Here Lives a Corpse: A Dark Bully Academy Romance (Here Lies Book 1)

by C. L. Matthews

  “Hey,” Mel mentions, stopping my pursuit to the gym. “I’m sorry I didn’t say anything more to Lennox in class.”

  That’s what she meant.

  I raise an eyebrow. It’s not her job to protect me. Especially not to the likes of those guys. If anything, she should stay far away from me and them. Collateral damage is a real problem.

  “Don’t apologize. He’s a dick. He always will be.” The nonchalance in my voice isn’t to be avoided.

  “What’s the story there?” she asks animatedly, gripping her books to her chest. Is she asking because she wants dirt, or is she asking because she actually gives a shit?

  “A long story that doesn’t deserve repeating,” I let out.

  She bites her lip like she wants to say more, but she doesn’t.

  I appreciate that. Holding my bag strap tighter, wonderment fills me. Not many people can hold back their nosiness. It’s a curse. We, too, have to deal with the bullshit that spills from their lips, all from their lack of restraint.

  “That’s fair,” she muses. “What’s your next class?”

  I grimace, thinking of PE and how I’ll be seeing Lennox again. It’s not going to be pretty. Whenever we’re put into the same classes, something goes wrong, especially this one when he’s my babysitter. My doctor called and let me know I could start eating regular food. She specified it to be small amounts so that I could monitor changes. My pill dosage is being lessened every day as well.

  Tonight, I’m eating a goddamn pizza.

  “Fitness,” I groan. “With Coach Carter.”

  She laughs, literally tips her head back and laughs, her books bouncing with each jolt. “I like you, Colton. You’re definitely not normal.”

  “Thanks?” I mutter, not knowing how to react, but I’m glad she’s honest. We need more people in the world who don’t hold anything back. Continuing my pursuit for greasy happiness, she follows.

  “It’s a compliment. Being normal is overrated. I have to go to Lit, but I’ll definitely catch up with you later if you have second lunch?”

  Stopping my escape, I turn toward her, but she’s several feet away by now. “I do!” I yell after her. “Have second lunch!”

  “I’ll find you!” she hollers back while retreating down the hall.

  Her heels tap in the other direction while my boots sound like loud reverberating stomps. It’s in no means intentional. I would never do it on purpose. The last thing I want is to garner attention from this cistern.

  After arriving to the changing rooms, it’s apparent everyone is already outside, making me late. Shit. No one’s here, which means Coach will start without me, and Lux will—

  “You’re late, Corpse.”

  —be a bigger dick than usual.

  “Why are you in the girl’s locker room?” I gripe, fastening my fingers around my bag’s straps as if they’ll protect me from him.

  What is it with these guys thinking they can invade my space? First Ross, and now Lux. When will they let the past die?

  When you do.

  It’s never going to end because my brother is gone, and there’s no stopping me from getting answers.

  “Why are you still wearing your gothic ensemble that makes Bellatrix Lestrange seem like a Muggle?”

  “The fact that you know what a Muggle is and who Bellatrix is makes me believe you’re a lot nerdier than you’ve let on.”

  “Are you going to get dressed, or are you going to make us both look bad?” he deflects.

  Mentally, I save this information for later. Who knows? Maybe he’s a true Potterhead, and I can use that to my advantage. My mind immediately travels to Slytherin jokes and how Ross would appreciate them. Fuck. Stop thinking about them.

  Lux stares at me. If he thinks I’m undressing in front of him, he’s got another knee-to-the-balls coming.

  “Well, if you’re going to be standing here, we’ll be waiting all day.” Heat spreads through me as I pull off my backpack and use it as a shield against my chest.

  “When did you become self-conscious?”

  His curiosity grates on me. He’s acting as if the last five months didn’t pass without a word from him or the others.

  “When did you become a dick?”

  He scoffs. “Do you always answer a question with a question?”

  I give him the really look. “Why do you act like this, Lux? It’s not like you know me.”

