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

by C. L. Matthews

  “Thanks, Dr. Phil. Want to add therapist to your resumé?” I bark, hating the acrid tone coming from me. She doesn’t deserve my malice any more than the pizza. “Shit. I’m sorry,” I apologize.

  She stares at me with an open mouth, grabs for her bottle of Snapple, and drinks a hefty gulp. After, she nods her head as if deciding something in her head.

  I’m sitting here, waiting for her to blow a gasket, telling me how big of a cunt I’m being.

  “I can see there’s something here you’re touchy about, Colt,” she murmurs and looks directly into my pink eyes. “I can even understand your displeasure and know a little thing or two about eating disorders, so I won’t fight with you over your asshole remark.”

  I can’t even smile at her words because I feel like a total shit, and she’s seemingly angry—rightfully so—but doesn’t retaliate like most teens.

  She lets out a long breath and gives me a small grin of reassurance. “When you’re ready, you can tell me all about what you’re going through, and then I’ll share my story.”

  Nodding with pure gratefulness, I feel the nervous swelling of my body deflate like a balloon. She’s seriously the chillest girl I’ve met in a long time.

  “I’m sorry,” I offer. “It’s just hard not being able to enjoy life’s simple pleasures.”

  She nods in return. “I get it. Just remember, I’m not your enemy.”

  Wanting to hug her—which is weird for me—I offer her a reassuring smile. “You’re right. I’ll try not to forget that.”

  Because let’s be honest. I’m a hormonal teenage girl. Making promises to not overreact isn’t in the books.

  After grabbing my Poké ball backpack, I pick up a granola bar. It’s bland without even chocolate, but it’ll give me enough energy for later. It seems salad, greens, and those god-awful protein shakes are the only meals I’ll be having for the time being.

  As we both eat in mere silence, Mel’s eyes keep wandering over to the table seating my five terrors. Jordan isn’t a terror. My mind and heart battle with that. Even my gut has an argument with that sentiment. He may not be like them, but he’s one of them, which means, he’s an enemy. And I’m fucked.

  As I try to see who she’s looking at, Bridger’s eyes flit to mine. It’s not usual for him to give me attention, or anyone for that matter. He’s not exactly one for words or more than gestures, but he eviscerates my body with his dead gaze. Maybe it’s just because he scares me, or there’s something hidden in those black eyes. Either way, I’m trembling from how he doesn’t blink or look away from me, and also shivering from the way I know he can practically shed my clothes from that look alone.

  Why do my tormentors have this kind of power over me?

  “Hey,” a male voice sounds out from behind me. “This seat taken?”

  It’s only when Bridger’s eyes narrow to near slits that I realize the guy is talking to me. What throws me most off balance is the fact that my sociopath doesn’t seem to appreciate it very much.

  Which, in turn, only makes me want to defy him.

  Turning to the guy next to me, I offer a big grin, probably seemingly like the happiest emo girl in the entire universe. He’s tall—really freaking tall—his hair is curly and messy, boyish and charming. I don’t recognize him, but smile anyway. “Hiya,” I respond. “It’s not—”

  “It’s taken,” Ten barks, making me wince.

  The poor dude stares at me as if he can convince me to say something.

  “No, it’s really not,” I hiss at Ten, wondering when he came back, hating the smirks he gives me as if he’s been waiting for this very moment. Ignoring the massive asshole next to me, I give every ounce of my attention to the new dude. “What’s your name?”

  “Terrance,” he offers a hand.

  Ten smacks it away in an instant.

  “I’m Colt.” I once again avoid the big body taking the seat next to me. “Sorry about this caveman. He has small dick energy, if you know what I mean.”

  Placing quotations over the small dick part is a nice touch. A grin resurfaces, and my lack of appetite is all but forgotten when my arms are snatched and my body is lifted by Lux himself.

  “Fuck off, DeLeon!”

  But he carts me over his shoulder, smacking my ass in front of half of the school. I squeal when he does it again.

  I hate him.

