Cruel Boys
Page 15
“Dom voted for you?” Luna shrieks, and I yank the phone away from my ear. “I knew it. He likes you. You can’t hate a person the way he hates you and not want them.”
“Ew, Luna. That’s fucking sick.”
“I didn’t say he was mentally stable. Fucking crazy and cute sometimes go hand in hand. Maybe he’s a nice guy deep down?”
I scoff. “Yeah, a nice guy who’s into bullying and raping and posting it online.”
The bell rings, and I chuck my cigarette away. Fuck. That’s not a concrete sidewalk out there. I crawl under the railing and fetch it fast. I hear voices as I grind it out on the concrete pillar that supports the deck. I run along the side of the house, and Theo’s standing outside the door.
“Shit!” he screams when he sees me. “What are you doing out there?”
And we both shout when Dad yanks open the door.
Dad scowls. “Did you lock yourself out?” he asks as we both scurry inside.
“Yeah, something like that,” I reply.
“Hello, Mr. Saunders.” Theo holds out his hand. “How are you doing, sir?”
Dad lifts an eyebrow. “Call me Greg, and I’m doing fine.” Dad looks at both of us with an expression that is questioning and stern at the same time. “I’ll be in my study.”
I grab Theo by the hand and drag him up to my room. As soon as the door is shut, we both start talking. I pause, and so does he, and then we speak again over top of each other. I hold up my palms and wave my hands toward me, allowing him to speak first.
“I didn’t draw this.” Theo thrusts a picture toward me. It’s an anime illustration of me on my knees, smiling at the spectator. And an old guy is standing in front of me, holding out a dollar bill. The caption reads Lil’ Vicki’s dollar menu, and it’s signed Theo.
My hands start to shake, and I want to tear it into pieces. “I told them they weren’t creative, and they’re determined to prove me wrong.”
“I found it in all the boys’ bathrooms and locker rooms. I didn’t check the girls’.” Theo is distracted by my bedroom, and he lifts a black feather boa dipped in silver glitter. “Nice bedroom. This is how I sort of pictured it.”
“How did you get here anyway?” I sit down and pat the spot on the bed next to me.
“Rhys dropped me off.” Theo checks his phone. “I told him you would drive me back.”
I want to ask Theo about the creepy dude. There is something about that kid that I didn’t like. A feeling that I got that unsettled my stomach, but I can’t quite put my finger on it. Intuition or paranoia? I honestly don’t know.
“You’ve known them longer than me,” I ask. “Have they done this type of shit before? I mean, are people going to believe them?”
Theo fidgets and won’t look me in the eye. “They’ve not gone this hard after one person,” he pauses. “But then again, most people back down.”
“Well, I’m not smart enough to take it down a notch and disappear,” I reply.
Theo looks at me with an intent gaze. “Vicki, I don’t get how you’re wired, but you seem to have a high tolerance for pain and abuse. That worries me. Silas, Dom, and Chase haven’t gone after anyone for this long, and it’s only intensifying. It might be too late before any of you realize you should have stopped sooner.”
This time I look away first. I stare at the poster of Edie. Maybe she isn’t the best icon for a former drug user to have on her bedroom wall. Then I look at the disgusting picture in my hand and tear it up. Did I inadvertently join these boys together into a three-headed Cerberus? And now will I have to slay the beast?
“Come on.” I grab my purse. “I’ll drive you back.”
We don’t talk much as I drive toward Redwood. Theo settles in beside me and turns on some generic ambient. The music syncs with the drive as we stare at the dark road illuminated a few feet in front of the headlights.
“It’s peaceful here,” I deadpan. “Until you go into the woods.”
It’s late, almost ten, which is late for walking around campus. But I’m restless and decide to go to the basement room where they store the old VHS tapes. Obviously, it’s called the morgue, but the space doesn’t creep me out anymore. I’ve been back a few times, and it’s a calming place to hide while searching for old movies I watched as a kid. The key is stored in a closet a few steps down the hallway. It turns effortlessly in the lock, and the door opens too easily as if it isn’t locked. I stop and listen. The lights are on, and I can hear low noises.
I don’t call out but take a few tentative steps forward. The editing room is to the far right, but the noises sound like they’re coming from the left. This is the moment where I should turn tail and run screaming out of the spooky basement. I’ve watched enough horror films to know what happens to the nosy chick. But I keep walking slowly, curious to discover what goes on when nobody is supposed to be around.
I slowly approach the open door of the room that’s kept locked. The lights are on, and the window that’s always dark is now backlit. A curtain of orange, brown, and gold stripes is covering a two-way mirror that’s about six feet long. I can see the interior of brown paneling on the walls, and a gold tweed couch. It’s really cheesy. The interior looks familiar, though I’ve never seen the door open before.