  He sidles closer to me, forcing me to take several steps back, my bag landing between us at my feet. This sociopath side of his, the one that terrorizes me, it’s one I’ll never get used to. He’s always been terrifying, but at least before, I’d been aware of what he’d be giving in the deal. Now, he’s an entirely different creature, and that’s a scary realization.

  “I know you, Corpse.” He slides the bag away with his foot, trying to erase the gap between us. “Sometimes more than you know yourself,” he finishes.

  His hazel eyes, the green more prominent than the brown today, throw me off. He hasn’t been this close in a long time. There are mere inches between us. It would take him leaning in to eat the last few breaths. He would, especially if it would unsettle me further.

  Lennox DeLeon has a reputation from dismantling groups, terrorizing them to concede, and rising from their ashes after he’s destroyed everything they hold dear.

  “You don’t know me,” I mutter, not wanting to push into him and force him back. With my condition and his brute strength, it wouldn’t be a battle, and losing isn’t an option.

  “I do,” he mocks, gripping a bright green strand of my hair, tugging it enough to make me yelp. “I know you so much that even though you just made a noise of discomfort, your pussy is hot and wet for me.” Lux bridges the gap so that his lips aren’t even centimeters away. They’re practically touching mine. “If I pull up that black little number and touch you, will you already be a mess between these thighs?”

  A gasp absconds from my lips, expelling itself like a wanton wish as his other hand grips my hip right where my piercing is. It’s such a sensitive spot, and I hate how much his words illicit warmth to spread through me. He’s right too, knowing my body loves pain with its pleasure. They work side by side, driving me both crazy with need and hatred. A lover’s quarrel where there’s no winner, only loss and despair. Someone as monstrous as Lennox shouldn’t make me so bent up inside. He shouldn’t have a single effect on me.

  But he does.

  The silent ones always do. They bring out the baser side of me, the side needing to be handled and fucked until caring is the last emotion riding me.

  “We’re going to be late,” I try, shrinking back as much as the metal grate behind me allows.

  His arms and hands box me in as he places one on either side of my head. Licking his bottom lip, he breathes against my throat. Its slow, heady, murmuring promises he’ll never follow through with.

  “We’re already late. You have two minutes to change. After that, all bets are off.”

  His unnerving last words makes my body tremble from head to toe. Opening my locker, I shove my stuff and grab my change of clothes, taking it to the stall and undressing faster than I ever have. Lux may be menacing, but unlike normal teens, he’s not an idle threat. He’s deliberate with his words, his threats. As much as fighting him sounds good, this isn’t a battle worth losing.

  As soon as I’m out of the stall, he’s there, waiting. Two minutes, my ass. He probably barely wasted a second to pop in here. A smirk tilts on his face, letting me know he’s aware of where my mind just went.

  Fuck off.

  I throw my stuff in my locker and follow him out. This is going to be the worst class since the first day, or maybe tormenting me is his favorite past time. No matter what, I lose.

  The class wasn’t too bad. We worked out in the fitness portion of the gym—weight lifting, treadmills, and bikes. Since I’m on regulated duty, I could only do the bike, which, by the way, isn’t as easy as people make it out to be. After doing inter
vals for thirty minutes, my thighs feel like Jell-O, but at least, they feel something. The weakness they’ve had isn’t appealing in the least.

  Since being sick, I’ve felt frail, which is not me. I used to dance and do drills and workout as if it was my religion.

  After class ends, we change. Most girls won’t shower because they’re nervous. Me? I have zero qualms for that shit, even after Ross barged in. I refuse to feel sweaty for the last two hours of school.

  Hurrying into the shower, I make quick with removing my makeup and washing my body. No one sees me without makeup. Not during the past year, at least. Even then, I didn’t leave my dorm without a full face. It mattered. Much differently than now, but it still mattered.

  As soon as I’ve finished, it’s a race to get dressed. No one’s in here. They’re probably all at the end of roll call. I’m okay with that. There’s no reason for me to come back.

  It takes about ten minutes to get my full face back to where I like it.

  Adding a gloss layer on my lips instead of my normal black, I head out right as the bell rings. Well, would you look at that? Lunch time.