  He starts walking out of the mess hall, and panic sets in. I’m yelling and pounding on his back. My skirt isn’t exactly long, and I’m sure people are spotting both my scars and my tattoos on the back of my thighs.

  “Let me down!” I hiss.

  A resounding slap sounds out as his palm connects with my flesh again.

  “Who knew a corpse could get pink skin?” he muses.

  When I flatten, no longer an ounce of fight in me, he puts me down. We’re outside the cafeteria and in the hallway nearest the drama club. Great. These classes only run in the mornings. Which means—

  “No one is allowed to sit with you,” Lux grouches, his face contorted with annoyance.

  —they aren’t giving me a choice but be cornered.

  His arms are crossed, as if that gesture will keep him from touching me. With each breath that hisses from his chest, my body heaves in return, wanting him to attack and wanting to hit him in return.

  “Fuck right off. You won’t control who I hang out with.”

  A chuckle escapes him, and he throws his head back, exposing that thick throat that I’d love to taste again.

  What the hell? Stop.

  My inner ramblings are starting to make me uneasy as hell.

  Lux pushes into my chest, and with the heat of my sore ass and the close proximity of this guy, I’m flushed and hot. Where’s my buffer? Where’s Mel? Ten didn’t follow us. He must be keeping her back. Dicks.

  When my back hits the brick wall, Lux boxes me in. He loves to do this, doesn’t he?

  “You will not sit with Terrance Reid. You got me, Corpse?”

  It takes everything in me not to laugh in his face. He thinks he can demand a single thing from me? No. That’s not how this works.

  “Fuck. Off.” The steely edge to my tone shows he’s pissing me off. Fuck. He knows he’s getting to me. That simply won’t do.

  He grabs a toxic lock of my hair, and I’m thrown back in the past when he grabbed silvery blonde strands before taking my breath away.

  I shake in an attempt to thwart him, but he only pushes in closer.

  “Seems like you need a lesson in who has the power, Corpse.” His words are as harsh as they are confident.

  But there’s nothing he could do to me that’ll hurt me. My brother is dead. My grades are suffering, and school is a lie.

  Not like any of us need it. We can pay any university for a roster spot. It’s as simple as that.

  “You seem to need some guidance in the fucks I don’t give because I’m running short on explanations, Lennox.”

  “Ah, but it’s so fun to watch that mouth move, especially as it’s wrapped around my cock.”

  His words are venomous, but that doesn’t stop my body from reacting. My piercings always keep my nipples hard, but they suddenly feel like the metal inside them only tells how much he’s affecting me.

  “Lux,” I whisper, not wanting him in my space anymore.

  His eyes cast down to look into mine, devouring, a monstrosity, waiting for its next meal. For a fleeting moment, he’s softened, and that’s exactly what I need. When he leans closer, I lift my knee and connect with his balls. As he cringes and bends over, gripping his jewels, I make my escape for it. Not even caring that my bag is still in the lunchroom and that I didn’t get to eat my granola bar, I allow my feet to carry me to my dorm, all while praying Lux doesn’t catch up with me.

  Eleven

  I hide out for the next few hours like I’m being hunted. If they wanted, they could easily get to me. That’s the thing about Student Gov. They have all the power. Hell, they even have a master key to every ro
om that’s not in the Opal Tower.

  Basically, if they decide I’m too much trouble, my life is fucked.

  It’s only been a couple weeks into the school year, and I’ve already embarrassed Ten, kneed Lux, and found Bridger doing some suspect as fuck things in the woods. It’s not looking good. Yes, I want to find out what happened to Cass. Yes, I want to hurt the guys like they hurt me. But most of all, I’m fighting against all of them. They’re bound to destroy me.

  After grabbing my stash, I roll a joint and head to my balcony, hoping no one is outside to see me ditching class. There’s something so freeing about being where I’m not supposed to be while everyone else follows the rules.

  Cass always used to call me out on it.

  “You can’t keep missing classes, Col. What are you going to do when it’s time to graduate and you don’t have enough credits to walk with the class?”

  “Convince Mom to pay them off,” I mope, hating how right he is. School and I have never gotten along. It’s always a constant battle, one where we’re wielding pool noodles, neither able to truly win.

