly afford to rent a safe deposit box.”
Loretta took in my outfit with her wide, terrified eyes, as though she was only seeing my clothes for the first time. What are the chances it’s that I’m just too amazing to take in all at once? “You have to change. You can’t wear that to the dining hall. They’ll crucify you.”
Ah, so not amazing, then.
“They’ll literally hang me on a cross with nails through my hands because I’m wearing these pants?” I lifted an eyebrow as I tugged on the drawstring waist. I’d like to see them try.
“You met Courtney Haynes. Her mother is the designer Gloria Haynes. Tillie’s dad makes gold watches for the super-rich. Amber’s parents are in men’s fashion. People at this school really care about fashion. Please, wear your uniform,” Loretta crossed her arms. “Or I can’t sit with you.”
“Jesus fucking Christ.” I flipped open my suitcase. “It’s like I’m living in a bad teen movie. Here, look.” I threw off Dante’s tank and tugged on the starched white shirt. Loretta ducked as my pants flew at her head. I deliberately misbuttoned my blazer and struck a model’s pose. “How do I look? Like the next valedictorian of Derleth Academy?”
That earned a derisive snort from Loretta. “You’re never going to catch up.”
Her comment confused me, but then I realized she must be talking about the class list. The first quarter started three weeks ago (Derleth used a quarter system instead of two semesters, because they were super rich and could do whatever the hell they wanted, I guess?). Luckily, I hadn’t missed any major tests or assignments, but I’d have to put in some long hours at the library if I wanted to stay on track academically.
“So I have to study a little harder.” I shrugged. “I have the time. Based off the warm welcome I’ve received so far, I’m guessing I’m not going to be inundated with social invitations.”
“It doesn’t matter how hard you study. I’ve been pulling all-nighters since I got here.” Loretta glanced toward the huge stack of textbooks on the desk. “I’ve had perfect scores on three pop quizzes, and I’m only up to 58 points.”
58? I remembered that Trey Bloomberg already had over eleven-hundred. “Do the points accumulate over years or something? I saw the list in the atrium. Some of the other students have quite a lot more than that.”
“They’re awarded points based on how much money their parents donate to the school,” Loretta whispered. “They get away with it as ‘service’ to the school, but really they’re buying their way to the top.”
“That’s not fair.”
“You have no idea.” A loud bell rang. Loretta jumped up. “I’ve got to go.”
“What is it now?” My hand flew to my pocket to check the time on my phone. Pain stabbed at my gut as I came up with thin air.
Loretta grabbed a book from her desk and sprinted for the steps. “It’s electives. If you’re still wearing your uniform, you can find me in the dining hall tonight.”
That’s right. I had to eat in the dining hall this evening. That sounded like torture. I guessed I couldn’t count on my student guides to show me the cool tables.
Loretta hurried off. Sighing, I smoothed down my tartan skirt, picked up a blank notebook, pen, and my room key. I guess it’s up to me to figure out this school by myself.
Chapter Four
Turns out I was right to leave my room. I needed the whole hour to find the dining hall. Derleth Academy was a labyrinth. Sometimes it seemed as if hallways changed places, or doors opened into different rooms than before. I walked up and down the dormitory wing, locating a laundromat, a long dark cupboard filled with starched linen, and a common room for seniors with a toaster and microwave ovens, designer sofas, and an ancient-looking vending machine. I started drawing a map in my notebook but I had to make so many crosses and corrections it looked more like a Picasso sketch.
As I stalked the classroom corridors, the bell rang again. I got swept up in a mob of students heading toward the dormitories. Bodies slammed into me, turning me around and crashing me about.
A rough hand grabbed me, pulling me out of the fray. Quinn’s emerald eyes met mine as he dragged me into an alcove – a brief respite from the crush of the crowd.
“Hello again, Meat,” he grinned, raking a hand through his hair. I wondered how he got away with keeping his hair long like that when I wasn’t allowed dreads. “I love your dreadlocks. Totally badass. Can I pull on them?”
I shook off his arm. “Why are you talking to me? Didn’t Trey forbid it or something?”
“Trey’s only one of the Kings at this school. He’s not the boss of me. Where are you going? You looked like you were trying to swim against the tide out there.”
Quinn watched me with interest. Unlike his buddy Trey, he didn’t seem outwardly hostile. He was clearly one of those guys who was just out for a good time. I’d even consider going there – he looked so delicious, all surfer hair and soft puppy eyes and that heart-melting smile. But there was something in the upward tug of his mouth that told me I’d better watch him, that his indifference could be just as cruel as Trey’s malice.
“I was trying to find the dining hall and my classes for tomorrow,” I rolled my eyes. “My student guides haven’t exactly been forthcoming with information.”
“Allow me to escort you.” He gave a deep bow and held out hi
s hand, like a prince asking a princess for a dance at the ball. I guess he was a King, so I should be flattered.
“No thanks.” I wasn’t about to trust a friend of Trey’s, even one with surfer hair. For all I knew, Quinn would lock me in a closet somewhere and I’d miss dinner completely. As if anticipating that move, my stomach growled in protest. I shoved off the wall and launched myself into the cascade of students.
Quinn yanked me back again, wrenching my arm nearly out of its socket. “You don’t want my company?”
“Not really.” I rubbed my shoulder. “I would like my arm back.”
He dropped my arm. “Too bad. I just saved you from being crushed, and now you owe me a favor. Two favors, actually, since I saved you twice.”
I rolled my shoulder in circles, trying to get feeling back in my arm. “You just jerked me around like a dick and probably pulled a muscle. I’d hardly call that worthy of a medal, let alone a favor.”
“You think your favors are worth shit at this school?” he sneered, and a hint of that cruelty I knew he was hiding flashed in his emerald eyes. Dicksome as he was, he did raise a valid point.
“I’m just trying to get to the dining hall. Thanks for the shoulder injury.” I turned back to the hallway. The crowd had thinned a little. A group of girls stopped in front of the lockers opposite us. They kept darting glances at Quinn and me and giggling. Jesus, no need to act like total sluts. He’s not that good looking.
Okay, he was, but still—
“Meat, wait!”
I turned. I never should have turned.
“If I tell you where the dining hall is, what do I get in return?” Quinn waggled his eyebrows.
“I said forget it. I’ll find it on my own.” I shoved past him. I was able to fight my way down to a narrow corridor that led to a set of steps I hadn’t noticed before. There were no lights on in the stairwell, but they weren’t blocked off or anything. Odd. I wonder where these lead.
As I searched the walls for a sign or map, a familiar scritch-scritch noise sounded from behind the wood paneling. At least I knew the rats are everywhere. They weren’t something blocked into the basement walls for the sole purpose of terrorizing scholarship students.
Shunned: a reverse harem bully romance (Kings of Miskatonic Prep Book 1) Page 3