  Instead of checking back in with Coach, I make my way to the cafeteria. Not rushing to hide. It’s something I haven’t done since the start of school. Luckily for me, I’ve got a new whatever-she-is, Mel. She’s not quite a friend, but she’s definitely not a foe. It’s a happy medium of existing in hell alongside one another. A camaraderie of sorts.

  As I scan the room filled to the brim with students, it takes a moment before seeing a familiar face. How does every single Student Gov kid have the same lunch as me every day? Can’t they have the opposite of mine and not make me want to die more than I already do?

  The five of them are huddled at a table, along with three of the drill team girls and several people I don’t recognize. One girl sits in Ten’s lap. Another is draped over Lux, and I’m internally vomiting.

  Mel, where are you? My eyes are practically racing to find her. The anxiety of being surround by this many people is as claustrophobic as the elevator. It’s daunting in the worst way.

  My stomach begs me to fill it with carbs. I’m about to turn and leave when her voice stops me. “Colton!”

  Did she have to say it so loudly? People’s heads, along with five guys’ from Student Gov, all turn my way. It’s like silence has been masked upon the entire room while she makes her way to me.

  “Great. Just want I wanted.”

  “What was that?” Mel asks, coming right beside me.

  I gape at her, not knowing what to do with my life. Students staring at me is somewhat normal, but stopping all conversation just to watch how this plays out? That’s new.

  “Pizza. Need pizza.”

  She smiles. It goes across her entire face, making her eyes crinkle with the motion. “I honestly thought you’d be a salad girl,” she murmurs.

  I would laugh if it wasn’t true. Instead, I scrunch my face in displeasure.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend. You’re just so nimble.”

  I want to reassure her and tell her it’s fine, but my body being so small makes me uncomfortable. I’ve been a curvier side of skinny for a long time, so being on the bony side isn’t appealing. Wanting to offer her a little reassurance, I offer a grin. “Greasy food is my favorite,” I say. “If I could live off carbs, I would.”

  “With a body like yours? Why not?” She says it like she has to care about her own figure, but she’s gorgeous in every way. People would be stupid not to notice.

  “Oh, shut up,” I mock. “If I had an ass like yours, I’d be flaunting it.”

  With that, it’s almost like our kinship is growing. We’re breaking barriers, and lord knows I need any push I can get. We both get pizza after finding a table away from everyone. Arcadia, being one of those hoity-toity schools of course had full barstool type seats. It’s convenient when you want to leave easily, but crappy when you bend too far one way.

  Chatting, I notice Mel can tell I’m deflecting questions, but she always backs off without crossing into the annoying zone of getting to know someone. I’m starting to understand why people keep friends around. They’re pertinent to existing in high school. Without Yang here this year, drowning was the norm. Having Mel might just save me.

  Ten

  “Look at what we got here,” Ross muses from nearby, reminding me how much I hate knowing all of their voices like the back of my hand.

  He sidles up to me as I’m about to take a huge bite of pepperoni. His hands come down on my shoulders. Nervousness sizzles inside me as my spine stiffens, feeling like he hit me with a hot poker. Skin contact shouldn’t feel like a brand, a marking of ownership, or a fucking kindling stoking my fire.

  It should be unwelcome, unpleasant. At the very least, it should feel unwanted.

  But like a year ago, I’m a marionette, and these fuckers are my masters.

  His fingers bend into me, squeezing none too lightly. It’s not enough to bruise a normal person, but it’s definitely enough to discolor my anemic state.

  Mel searches my eyes for a guide, as if I’m accustomed to this and what to do.

  Newsflash, southern comfort, I’m not.

  “Aids, tell me it’s aids,” I ask in a faux girlie tone, like I’m a mad groupie and he’s offering me his body at my disposal.

  His hands lift off me, and he’s turning me around. Those eyes of his, the greenest ones that give my hair a run for its money, narrow at me. He’s gauging my reactions, like a viper ready to strike, waiting to know and understand its prey from the inside out first.