  “No, you’re going to get your shit together and kick ass.” His arms drape over my shoulders as he pulls me into his embrace. “You’re going to make me proud and show the world that you’re a badass.”

  My throat tightens with emotion. While he’s a boy and a dick most days, my brother has never ceased to protect me, love me, or push me to be my best.

  “I love you, Cass.”

  “I love you too, Col.”

  Tears prick my eyes as the memory shakes my mind and heart in equal succession. If he wasn’t gone, he would give me shit for skipping. Just like he used to when skipping with the guys. Those were the days. When they didn’t want to hurt me unless I begged them.

  Now, hurting me is their only agenda. I’m only waiting for the other shoe to drop.

  They’re being too nice. Other than the cafeteria, they’ve been too quiet. Laying too low.

  Something is bound to happen.

  Lighting up, I pinch my joint between my thumb and forefinger. It’s burning to a pretty ember, and my body feels relaxed. Maybe it’s not about the weed. Maybe it’s the action itself that brings the contented sigh of relief.

  Inhaling a big drag, I let the smoke stay. My body visibly relaxes. With one hand, my palm flattens on the rail, and my other holds the bud. It has this calming effect on me that’s missed. Being at ease comes few and far too little these days. But this? Me and my light on the back canopy, staring at the green mountains, is exactly the kind of release I need.

  Actually, an orgasm would be nice too, but asking one of the fuckers who are tormenting me to give me one would be a stretch.

  I sit in the little lawn chair I stole from Scotty, and smoke until my lungs feel exhausted.

  No one comes for me, and my body finally feels at ease. Maybe it was a reach, thinking they would—

  The sound of my door’s lock being undone has me jolting up from the chair, dropping the stub left of my smoke.

  —come for me.

  “Colty,” Ross sounds out, making my body shiver.

  Since that day in the communal showers, I’ve been on edge. He’s seen me entirely naked, well, as much as the curtain revealed. He could know about my scars and tattoos, witnessing my body jewelry and the secrets my clothing hides. While I never show my arms, right now and in the shower, they aren’t covered.

  His eyes land on the ink that resides over the marred flesh, hiding my pain, keeping it like a dirty secret while it watches over me.

  “What are you doing here?” I complain, wanting nothing more than to smack him and then fuck him for good measure. My body tingles. The weed must’ve wired my mind wrong again. He can be a hot fuck, but he won’t ever be mine.

  “Came to see if Lux visited yet.”

  Closing my eyes tightly, I feel my body warm and freeze at the same time. Shivers and chills break out over my skin. Not just his name brings these reactions, but the knowledge that he plans on coming after me for my little stunt does too.

  “Kinda wanted to see you before he wrecked your pretty—”

  “Don’t finish that sentence. I’m not fucking him or you.”

  A wide churlish smile breaks free, his dimple poking through to make me even more prone to bending for him. He’s the worst of them. With his charming smiles, devilish looks, and the goddamn tattoos, he’s weakness conjured into human form.

  He’s my sad boy.

  Not yours, Colton.

  That’s what I’ve always called him. Whether or not he intentionally permeates the air with his melancholy, he does. Maybe it’s only me who notices and that’s why I’ve always been drawn to him, but he does.

  His sadness seeps into me as I walk closer. There’s no way I’m going to say a single thing to him. I just want to see what I missed.

  “You seem to think you can avoid it, Vampire.”

  “If you think that’s going to get me to suck you off, you’re sorely mistaken.”

  He chuckles. It’s warm, less sad, something strong and potent, like a cup of coffee before your eyes fully register anything, a hot bath when your body feels deteriorated beyond comprehension, or even a smile for the first time after months of absence, filling a void that always felt barren.

  “That’s not why I said it, but since you brought the idea up...” he trails off, sauntering toward me, closing the gap.

  I stay rooted now, not wanting to show him how unnerved he makes me.

  If it’s possible, his grin widens. Like Jared Leto’s Joker, his grin is unnaturally wide, devilish, ready to cause mayhem wherever it reaches.

