Trick Me Twice: An Enemies to Lovers High School Bully Romance

by Becca Steele

  Once we’d done that, we climbed back into my bed. He didn’t attempt to hold me or anything, but he lay on his side facing me, every now and then running his hand through my hair or down my arm as we talked. We were exchanging inconsequential information, but the fact he was staying and talking to me filled me with hope. Hope that maybe there could be something more between us, something real.

  When I could no longer keep my eyes open, I felt a soft kiss on my head, and then he slipped away.

  Hope was a dangerous thing, as I soon found out.

  Everything had changed, but nothing had changed.

  26

  Monday morning, I woke at 5:30 a.m., after a restless sleep plagued by nightmares where I was being chased through the halls of Alstone High by a masked figure, who turned into a clown when it caught me. Eventually I gave up on sleep and made my way downstairs, where I downed a huge mug of coffee, hoping it would at least wake me enough to allow my brain to function properly. By the time Lena picked me up, my caffeine high had faded and I was yawning again.

  At school we split up so she could head to her locker, and I made my way to mine in a daze, not realising that the hall had gone silent until I was standing in front of my locker.

  I suddenly became aware of people’s stares prickling the back of my neck. Reaching up to the fingerprint sensor on my locker, I paused, my eyes flying upwards. I sucked in a shocked breath, staggering back against the wall, trying to take in the scene in front of me. Painted in savage black slashes, the word “slut” had been sprayed in capitals across my locker door. And taped right at the bottom was a printout of a photo. Slightly grainy, but clear.

  Me, reclining backwards on the desk at the warehouse, covered in paint with my top ripped in half, exposing my bra, and Carter, with his head between my legs. Above the image someone had written in black marker pen “Football team slut scores again.”

  No.

  My hands shaking, I ripped the photo down from my locker, crumpling it in my hand, and made a run for it. Straight into the library, where I hid myself in the furthest alcove and finally let my tears free.

  I didn’t know how much time passed, but eventually my tears stopped. Wiping under my swollen eyes, I breathed deeply in and out, trying to regain a semblance of calm. Then, I did probably the worst thing I could do. I opened my phone to the AHS gossip account.

  My fears were proven correct. The image was there, too, plus another of me kissing Carter. The accompanying caption said:

  RAINE LAURENT HAS BEEN A BUSY GIRL. LOOKS LIKE THE FOOTBALL TEAM SLUT SCORED THE ULTIMATE PRIZE - THE TEAM CAPTAIN. SHE’S BEEN HARD UP FOR CASH SINCE HER UNCLE LEFT, SO THE QUESTION IS, HOW MUCH DID HE PAY HER?

  I couldn’t even bring myself to look at the comments. My stomach rolled with nausea, followed by outrage. As if Carter would ever need to pay anyone for anything sexual. Why was that my first thought? The second thing that crossed my mind was the fact that the room we were in had been locked. Which meant that someone had planned this. Had Carter planned it? But why would he implicate himself? He was always careful never to be seen with me around school. But who else would have a reason to do this? One thing I was sure about though—whoever was targeting me, and whatever reason they had, I knew it had to have something to do with Carter.

  There was only one thing I could do. I needed to confront him.

  I made my way through the silent hallways, back to my locker. Staring at the huge word “SLUT,” I steeled myself, and then I opened the door. Inside, everything was untouched, which I was beyond grateful for. Now I just had to make it through the rest of the day, and I could escape. This was going to be painful, though.

  The sound of heels on the floor alerted me that I wasn’t alone. “Ah, Raine, there you are.” I turned around to see Mrs. Rushton, school secretary, standing behind me with a folder clasped in her hands. “The headmaster would like to see you in his office, please.”

  My stomach sank. This had to be about my locker.

  As I followed her in the direction of the office, I felt a prickling sensation down my spine. Someone was watching me.

  When I turned around, there was no one there. The hallway was completely silent and empty.

  Hurrying to catch up with Mrs. Rushton, I brushed it off as my wild imagination. After everything that had happened at the party, and my subsequent nightmares, it wasn’t really a surprise that I was so jumpy.

