To Ensnare a Spider: A Contemporary Revenge Reverse Harem (Woodside Academy Book 1)

by Cleo Fox

  Not to mention with her being the current Governor of our state, she had eyes and ears everywhere telling her the happenings. I no doubt believed it would get back to her if one of them saw me eating at the food court.

  Lyric had gotten used to not asking if I wanted to eat something, but she was welcome to eat or get something to drink if she wanted it. Anyone looking in from the outside would think I was the one with the eating disorder and control issues, but if it were up to me, I’d have no problem eating everything in sight.

  I didn't care about my weight; I just wanted to be happy. It was my mother who had the issues. She needed control over every little detail about her food. Where it was sourced, how it was cooked, the exact weight of everything, and it couldn't exceed a certain small amount of calories a day. She hadn't always forced me to eat like her, to the point of being insane about it. But I had a theory my dad had something to do with that, and when he died, my protection from her went with him.

  Lyric glanced at Jason, who'd moved next to me to talk to his friends. I didn't care for Lyric, and I was certain she didn't care for me. But she would give me time to kill since I no longer did cheerleading.

  She nodded. "I have to. I'm the new head with you quitting this year. You know that." A frown pulled at her lips. "Why did you quit Senior year? This is your year to take it by the horns and show everyone the bad bitch you are."

  I didn't feel her words. She was saying them to try and empower me, but they lacked feeling.

  "Because my mom wants me to focus on my studies. My grades fell last year, and I won't get into an Ivy League. I have to do more studying, trying to avoid that. So, no sale?"

  It wasn't an entire lie. My grades were shit the year prior from juggling too much. My mother actually didn't want me to go to college. She had other plans that she deemed more important than college.

  But my mother didn't need to know my goals for escape. I had plans to make my grades better, getting tutors, and we could hide out at the library or something. I doubted anyone would report me to her for being there. They had no idea of her plans for me, and I would look like a good student and daughter getting a study session in.

  Lyric shook her head. "No sale. I can't. We have to set up cheerleader tryouts for the year and whatnot. But you go and find something cute."

  Well, I tried. I didn't have a tutor, yet, so I'd wanted to go out. But Mother would never be okay with me saying I wasn't home because I wanted to go shopping by myself. She only let me go out with Lyric because it helped me keep up appearances as her daughter.

  I would have to find a tutor or tutors. I hated admitting it, but I lacked in several subjects: Physics, Calculus, English, and History. Basically any of the ones that mattered. The only one I wasn't at risk for failing were the art program the school offered and PE. But it wasn't hard to keep from failing that one. A person just had to show up.

  My phone buzzed in my purse, and I took it out.

  Jason: What the fuck? Your mother doesn't give 2 shits about ur grades. I'll tell her u quit cheer.

  Jason sat next to me, phone under the table as he laughed with Brian and Jack over something stupid.

  I was ready for him and knew just where to hit so he would keep his mouth shut.

  Me: Are you really going to question a supreme's decision? She wants me to keep up appearances. Ivy League accepted daughter would look good for her, at least until we get married after graduation. I'll state then I've decided to become a wife and mother.

  I peeked out of the corner of my eye at him. He looked down, and a frown pulled at his lips for a millisecond before he covered it with another laugh at something Jack said.

  Jason: Fine. As long as u aren't serrius bout it.

  I couldn’t believe I was the one who had a D in English the year before. I had to work harder. I didn't care if I got into an Ivy League. I wouldn't even be applying to them. They had too many dark secrets and people my mother could potentially be tied to. I just wanted a small college or university far away from any influence my mother had.

  Me: I'm not.

  Closing out the text, I went to the app for the school where we could access forums and other things about what was going on around the place. It was massive with a few thousand students coming and going every year. There was bound to be some of the lower end financial kids looking for paid tutoring jobs.

