You're To Blame: A High School Bully Romance (Haven Saints High)

by Brooke Jordan

  “Chelsea, are you all right?”

  I glanced to my right. “Dad, of course.”

  The lie fell from my lips so easily. I wondered what Ethan said to Tate.

  Dancing the night away with my friends and Ethan would make for one hell of a night. I needed to blow off steam. Even if it was at Tate’s mansion. A smile tipped my lips. Nothing like a little embarrassment for Brittany tonight. Yeah, party of the fucking year.

  The football game was tied at the half. Dad and I watched football on TV on Sundays. This was definitely one of the best I’d seen. It was a night of sacking the quarterbacks. Ethan was thrust to the ground by our team’s defensive lineman. And vice versa. Tate faked a few passes, ridding himself of the problem and that tactic won us the game.

  I sighed when the game came to an end. Ethan walked away unscathed.

  Tate stood centerfield, raising the football in one hand and a picture of his twin brother in the other. The fans in the bleachers stood.

  “I’d like to dedicate this first win of the season to the memory of my brother Mason.”

  Tate’s father raised his fist in the air. “For Mason!” he shouted.

  The crowd chanted, “Mason.”

  Brittany shook her pom-poms in the air, peeking at me with a devilish smile plastered across her porcelain face. I wanted nothing more than to wipe that stupid grin off her face with the sole of my sneaker.

  ∞

  The memory mom and dad shared must have still lingered, because they were going on a date and would return in the morning. Nanny Nina catered to Emma and Carson. I ram sacked my oversized plush closet in search of a cute dress.

  “Yes!” I screeched. The perfect pale pink tight dress had semi sheer long sleeves, and stopped mid-thigh.

  After a hot shower, I tamed my unruly locks.

  Connie called. I told her I’d meet her outside the gate.

  I slipped on a pair of ballerina slippers. Clutching my heels behind my back in one hand, I glided down the wide winding marble staircase. My fingers slipped down the cool black iron banister. I halted in the living room. “Nina.”

  She tore her attention from the movie she was watching with Carson and Emma. “Don’t you look pretty.”

  “Thank you. I’m hanging at my friend Connie’s for a few hours. I’ll be back around midnight.”

  Her slanted eyes narrowed. “A minute later and your mother would receive a call,” she warned.

  I smirked. “Midnight it is.”

  I leaned over the sofa. “Goodnight, Emma and Carson.” I smothered them with kisses. They chuckled.

  “Goodnight,” they sang one after the other.

  I was out of the house in a flash, jogging through the wrought-iron gate.

  “I need to make this the best hour and a half, I can.” I waved my hands over my head and swayed my body.

  Connie and Megan, waved their hips too. I slipped on my pink stilettos and pushed my slippers into my tiny purse hanging on my shoulder.

  My heels made us all similar heights. I still was the tallest

  My perfect street was lined with decorative street lamps, lighting our path.

  “Why can’t you stay out later?” Megan asked as we strolled across the street.

  “My nanny…”

  They chuckled.

  Connie’s face contorted. “You have a nanny?”

  “The five-year-old twins have a nanny.” I gestured my hands in front of me. “Maybe my siblings and I have a nanny. Doesn’t matter. She’s threatening to tell my parents who are on a romantic overnight stay at a luxury hotel downtown, if I’m not home by midnight.”

  “Oh, shit, we’re hanging with Cinderella tonight, Connie.”

  They laughed.

  I lightly shoved Megan into Connie. My lips formed an O as we walked through the influx of expensive sports cars, circling Tate’s driveway.

  “This shit has to be lit,” Connie clutched our hands.

  Music vibrated my body the second we walked through the door. I bobbed my head to the beat. “Red cup central,” I joked.

  “Let’s make a beeline to the kitchen,” Connie yelled over the music.

  A sea of kids danced in the center of the living room. The walls were graced with expensive oversized paintings. His mother loved those paintings. She might kill him if one were damaged. Rainbow strobe lights danced throughout. Every corner of the massive living room was filled with a warm body. Rather guys were making out with a girl in the corner or plotting with friends who’d they’d hook up with before the night was over.