  Heat wraps itself around me as his hand comes to my jaw. It’s covered in ink like mine. While mine is pure black with no intricacies, his are roses and thorns, as if he wanted to depict the pain that comes with love all while showing the beauty in it too.

  “I like it when you shiver, Colty. Drives me mad.”

  My breath catches at how wicked his green eyes look this close with his admission. As I stare at him with every emotion, he practically groans. Unlike most women who think giving a guy emotion means you’re weak, I feel it has the opposite effect. If you give them love, lust, and hatred, if you offer a morsel of your humanity, it taunts theirs, begs theirs to come out and play. And when you’re finally wrapping your barbed wire dripped with malice thorns around their hearts, they kneel for you, nearly begging for more.

  When I’m like this, he’s mine.

  So, no, I don’t have to hide behind numbness. My heart does all the work for me.

  If only I could tell my heart not to reciprocate.

  Ross seems enamored. It’s daunting. Enticing. It’s what we always do whenever we’re alone. That’s the problem with these guys. Alone with me, like truly alone, they’re themselves. Almost like they shuck their armors and come in here naked. Their souls bleed. They just don’t intend it to.

  “I like when you make me come, yet here we are,” I whisper, feeling every ounce of my weed infiltrating the intelligent part of me.

  He groans at my response and has his other hand gripping my naked hip. After coming back here, I spared myself the discomfort and traded my goth garb for some night shorts and a crop top that says Fuck your opinion. It’s one of my favorites.

  Ross continues trailing up my thin waist, then over my bony ribs, and it takes everything in me to hamper down the sadness that overwhelms me when he notices.

  “You are thin, Colt.”

  Gone is the sensual mood and bubble I felt myself sinking in. Now is a troubled boy who doesn’t have making me orgasm on his mind. Great. His fingers trail over each rib, even if half are covered. His eyes are full of concern, and I hate it.

  Pushing him back, I point a finger in his direction. “Stop looking at me like that,” I hiss.

  It hurts, seeing the care in his expression. He’s not heartless, no, far from it, but seeing how he’s trying to recognize something that he won’t find makes me uncom
fortable. With me standing there, being scanned like a patient in a hospital, I no longer feel safe and calm. My heart starts beating irregularly.

  “You’re incredibly thin,” he practically repeats his first sentiment.

  “Glad to know your eyes work, Dare.”

  His eyes collide with mine. Who would’ve thought that using someone’s nickname would set them off so much? Ross hates being called Dare by me. It could be the reason behind it, but I think he likes how intimate it feels hearing me say his name.

  “What happened?”

  I scowl, feeling my blood boil and my body tense. “Hmm,” I mock, disdain dripping from my voice. “First, four guys... fucked me over. Then, my brother fucking dies. Sounds pretty obvious to me.”

  I almost let it slip that four guys made me fall in love with them. That can never leave my mind or lips. Though emotions hold power for my benefit, that admission would do them more good than it’d do me.

  “Colt,” he starts.

  I rub my forehead, forgoing the need to let him comfort me. Ross is great at cuddling and bringing warmth back in my body. He’s like a big cuddly tattooed bear that knows exactly what is needed when it’s needed it. He and Ten are the same in that sense. The difference is, I would trust Ross with my heart before I would ever let Ten touch it again.

  “Please, don’t.” It comes out as a plea.

  Tears prick my eyes. Not only does emotion clog my heart and soul, but a little too much green compromises me. That’s the kicker, isn’t it? What these guys do to me isn’t welcome, but it happens anyway. They make me forget how they were somehow involved with covering up what happened with my brother. That’s not okay.

  “Talk to me. Are you eating? Starving yourself? My sister—”

  A derisive laugh escapes me. “Do not compare me to Olivia,” I bark.

  Once upon a time, that girl was as close to me as Yang was. Her addiction to diet pills came before my health. She fucked me over. Guess it’s a family dynamic.

  “She had issues—”

  “She thought she was fat!” I yell, feeling my heart ache at the comparison. Olivia was thin by choice.