  I never touched any of the money my father secretly gave me. A few thousand dollars for a handful of tutors during the year wouldn't diminish the couple million. I'd have a good portion to live on while at college before I had to find a job and rebuild it for the future.

  Going to the tutor section, there were a ton with different prices, from as cheap as five-dollars to a hundred-fifty an hour. I wanted someone who took themselves seriously, and for that reason, the higher-end prices looked more appealing. A headline caught my eye.

  Four Epic tutors for all your subject needs $150/hr/ea.

  I thought about the money that would cost over the span of the next few months as I got my GPA back where it needed to be, and retook my SATs. I tapped the headline.

  Do you need some serious tutoring all around? Hire one or all of the Four Epic tutors to help you in your courses whether you're a Freshman, Sophomore, Junior, or Senior. We have all your subjects covered from first to last year courses in English, Mathematics, Sciences, or Histories. Let us know what you're looking for and we'll assign our best tutor for you. Contact us here: Link

  It gave a link to a social media page and switched me over to my account. It didn't say who they were. Not that I would know. I barely knew the names of the people Jason had us hang out with. I didn't really care who they were, as long as they remained discreet and helped me. I tapped the message icon and typed out my message:

  Chanel Bishop: Hi. I need a discreet service and help in all the subjects. Let's meet at the Jacobson Library. It's practically dead there. I would need all the tutors and can transfer the money as soon as we have met and come to an agreement. 4:30 PM work for you?

  It was blunt, bossy, and arrogant of me to assume they could just drop everything to come and meet me. They could've had a ton of clients. But I also had to keep up appearances. The mega bitch of the school couldn't suddenly start acting nice without garnering rumors.

  A check mark appeared next to the message. It was a minute or two before they started typing a reply.

  The bell rang, signaling the end of lunch, and I sighed. Turning off my phone. I would have to see what they said after classes. Hopefully, it was yes. But I couldn't let the teacher see or hear my phone, or it would get taken away.

  Bon shrugged. "Do I look like the type of guy that follows rumor mills? I don't know. I wouldn't even know how to find something out like that. I just said someone should, to knock them down off their pedestals. I didn't mean we should. We have too much on our plates to take on something as petty as taking down the populars of the school. It was a joke."

  I shrugged, an interesting joke, before I sighed. He was right. Making their lives a living hell would take up too much time, and I needed to focus on what was important to me. Getting stronger and richer than my parents.

  I only got to attend Woodside Academy because I had a scholarship for their robotics program. If it weren't for that, there was no way I would be able to attend with only my mother working, and my dad a deadbeat, who drank beer all day and worked on an old Mustang he'd never get up and running.

  Not that the others fully knew that. They thought my parents were small time lawyers, and that was how I’d keep it.

  I needed away from my parents, and Woodside's robotic program did that for me. No one knew that everything was paid for by a scholarship. They just thought my parents were average earners. To make extra cash, I sold weed and uppers to the students. It was a good side business and none of the administration had caught on that something was happening under their noses.

  My phone dinged. I glanced at the guys, all relaxed. They had their phones
out, but why would they text me if I was right here? It could be a client, looking for an upper to get them through the rest of classes.

  Pulling my cell out, I found a message from none other than the Queen Bee herself. She messaged the tutoring page we made on a whim the week prior. I didn't expect to hear much from it considering how much we were asking per hour. But she was one of the students at Woodside who probably wiped her ass with hundreds.

  "No fucking way!" I tapped on her face, posed with pouty lips and her sunglasses.

  Bon leaned over to me. "Who is it? A client for your side business?"

  I shook my head, then nodded. "Well, not the one I run by myself. It’s from that tutoring page we set up. You'll never believe who hit us up on it."

  Rhett pushed his hair out of his green eyes with a frown. "Who?"

  "The bitch, Chanel." I passed my phone to Bon, who read it and passed it to Rhett before it made its way through the group back to me. "Should we respond? I mean, if we want dirt on her, this is the way to get it."