  “Follow me.”

  The girls were on my heels. I shouldered through the crowd into the kitchen. The line for the keg was too long.

  “Damn, what time did the party start? Feels like we’re late.” I laughed.

  “Excuse me,” I said to a guy leaning against the golden-brown marble counter. The guy nursing a drink, stepped aside. I crouched, opening the cabinet, retrieving a gallon of vodka.

  I stood peeking over my shoulder. “Drinks ladies?”

  Smiles brightened their faces.

  Connie grabbed three red cups, placing them next to the vodka. “Spill bitch. How do you know your way around Tate Forrester’s house?”

  I fanned my dark tresses over my shoulder. “I’ve known Tate all of my life. Our mothers have been best friends forever. Despite what happened years ago, they patched up their friendship. We have dinner with his family almost every week.”

  Their eyes were the size of saucers.

  “You’ve been holding out. What else haven’t you told us?” Megan inched her cup closer to the bottle.

  I poured vodka in each of our cups. “Connie, can you grab the cran-apple juice out of the fridge please? It’s on the door.”

  The look of amazement on their faces was priceless. Was I supposed to run around telling anyone who’d listen how well I knew their football captain?

  “There you are, babe.” Ethan threw his hands in the air.

  I smiled at Ethan. He walked toward me followed by a few fellow football jocks.

  His arms wrapped around my slender body. Ethan’s lips swept my neck. “You smell good, Chelsea.”

  He had to be about six-three.

  “Thank you.”

  He stepped back and introduced us to his friends.

  “How long have you guys been here?”

  His blue eyes combed the room. “About thirty minutes.”

  He instructed one of his friends to grab him a beer.

  Ethan wore a navy and white Abercrombie T-shirt tight across his broad chest. He wore loose fitting jeans and black sneakers.

  “I see you ladies are drinking the hard stuff.” His lips perked up. “Top shelf.” He acknowledged. “Would you like a beer?” Ethan’s eyes grazed our faces.

  “Yes,” Megan stated.

  “No thanks,” Connie said.

  I shook my head. “Sorry about the game.”

  His jaw ticked. “I feel better now that I’m here with you.” He smirked.

  His golden curly locks graced his shoulders. I was tempted to sweep my fingers through his hair. Girls stared at him in passing. He was gorgeous. Dreamy blue eyes and sexy bushy brows. I went from being a reject on the first day of school, to girls envying me. Wishing they were me.

  Brittany strutted through the kitchen with her cheerleading crew, nipping at her stilettos. She wore a tight black sleeveless dress. Her blonde hair cascaded down her back. A sneaky smile crept upon her lips the second she saw me. I held my head high.

  “Couldn’t have Tate so you found a knock off QB,” she snarled, stepping closer.

  My fingers swept over his muscled chest. “Oh, you meant him. The handsome guy standing at my side every girl is making googly eyes at.”

  He chuckled, clutching my hip.

  “I don’t want Tate. Never have.” I lied now standing toe to toe. “You and your slut crew can have him. Now get the hell out of my face before I slam your pretty face into the keg and it's not pr
etty anymore.” Fake remorse flashed across my face.

  Her lips tightened. “Fuck you, fake barbie.” She snarled, sashaying away.

  I lunged forward, Ethan, gripped my hips, pulling me flush against him. “Don’t worry about her. She wishes she was you.” His lips melted against the top of my head.

  My body heated, but not the same way it did when Tate was near.

  A wave of chills shot through my body. Speak of the devil.

  “Chet, grab me a beer,” Tate ordered his lackey.

  His jaw tightened as his eyes roamed my frame.

  Shit! I needed to run the other way. My goal was to have fun tonight without laying an eye on Tate. My body quivered as our eyes locked.

  Ethan squeezed my waist tighter.

  “What the fuck is this, Ethan?” Tate growled.

  Ethan pushed off the counter and flashed a sexy smile. “What I told you it was on the field. Why would I lie about dating Chelsea exclusively?”