  Seated in a buttery-soft leather chair, I looked across the large mahogany desk at Professor Sharpe, attempting not to let my nerves show. The one and only time I’d been in the headmaster’s office was after my uncle had divorced my aunt, and there was a question of how my remaining school fees would be paid. Thankfully my uncle had come through in the end, although he was going to be washing his hands of me once the school year ended, which meant relying on student loans for my university education. I still felt the sting of the betrayal, that he’d thrown a twenty-year marriage with my aunt away for an affair with his work colleague, and had moved in with her at the first possible opportunity. His new family was his priority now, and he’d essentially lost all sense of responsibility towards me. My aunt had been devastated, but lately, she seemed herself again. And I actually had Carter’s parents to thank for that in part, because they’d been there for her while she picked up the pieces.

  My thoughts returned to the present as Professor Sharpe cleared his throat, eyeing me carefully from behind his glasses. He was a tall, imposing figure, with grey, swept-back hair and a permanently severe expression on his face. Today, though, his eyes were full of sympathy as he looked at me. He cleared his throat. “Miss Laurent. I have been made aware of your…situation. Here at Alstone High, we have a zero-tolerance policy regarding bullying. Can you give me the name, or names, of anyone you believe may be behind this?”

  I couldn’t. Because I didn’t know. And even if I did, giving him names would only make me more of a target. There was no winning in this situation. “I-I’m sorry. I don’t know.”

  A huff of disapproval came from his mouth before he cleared his throat again. “I see. Rest assured, your locker will be back to normal by lunchtime today. If you have any inkling of who may be involved, or if you have any other concerns, my door is always open. I will not allow my students to be harassed within these walls.”

  “Thank you, sir.” I gave him a small smile, which I hoped was believable, although I had the feeling that it was more of a grimace.

  He nodded, dismissing me. “That’ll be all. See my secretary on the way out, and she will give you a slip to excuse you from your missed class.”

  As I made my way to my class, my stomach churned. Everything was spiralling out of control in my life, and it all led back to one person. Carter Blackthorne.

  27

  Everything in my head was so fucked up. What I’d done with Raine, both at the party and afterwards, had been completely unplanned. That wasn’t what was fucking with my head, though. Sex had always been about mutual pleasure, but there had never been a connection like the one I’d felt between me and Raine. And afterwards I’d had a sudden, instinctive need to take care of her. I wanted to stay with her, to make sure she was okay. That wasn’t something I’d ever experienced before. If I was honest, the whole thing had left me shaken.

  Fuck. Between my dad banging on about her all the time and making me resent her, all the shit that had happened so far today, and my now almost uncontrollable want for her, I was beyond confused.

  “Carter?” I looked up from my tray of food, and there she was, clutching her books to her chest, biting her lip as she looked down at me. I felt everyone’s stares flying between us both. The increasingly hostile looks Ana and her bitch posse were throwing at her, the football team’s curious glances, Xavier’s knowing expression, and the weight of the stares of the students at the surrounding tables. All of this registered in an instant.

  The gossip about her was already rampant. She didn’t deserve any of this. Who knew what other shit
people would make up about her next, if I gave her my attention?

  “What makes you think you have the right to talk to me?” I spoke without meeting her gaze, unable to look at her.

  A pained hiss escaped her lips. “I-I just…”

  “Whatever it is, I’m not interested.” I affected a bored tone, rocking back in my seat and stretching my legs out in front of me.

  “You think because you whored yourself out to him, you have the right to be here, at our table?” My fists clenched at the sneering question from Tina, one of Ana’s friends. Fuck, I needed to punch something. “Listen up, hun. People like us don’t mix with people like you. Now, why don’t you run along to your little chess club, or wherever your people hang out?”

  Raine’s soft gasp fucking pierced straight through me, and I physically winced.

  “Drama club,” Anastasia muttered from next to me.

  “Okay, fuck off to your little drama club.” Tina tossed her hair over her shoulder and made a dismissive motion with her hand.