  Sai frowned, sitting forward from the tree he leaned against. "What?"

  I motioned to Bon. "Weren't you listening when he suggested we do something to embarrass them?"

  Bon sighed. "I wasn't being serious. Wouldn't that make us no better than them?"

  I looked back down at the message and started to type a reply. It was big of her to be bossy when she had no idea if we had other clients we were tutoring. "They treat us and anyone who looks at them sideways like shit. What if we could make things better for everyone here? We still have an entire year of hell to face with them. We might as well make it fun."

  Sai's frown deepened. "I don't know. I think we should just stick to keeping to ourselves and not tutoring her. Wouldn't it be weird after a while, using her to get dirt on her and Brooks? Just tell her that we're full up."

  I continued typing out the message, telling her we’d meet her at Jacobson Library. I looked back at Sai. "Didn't it piss you off, though, when she rejected you? And not only that, laughed at that love letter you poured your heart into?"

  Sai rubbed at the back of his neck. "Yeah, but that was three years ago. I realized she's a bitch and not worth my time. I'm not vengeful over it, though."

  Rhett cleared his throat. “It's not like he's asking us to kill her or something, just make her and that douche understand their actions have consequences. That they can't go parading through life stepping all over everyone and still come out perfect and on top. And if we don't give them that lesson, who will? It's not like we're going to hurt them. Just take their egos down a few notches. Right, Zeke?"

  I nodded. "Right." My gaze returned to Sai's. "I told her we would meet her at the Jacobson library around four-thirty. I don't think she expects us to be the ones who show up."

  Sai huffed. "Fine, but I draw the line at doing any kind of Carrie bullshit. No dumping pig's blood on her when she becomes Prom Queen at the end of the year. But if we can find a decent way to teach them a lesson, I'll help if only to make sure you three don't let it get out of hand."

  Parking my new cherry-red BMW convertible, I peered up at the tiny library. Jacobson Library wasn't much compared to the four-story one downtown. That one had far too many eyes that would be curious about what I was doing, and who I was with.

  My heart fluttered. I had no idea who the people were that I was meeting. I just knew they went to Woodside as well. They didn't give me any names, not that I would know anyway, but told me to meet them at the large table in the sunroom at the back of the library.

  The doors whooshed open for me, and I took off my sunglasses, too dark for the dim lighting of the library as dusk set in outside. I peered around. The musky scent of old books met my nose. The place still looked like it had when I was a child, and my dad brought me here to pick out picture books.

  "The A makes the aa sound. Like Apple or Act, Chanel. Say it with me."

  I stared at his round face covered by a styled, dark-haired beard and waited for him to say the words before I followed. "Apple, act."

  He nodded and pointed to the big, black, bold letters that sat under a picture of a cartoon apple with a worm sticking out of it. I already knew what each letter looked like. The sounds for them came next. "So, what sound does this letter make?"

  "Aa." I looked back up into his brown and blue eyes for confirmation I'd done well. The sunlight shown behind him to create a halo around his head.

  He smiled. "Good, Chanel. Now, this letter makes the Pah, sound by itself. Like Pear or Pig."

  A grin pulled at my lips. "I like pears and pigs!"

  For a split second, the memory felt as if it just happened. As if I could whirl around and my father would be sitting by the window in the children's section, smiling at me, that halo of sunshine framing his head.

  I resisted the urge to look, knowing full well I wouldn't find him there. I quickened my stride to the back of the library, cutting diagonally across it to the right until I found the sunroom. It had walls of windows on all sides and a soundproof door leading in. One massive conference table sat in the middle.

  A sign hung on the door reserving the room.

  When I called about it, the old woman told me to come in. That no one ever used the room, and it would be available for as long as I needed it. Can't say I was shocked. The fact the place still stood as a library surprised me. I figured it would've closed down long ago, but there it stood as a testament to a different time.

  Peering inside the room, all the chairs remained empty, and no one stood around.