  They held a conversation like I wasn’t there.

  Tate stepped closer, crushing me between them. Jesus, he smelled so good.

  He grabbed Ethan’s shirt and whispered something in his ear.

  Ethan laughed. “No way. Fuck you, Tate.” His deep voice rattled my insides.

  What the fuck were they talking about? Tate clutched his shirt tighter and held up his fist.

  I shoved Tate back. The entire room froze. “Drop it Tate. Again, he’s your enemy. Not mine. Tonight, we’re having fun. You guys can go back to being enemies tomorrow.”

  He chuckled. His cold eyes stared into mine. “When he takes your virginity and never talks to you again don’t say I didn’t try to stop it.” He stormed off.

  The chatter in the room resumed. I felt like I’d been socked in the chest and couldn’t catch my breath. Second warning. This time from my fucking enemy.

  Connie shoved the red cup in my hand. I gulped the harsh liquid, burning my throat and chest as the contents dumped into my stomach like a forest fire.

  “Are you ok?” Ethan whispered in my ear.

  “Yeah.” I peeked up at him. “We’re going to walk around. We’ll meet up in a little while. Ok?” My lips planted against his cheek.

  “Yeah, sure.”

  I didn’t want him to get suspicious. Tate’s words swarmed my brain. Vodka bottle in one hand, red cup in the other, Connie, Megan and me strolled toward the next room.

  “Pizza’s here,” someone yelled out.

  Connie grabbed my arm. “Once sec. I’ll grab a plate of pizza for us to share.”

  “Which cabinet are the plates in?”

  I smirked. “To the left second tall cabinet.”

  The girls snickered.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  “Megan.” A familiar voice came into earshot.

  I peered into Matt’s stone-cold face. He was the only one of Tate’s friends who was sixteen. Didn’t matter they were the best of friends.

  “Matt.” Her face was just as cold.

  What the fuck was going on?

  “I didn’t know you two knew each other.” My brow wrinkled.

  “You’ve been away for a long time, Doll.” A smile brightened his handsome face. He slipped an arm around my neck.

  “Did Chelse tell you Megan, we’ve been the best of friends since we were toddlers.”

  My smile dropped. “We aren’t anymore. Your mother barely comes around. You know since…”

  He sighed. “So, what. That’s between our parents not us.”

  “What about Marisa? She doesn’t talk to me either.”

  “Again, forget them. I told you last week we’re besties for life,” he snickered.

  I bounced my hip against his thigh. “Agreed.”

  “I’m ready.” Connie stepped closer holding a plate towering with pizza.

  “Fuck I was starving.” Matt snatched two slices off the top.

  “See you around, Megan.” Matt darted off in the opposite direction.

  “Megan, you have to spill.” We sat on an empty lounge chair by the oblong pool.

  “I’m listening, Megan.” I stuffed my face with a slice of pepperoni pizza.

  “I don’t know how to explain our complicated relationship. Matt and I have known each other since seventh grade.”

  My brow wrinkled. “Wait, you’re in the same grade as Matt?”

  “Yup.”

  “Her dad Bret George is the creator of the hot new sports car everyone’s driving lately. She’s filthy rich,” Connie stated.

  “Why do you sit with us?”

  “Oh, please. We’re all rich. That doesn’t determine your status.”

  “It can if you want it to.”

  She was right. We were all rich. My family and Tate’s family came from old money. My father’s family was rich too. His father was the governor twice for our great state of Georgia. They were disappointed he didn’t follow in his father’s footsteps. I guess you could say he married up though. My grandparents were oil rich. My mother was a brilliant heart surgeon. She didn’t want to let her wealth define her. She worked hard to mold her image. I planned to follow in her footsteps and become a doctor.

  “Connie what’s your story?”

  “My mother is the great designer of the alligator bag everyone carries around that’s expensive as a small car.”

  My eyes grew in size. “Shit, so you have a natural talent for design.”

  She shrugged. “I guess. My mom doesn’t think my designs are up to her forte. She said I need to keep working.”