  “Ah, Tim Burton special, wouldn’t that be grand? Telling the entire cafeteria how you—”

  I push into him, smacking a palm over his too-evasive mouth. He bites the skin and then licks it right after, making me shiver and cringe all at once.

  I hate him.

  I hate them.

  I hate life.

  After dropping my hand, I wipe it on my skirt.

  Ross seems amused at the movement, like he got the reaction he wanted out of me. I’m not sure when the others made their way over, but now, next to him, they’re all surrounding the table behind us. Lux sits, staring at me with eyes that portray how hungry he is for me. Fuck, the way he’s spread wide, his elbows resting on his thighs, it does something to my insides. Beside him, avoiding me, is a grimacing Ten. He refuses to glance this way—not a surprise. On the other side of him stands Bridger. His blank stare gives me no reprieve, and did I really expect it to? Out of all these guys, he’s the only sociopath who openly admits it when asked. He doesn’t care that people know, but he would care if they knew he wasn’t born one and it was a learned trait. I know he has daddy issues. Hell, all these boys do. But if you asked, he would fuck you up and then pretend it never happened.

  I think of all the times he’s made me a frazzled mess, and I cringe. Why is he so perfect in an ungodly way? If he was carved from stone, it wouldn’t be a surprise. It must go deeper than that. Maybe his parents sacrificed souls to create such a haunting child. He’s too perfect and too inhuman. Unnatural.

  It takes me far too long to respond that Ross taps my nose to get my attention. It’s too late, I’m entranced by a numb boy who doesn’t know how to feel.

  Maybe he secretly does. Who knows?

  “What?” I snap.

  “I was asking why you’re sitting in the mess hall. It’s not your style.”

  Anger ignites in me as my eyes roll in response. Didn’t know eating food was a fashion statement.

  “Good thing no one asked you for your opinion, Dare.”

  He swallows slowly, his Adam’s apple bobbing slowly, surely, like he’s unsure how to respond. Bet no one knows why he’s called Dare, and they probably won’t. It’s a secret we’re told to take to the grave.

  Too bad I’m already dead.

  “One of these days, I’m going to mess up that pretty little mouth of yours, Colty.”

  I smirk back at him, loving t
he edge he just gave me. He doesn’t realize kind words are an opening for cruel ones.

  “Never said you could handle me sucking cock, Dare. Guess you’ve just realized it, too.”

  He flinches, and the rest of the guys, except Lux, seem flummoxed, but Lux—the fucker—he grabs his groin and winks at me. What that means, I’m not sure, but that doesn’t stop me from feeling knocked down a peg or five. Fuck. He’s too hot for his own good, and I’m too weak for mine.

  And stupid. There’s a whole lot of stupid flooding my mind.

  “What the fuck was that?” Mel whispers after the guys fuck off.

  I stare at her, not knowing how to explain it.

  “I feel like I just witnessed a dick measuring contest, and you definitely won.”

  At that, I’m chuckling. She isn’t wrong. I would beat them in that contest any day. I’ve got nothing left to lose.

  “But seriously, what is going on with you and that Dare guy?”

  “If I knew, I couldn’t tell you. They’re Satanists.”

  Her eyes widen.

  “They’d have no qualms in sacrificing my soul for their own twisted games.”

  Of that, I’m absolutely certain.

  As soon as my teeth dive into the greasy masterpiece between my fingers, I gag. It’s an uncontrollable reaction to something I’ve tried to overcome in the last two months. The slice drizzles that perfect oiliness that I love, but seeing it now, smelling the cheese and pep as it touches my tongue, I can’t control the repulsion.

  “Are you okay?” Melissa asks, her face full of worry.

  She’s staring at me as if I’m dying. Maybe I am. This must be what absolute torture feels like, sitting in front of the thing you love most, wanting to eat it, and then it telling you nice fucking try.

  “Yeah, yeah,” I mutter, trying not to let the overwhelming sadness be present in my eyes. It’s hard being a foodie without the ability to eat. It’s unfair. I put a napkin to my mouth and spit out the cringy bite, barely holding back the heaving.

  “Are you sure? You look paler than normal.”