  I frowned. Would the tutors actually come? Though, I was few minutes early.

  Opening the door, I ventured inside. The door clicked and it felt louder than it should in the incredibly quiet and soundproof room. No one would be disturbed by us, or us by them, though I doubted many would venture so far back in the ancient structure. One of the many reasons I picked it as the location for me to meet with my potential new tutors.

  I took a seat, putting my sunglasses into my purse. Not like I would need them. I pulled out my phone to make sure I still looked okay. Makeup and hair perfect.

  No matter who these four were, I had to keep up appearance. Even if they were nice, or I didn't want to. It would be strange if I was nice out of nowhere with the facade I put up at the school. I still looked good. Sometimes I wanted to be plain, no makeup, no hairstyle, no high-end designer clothes. Just a normal eighteen-year-old girl wanting to make it through Senior year and begin her life as an adult.

  I had no idea if that day would ever come, but hopefully, with these peoples’ help, I could make it a reality.

  Movement caught my eye, and I side glanced at the door as several tall people came toward it. Well, taller than me, when I'm not in heels. I pretended to scroll on my phone. My heartbeat grew with each passing millisecond as one of them turned the doorknob and opened the door.

  I turned my gaze on them and froze. Holy hell, why did it have to be them? Of all people. The guys that Jason strived to torture on a daily basis. Especially Rhett Collins.

  How was I supposed to pull this off? Being a bitch wouldn't be too hard, I had practice. But what if I slipped up? Out of anyone in the school, they would be the first ones to take notice of a behavior slip and ask questions.

  My heart thudded against my breastplate as they all shuffled into the room. I tried not to focus my gaze on Sai Arya. I would go to my grave before I let anyone find out, but I still kept his love letter to me.

  Anytime I felt helpless and lost, I pulled it out to reread the faded ink, the creases in the paper tearing to the point I should've laminated it. I could recite the entire thing word for word with my eyes closed. It gave me hope that one day I would find someone who loved me like that. I wasn't stupid, however. I knew his feelings for me hadn't lasted. Not after that day, when he thought we all laughed at him over it.

  But ever since that day, I held a secret spot for him in my heart, a crush I knew could never happen for so many reasons. But his f
ace often appeared when I fantasized of a life where someone cherished me and wanted to spend their life with me.

  I steeled myself, double-checking to make sure I remained impassive, unreadable. I didn't have my glasses to hide my true emotions as I had earlier in the day, when they most likely overheard way too much truth about how Jason and I really felt about each other. Not sure Jason had put that together. He probably thought they were too far away to have heard anything that was said, or that he almost hit me if it hadn't been for the fact we were outside the school.

  But I had made eye contact with Sai. They knew what had happened.

  Curling my lip at them, I huffed. "I had no idea it was you losers answering my message. If I had, I would've never sent it in the first place. Do you have any idea what this could do to my reputation, to be seen with the likes of you?"

  Even to my ears, I sounded like a cunt. I knew it. But their presence around me would bring up more questions than any other person in the school.

  A guy with blond hair in a faux Mohawk that laid limp to one side flicked it out of brown eyes hidden behind thick-black framed glasses.

  As he scoff laughed, I tried to recall his name.

  He was one of the ones Jason didn’t pick on as much. I think because he supplied the weed and uppers for most of the school. So Jason, for the most part, ignored him unless he wanted drugs for one of his parties. I wanted to say Zeke something.

  He wore a snug but worn, vintage Led Zeppelin band shirt and black jeans. He had the punk look down pat.

  Zeke folded his arms over his chest. "Hey, you asked, we came. There was no clause in your message stating we had to be popular. The way I see it, we're in the top ten percentile for the school for grades in all classes, and Rhett here is in line to become the Valedictorian of our year. If you need help with your grades, we're the best guys for the job. At a hundred and fifty an hour each, just so we're clear. We aren't going to split a lump sum between us. You'll pay us each individually through the messaging app."