  I patted her back. “Lift your chin up. You are the designer of my prom dress. Everyone’s jaw will drag along the ground when I walk into Prom.”

  She swiped at the stray tear that graced her pretty angelic face. “Thanks, Chelsea.”

  “Hey losers. What are you guys doing out here?” Rocco sat on the lounge chair next to us. The girl occupying the chair turned up her nose and scurried off. We laughed. Trevor sat beside him.

  “Where have you guys been?”

  “I was gaming.”

  “Yeah, he was in the zone,” Trevor stuck out his cup toward me.

  I poured vodka in his cup.

  “This party is lit,” Rocco said, scanning the clusters of people, standing around the lush backyard.

  “You missed the action.”

  Rocco’s head swiveled toward Connie. I nudged her arm.

  “Relax it’s better they hear it from us than someone else.”

  I shrugged.

  Connie brought the guys up to speed on tonight’s events.

  Rocco shook his head. “See Chelsea, Ethan’s too confident. I don’t normally agree with Tate, but I think dude’s up to no good.”

  My stomach twisted in knots. Why was I the only one who didn’t get that vibe? Maybe because I was the person who spoke to him every day.

  I sipped the raw contents in my cup no cranberry juice to lessen the burn this time.

  Of all people to see at that very moment. Brittany. Her arms were locked around Tate’s neck in the corner near the patio doors. Our eyes met, and she winked.

  Fucking bitch. Revenge time. I slid my cell from my purse and pecked away on the keys.

  “Rocco.” I leaned over.

  “You sure this account can’t be traced back to me?”

  He smirked and glanced at Brittany, then back at me. “Positive.”

  After everyone left the pizzeria last week, Rocco, and I huddled together, working out my revenge plan. He created an untraceable social media account. I tapped a couple of buttons on the screen and uploaded the video to the social media site. #Realfriends was the only word plastered across the top of the post.

  Megan peeked over my shoulder. “What are you two up to over here?”

  I pressed share and clicked off the screen. “Nothing.”

  “Trevor, entertain us for a cup of vodka.”

  He jumped up. “I’d entertain you gorgeous ladies for far less.” He winked.

  I fell against the g
irls, laughing.

  He pulled up his shirt, revealing his washboard abs. We hollered and clapped. I couldn’t speak for the girls, but I was feeling the liquor.

  “Oh, no you won’t hog the spotlight.” Rocco pushed his glasses up his nose and shook his ass.

  My face hurt from laughing so hard. A crowd formed around us. A few other guys joined in to entertain us. Truly one of the best nights of my life. I lived in the moment, forgetting about my ongoing feud.

  ~

  Twenty minutes later. “Asshole. How could you?” rang out across the yard.

  Our circle opened up. My eyes swept over Brittany’s wet red face.

  Jackpot, bitch. A small smile tipped my lips. Veronica and the rest of the crew rushed onto the patio. “What’s wrong, Brittany?”

  She held up her cell. “You hooked up with my boyfriend tonight! How could you?”

  Everyone stared at their cells, whispering and staring at Brittany and her friends. I glimpsed at my cell. One thousand views in the short time I posted it. Fucking felt good to stab that bitch right in the heart like she did to me.

  Veronica eyes bulged. “Let me explain. I’m sorry.” They trailed behind her as she fled the scene.

  Another one of my favorite songs blared through the speakers. I jumped up and shook my ass too. Everyone sang along to the popular Drake song. Fucking epic.

  Tate was laughing with his buddies minutes later.

  My friends and I ran onto the dancefloor jumping up and down. Ethan appeared out of nowhere. He yelled the words to the song as he swayed my hips. Ethan picked me up and slid my body down his. Everyone screamed at our little dance. My face fell against his chest. I caught a whiff of weed. My eyes met his hooded gaze. His lips fell upon my temple. “Relax.” His big hands waved my hips again. “I want to see you again. How about tomorrow?”

  “Sounds like a plan.”

  Heat swallowed the crowd. Shit, I was burning up. My friends vacated the floor.