  “Hey, I’m in the drama club,” Xavier pointed out. He glanced in my direction, and I could feel the “what the fuck” look he was boring into the side of my head.

  Tina huffed. “Whatever.” She turned back to Raine. “Since you seem to like being on your knees… If you’re still hard up for cash, I heard the school is looking for a new cleaner.”

  Everyone else remained silent, waiting to see what I was going to do, ready to follow my lead. Raine remained frozen in place in front of me, and I raised my gaze to hers, finally. The pain and sadness in her hazel eyes almost caused me to falter. Almost. I couldn’t let people know how much she meant to me. Fuck, no. She didn’t mean anything to me. She couldn’t.

  I was only fooling myself.

  The connection between us sparked to life, as she begged me with her eyes to acknowledge it, to tell her she wasn’t alone in this, to back her up. I took a deep breath and made myself hold her gaze as I forced the words from my lips. “Go, Laurent. Whatever you have to say, I’m not interested.”

  She stared at me in shock for a moment, before I tore my gaze away, unable to look at her any longer. “You really are a heartless bastard, aren’t you? Fuck you, Carter. And your friends.” Her words were spoken with anger, but her voice trembled. Fuck. I didn’t look as she spun on her heel and walked away.

  “Harsh, mate,” Xavier commented in a low voice, and I sighed. Yeah, it was really bloody harsh, but I’d been there this morning when she’d found her locker. She hadn’t seen me, probably too in shock to be aware of anything much around her. But I’d seen that look of total devastation on her face, how she’d crumbled and fled. I’d been listening to the whispers about her all morning. I hoped she understood that I’d pushed her away to protect her. Despite my fucking confusion about my feelings towards her, I didn’t want her to be hurt anymore because of me.

  It was better this way.

  What I needed to do was to get Anastasia to admit what she’d done and make her pay. I knew she was the one behind it, but I also knew her well. And she wouldn’t admit it unless she stopped seeing Raine as a threat.

  On that note, I stretched my arm out along her chair, and she leaned back with a smile. I suppressed the urge to remove my arm and instead pretended I was interested in her superficial chat, while my thoughts were miles away, with a hazel-eyed girl who’d rocked me to my fucking core.

  28

  Kian’s wide grin distracted me from my thoughts at football practice. Today was the first day he’d been allowed to start training with the team again, although he was still suspended from the matches for now.

  “Want to come over to mine for the soccer game on Sunday?” Preston asked as we stretched out our hamstrings, warming up for training drills. “My parents are out of town.”

  Kian shot him a dirty look. “It’s not fucking soccer, it’s football!”

  Preston grinned at him unrepentantly, and after a moment, Kian cracked a smile, too. “What am I going to do with you?” he muttered, shaking his head.

  “Enough talking! Three laps around the field, then cone drills. Go!” Mr. Anders, our football coach, shouted before blowing his whistle, and we took off running.

  “What’s going on with you and Raine?” Kian was jogging next to me, front of the pack, setting the pace as we rounded the first corner of the field, the grass spongy and damp under our feet.

  “Nothing,” I barked out.

  “Didn’t look like nothing. You want her?”

  I stumbled, then regained my footing. “Fuck, no.”

  “It didn’t seem that way at the party. I could tell you were really into her. What was with you icing her out earlier?”

  My stomach flipped. My feet kept moving on autopilot, but my whole body was tense. “What? It meant nothing. I’m not interested in her.”

  “Chill, mate. It’s no big deal if you are.” He increased his pace, and I matched him. “But if you’re not…you don’t mind if I ask her out, then?”

  The memory of him chasing her at Fright Night flashed through my mind, and I saw red. “She’s not yours!” I shouted, my words torn away in the wind, and then I leapt on him, my fist flying at his body. He reacted straight away, punching me in the ribs. We skidded across the wet grass, falling to the floor, pummelling each other. Arms pulled us apart, and I heard the sound of the coach’s whistle.

  “Kian! Carter! See me in my office right now! The rest of you, carry on doing drills!”