Music is playing over a cheap speaker. It’s an old top-forty hit that everyone knows but can’t remember the band. Maybe this is where kids hang out that want to be left alone. Maybe I’ll find more like-minded spirits that crave time away from the scheming and dealing. I walk closer toward the door and hear a woman moaning.
I step inside the doorway, and my legs freeze to the spot as my eyes widen. My video teacher Marcy is lying topless on top of an old-fashioned wooden desk. Her head is positioned closest to the doorway while her legs are dangling off the opposite end. Her torso rests across the entire surface. She will only see me if she tilts her head back all the way
Moaning, she shuts her eyes as Chase sucks her hard nipple into his mouth. She’s almost naked, but he’s fully clothed in a slim-cut button-down shirt and dark jeans. His hand squeezes her other breast firmly—the soft flesh filling his hand. Chase sucks her nipple with a loud smack then releases it, letting it slip from his wet lips. He repeats the movement methodically, gripping the tight nipple in his teeth and giving it a tug. He opens his eyes, and for a moment, he watches Marcy writhe as he leans over her body. Then he lifts his gaze and sees me.
My body won’t do anything but tremble. My scalp tightens as I clench my hands into fists. I’m waiting for him to say something or shout. I’m waiting for him to react, to alert my teacher that I’m spying on them, but his cool eyes lock on mine as he swirls the tip of his tongue around her hard nipple.
Her breasts shine with his saliva as he watches me intently. I want to look away. I have to. I have to leave, but I can’t. I stand secured to the spot as if Chase has commanded me to stay there and watch. Marcy moans again as he catches her other nipple in his teeth. She lifts her hands and pushes her fingers through his thick dark hair.
“Oh, that’s it,” she sighs, “you’re such a naughty boy, and I love it.”
Her hand goes to the fly on his jeans, and Chase savagely grabs it. Marcy yelps as he twists her hand off him. She tries to sit up, but Chase pins her down and the desk shakes. His hand moves to her skirt then between her legs, and he slowly lifts it over her waist. He pulls her panties off, and they land on the floor. Marcy slumps against the desk and makes a hissing sound as her breasts shake on top of her chest. But Chase never looks away from me. No matter what she does.
Soon, Marcy shouts as her head tosses back and forth. She lies panting on the desk, her body almost completely exposed. Chase stands straight and watches me with a nasty look in his eyes. It shakes me. He has always been the joker, the wise mouth, the nice one.
“Why’d you stop, baby?” Marcy moans. “Why’d you stop?”
Chase watches me as he tugs his zipper down. A cold smirk distorts his beautiful face.
I can’t tell them apart. I can’t tell the decent people from the ones who aren’t. I cry because they’re all bad.
Trust no one, Vicki.
I wipe the vomit off my mouth with the back of my hand. On shaky legs, I walk to my car. Once inside, I close my eyes and slide down in the seat. I sit for a long while, just coming down from the shock. I’m going to need more than a pep talk from Dad to stay sane around these sick fucks.
Bang. Bang.
I jump when someone knocks on the hood of my car. It’s Chase, standing by the passenger side door. I stare at him with wild eyes as the sound of my breathing fills the interior. I don’t want him in my car. I frantically reach for the lock, my fingers fumbling against the inside of the door. But calmly and quickly, Chase opens the door and gets in before I can lock it.
“Nice car,” he says, running his hand along the dashboard. “What year?”
“Seventy-five,” I mutter.
“All the original parts?”
He sees me nod in the dim overhead light illuminating the inside of the car. Chase looks around as if he expects to see something. He opens the glove box, and I reach to slam it shut.
“Easy,” he scowls. “I’m just looking for a smoke.”
“I don’t smoke in my car.”
He eyes me. “And I wasn’t just balls deep in Marcy’s dried-up cunt.”
Chase is too big for my Mustang. Not his body, but his whole presence overwhelms it. I feel him near me, without him touching me. I sense his heat and his energy, and it’s too much. I can’t be this close to him. I turn on the engine and let down all the windows, tilting my head back on the headrest. I breathe in deeply. I don’t dare shut my eyes. The sound of the crickets chirping in the woods is our soundtrack for the moment. I don’t want to think about anything else. We sit there in silence until Chase finally gets out of my car.
For a moment, he stands by the door and stares out into the dark. He’s impossibly gorgeous and abuses his good luck. That’s a shame.
Chase faces the open window and places his forearms against the edge as he leans in. I clutch the edge of the seat hard with my fingernails and lean away, wide-eyed. My fear is showing. I can’t conceal it. There’s no safety at Redwood. Chase is just a boy. So, why am I so scared? Because I thought he would be the one I could reason with.
“Just to be clear, Vicki.” He works his lips, as if he’s choosing the right words. “We’re all eighteen. Thanks for the smoke.”