  He stormed off to his office, and we followed him in. We both stood there, letting him rant and rave, his face red with fury. Eventually, he calmed down.

  “Kian, you’re already on thin ice as it is. I agreed to let you start training again, and this is what happens your first day back?”

  “Sorry, Coach.” He tried his best to sound contrite, but the thing about Kian? He really didn’t care.

  “Carter, I expect better from you. You’re the team captain. You’re supposed to be setting an example for the others.”

  “Sorry.”

  “Both of you, get out of my sight, and sort out whatever shit it is you’re fighting about.”

  I headed back outside, dropping onto the bench next to the field, putting my head in my hands. Everything was unravelling. Between all the shit with Raine and my parents constantly on my case, my head was a fucking mess. The pressure was getting to me, and now I’d taken it out on one of my best mates.

  “Here.” I looked up to see Kian holding out a bottle of water.

  “Thanks.” I took it, and he dropped onto the bench next to me.

  “Sorry, mate. I was just trying to wind you up. I didn’t realise you liked her that much.”

  I looked over at him in shock. “I don’t like her.”

  He snorted. “Yeah, sure, if you say so.”

  “I don’t.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Fuck you.”

  He laughed. “Whatever. No hard feelings, yeah?” He held out his hand and stood.

  “Yeah. Sorry. I didn’t mean to jump on you like that. Today has been fucked up.” I shook his hand, then unscrewed my water bottle. My head was so messed up. Fighting with Kian over Raine? Fuck.

  Kian stared down at me, serious for a moment. “She seemed really upset earlier at lunch.”

  She was. I needed to make things right with her. Now. While she was in drama club and Ana wouldn’t be around to see. The last thing I wanted was for her to have another reason to target Raine.

  Before I knew it, I’d downed my water, and I was jumping to my feet and striding towards the school building.

  “Say hi to Raine for me!” Kian’s mocking laugh came from behind me, and I threw up my middle finger as I walked. Bastard.

  Back in the school building, I eased open the auditorium door, sliding inside the darkened room. Up on the stage, Xavier was somehow managing to make an ugly as fuck costume look like custom tailoring, owning the stage, as Imogen watched him longingly. They seriously needed to stop fucking
around and sort their shit out.

  Where was Raine? I scanned the room, but I couldn’t see her.

  Then, there she was. I spotted her over in the wings, peering out. Moving closer, I kept my gaze on her.

  She disappeared off the side of the stage, and I turned, opening the side door that led to the fire exit and side entrance to the backstage area. Backstage, a few people were sitting around in costume, and they gave me curious looks as I stalked past them. I ignored them and entered the room where the props and costumes were kept. I found her hanging a costume on a rack. Her eyes were rimmed with red, and her mouth was downturned. I’d done that to her. How many times had she cried after I’d taunted her?

  I was a fucking asshole.

  “Raine,” I breathed, and her head shot up, her eyes widening as she saw me standing there.

  “No,” she whispered, her lip trembling. “No.”

  Then she darted away, through the costumes. I almost laughed. Did she think she actually had any chance of getting away from me?

  “You can run, but you can’t hide,” I called, following her into the racks. I heard footsteps over to my left and spun, striking as she attempted to run past me. Gripping her small body tightly, I wrapped my arms around her, holding her back to my front and moving her over to the table that stood at the end of the rack. She fought against me, but I held her easily. I wrapped my hand around her throat, squeezing lightly.

  “Caught you.”

  “Fuck. You,” she cried, still struggling, even though her eyes had darkened. As much as she didn’t want to admit it to herself right now, she loved it when I had my hands on her like this.

  “Raine. Stop fighting me.” I stroked my fingers across her throat, and she whimpered, before clamping her mouth shut. “I want to say something important.” Biting her earlobe gently, I felt her growl against me, her nails raking over my football shirt. I waited a minute, letting her take out her frustrations, because, fuck, it was the least I deserved, before turning her around and lifting her onto the table. “This is important,” I reiterated when her eyes finally met mine.