He pats my car door like a salesman in a showroom and walks off toward the dorms.
Chapter Seventeen
The seven deadly sins should be plenty to work with until we start to divide our club evenly into seven smaller groups. The cinematography club has increased from less than ten people to over twenty. We agree that it’s important to start the project for the festival this week if we want a quality project in time. We stand in random clusters around the basement room.
“Count off from one to seven, and that will be your group,” Dom quiets the chatter with a booming voice. “I’ll start…one.”
In my head, I count the numbers off quickly and step to the left of Rosie, just in time to say one. I spent a week looking but couldn’t track Dom down. He’s not going to be able to avoid me if we’re working together. He doesn’t seem to give a shit about me. But I give a shit about me, and I’m getting answers.
It’s probably better that I didn’t see him that day. I was an emotional, shaky mess after what I saw. Looking Marcy in the eye is a challenge I’m failing. I’m certain Chase didn’t let on, and maybe she thinks it’s over the drama in class. I haven’t told Luna or Theo about Chase either. I trust them, but then again. How well do I know these people?
Before the end of the meeting, we break off into groups to exchange info and make introductions. Some of the kids are new to me, but most of them I know. Rosie catches my eye with a dirty look. Casually, I look away. I don’t have time to be concerned about hurt feelings and being nice. That doesn’t work around here anyway. Why should I be the only one playing fair?
I stand close to Dom and speak up. “So, what is one?”
Dom glares at me. The corners of his mouth tilt down as if I’ve asked an impossible question.
“Lust,” he answers.
I frown. “Figures,” I say under my breath.
I back off until the meeting ends and kids start filing out the door. I stay on Dom’s heels, and he pretends I don’t exist. He can pretend all he wants, but I’m not going away. We’re the last two in the room, and I quickly step in front of the door, blocking him.
“Well, you have to talk to me now,” I say.
That gets a laugh. “Vicki, what do you want?”
Kids are mingling in the hallway, discussing their ideas in loud, animated voices. Good, I won’t be stuck down here with him alone. I walk fast enough to follow the flow but slow enough to stay with Dom.
“Why did you vote for me?”
Briefly, he looks surprised. He holds open the fire door for me, and we head upstairs, trailing behind a group discussing gluttony. He’s stalling, and then his mask falls back into place.
“Why not?” he replies coolly.
“I asked you the question so I wouldn’t have to guess. Should I rephrase it?” I spin and face him as we exit onto the ground floor. “What’s your motivation in this scene, Dom?”
He laughs weakly at my humor. “My motivation was to see you lose brilliantly.”
My temper flares faster than I can get a straight answer. “What is it with you? You were nice when I met you, and now you’re a jerk. Why? Because I’m from New Jersey?”
He can’t help but smile as we head outside and start down the path toward the resident center. If he tries to take off, I will chase him around the campus. Instead we walk to the back of the building and sit on the curb by the loading dock.
I frown. “I’m serious, douchebag.”
He laughs again. “You’re such a stereotype, Vicki. It’s fun to watch you react. That’s the only honest thing about you.” He stops smiling. “What is it with you? Why can’t you just go away?”
“Are you going to stop spreading rumors about me and my dad?” I ask.
“Does it bother you, princess?”
My eye twitches. “You think I’m a princess?”
He scoffs. “You are. I see the type all the time.”
“That’s not a reason—express yourself, motherfucker. You’re at an art school.”
“You want reasons?” He stares at me, and I don’t look away.
“Yeah, I do.”
But I crack first and light a cigarette to cover my shaky nerves.
“Nothing, you’ve got nothing,” I say. “What a shame. Silas told me he was going to fuck you up too. He said I didn’t have a good enough imagination, but looks like you don’t either.”
Dom’s expression worries me. He looks concerned. He takes the cigarette out of my hands and takes a drag. “When did he say that to you?”
“A few days ago,” I shrug, taking the cigarette back. “He hasn’t done anything yet.”
Dom narrows his eyes. “Vicki, it’s not a joke. Silas is not a stable person. He’s got real shit going on.”
“Like you?”
He sighs and stretches out his tanned legs. I stare at the pale hair covering his golden skin then quick
ly take another hit off the cigarette.
“You want a reason? The real reason?” He takes a deep breath. “I was jealous of you and your dad. You’ve seen mine.”
I don’t say a word.
He nods. “Well, I lived with that shit until I came here. And he’s not the nurturing kind. I learned by watching him fuck people over. I’m not posing in a fairy tale like you.”
“You have no right to judge me.” My tone is even. “You’ve never met my mother.”
Dom looks interested.
“You think you’re the only one getting schooled at home.” I hesitate, gripping the cuffs of my long shirt. No matter how mad I am, I can’t show and tell. “I didn’t have the best home life. And it led to some shit. And it’s not your business.”