Ruthless Rose: A High School Bad Boy Romance (Rosehaven Academy Book 3)

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Ruthless Rose: A High School Bad Boy Romance (Rosehaven Academy Book 3) Page 17

by Leila James


  Chapter 36

  I’ve been actively ignoring Micah’s attempts to contact me since the brief exchange we’d had Saturday morning in the lunchroom. At the time, I’d been speechless. Not ready to talk about anything. More than two days later, I’m still cranky and upset about all of it. It’s for the best that Micah and I are apart. At least, that’s what I keep trying to convince myself of. Deep down, I’m sad. I don’t want him to leave me alone. I want him to get Alora to back off like he promised.

  Unless maybe he really doesn’t care about me at all?

  And here I go again, full circle. I’ve been on this same loop of damaging thinking for the last two days.

  I’ve got AP Calc first, so I have some time to hang out in the hall with Scarlett, Xander, and Max before the bell. They all have the same class together—Mrs. Harden’s English 12. I’d love to be in the same class with all of them but there’s a whole slew of other people in there that I’d rather not be around, including both Alora and Micah. I’ll stick to my nerdy AP Lit class.

  Looking up and down the hall, I tell myself a blatant lie. I’m not looking for Micah. Nope, I’m not. And yet, my eyes scan every person who comes around the corner, searching for the broad shoulders I’d been perched on top of at the party.

  When the tenth person isn’t him, I allow my eyes to drift, noting the costumes students have chosen to wear in honor of Spirit Week. I can tell this is going to be super fun already. Half of the student population is dressed for Decade Day, including Max, who surprised us all by showing up like a reject from Miami Vice. He’s been the only person to put a smile on my face this morning.

  Nothing else has been remotely amusing. Not Mrs. Jayson tracking me down and asking why I’d left the homecoming committee supplies in the lunchroom, and definitely not Alora’s bitchy smirk when she’d passed me in the hall, asking if I’d been scared when she shook the ladder. That girl has a lot of nerve.

  Max pokes me in the side, dragging me from my thoughts. “I don’t get it. Alora was seriously messing with the ladder and made you fall?”

  “She was shaking it and laughing, and when I tried to get down, she shoved it.” I clamp my lips shut. I don’t want to talk about it.

  Xander rubs his hand over his cheek. “Micah was losing his shit when he came back to the locker room. He said you wouldn’t outright admit that Alora knocked over the ladder, but he could tell that’s what happened. And … he really wants to talk things through with you.”

  My face crumples. “He promised he’d talk to Alora. I know he’s torn up about it and looking to make things right, but”—my shoulders lift to my ears before they fall—“I’m already beyond embarrassed about what happened at the party. And I’m just so tired of being the topic of conversation for half the school. I didn’t sign up for this. I didn’t even want to tutor Micah in the first place. I didn’t ask for any of this to happen. I don’t want any of it.” I end on a huff.

  Xander raises his hands. “Look, I’m just telling you what I saw with my own two eyes in the locker room. Micah isn’t fazed by much, but this was different.” He lets out a big sigh. “As for the party, you didn’t get to witness him fly off the handle with Alora. He laid into her like nothing I’ve ever seen before.”

  I roll my eyes, frowning. “That’s probably why she attacked me Saturday morning.”

  “She’s a vindictive little bitch.” Max grits his teeth, shaking his head.

  Scarlett wets her lip. “Daph, can we back up a second? To when you said you don’t want any of it. Tell me honestly—you’re saying you would take back every single moment with Micah if you could?”

  Her question burns deep within my soul. I wouIdn’t take back a single second. I bite my lip, eyes flicking among my friends. I take a deep breath, wondering if I should admit how deeply Micah has buried himself in my heart.

  The PA system interrupts, screeching and clicking. Headmaster Gilmore’s voice fills the halls. “It’s homecoming week, students. We want you to have fun, but let me remind you that your costumes for the week must align with school dress code policies.”

  Scarlett snickers beside me, temporarily distracted from our earlier conversation. “Who wants to tell those girls dressed up as Madonna over there that the miniskirts they’re wearing are about six inches too short?”

  Xander’s brows raise as he peeks over at the girls she’s referring to. Scarlett elbows him in the stomach, but he recovers and wraps an arm around her shoulder, kissing her temple. He murmurs near her ear, “I still like my girl in her schoolgirl uniform best.”

  I probably wasn’t meant to overhear that, but I do. And it kind of makes me miss Micah’s filthy mouth and makes me sad over our current circumstances. Nothing Alora did is his fault. He hasn’t done anything to hurt me, except give me the space I asked him to. I’m such an idiot.

  The PA screeches again, and Max winces. “You’d think with the money our parents donate they’d get that fixed.”

  “And now, Mrs. Jayson, teacher advisor to the homecoming committee, has a special announcement for you.”

  “Good morning, Rosehaven! I’m excited to announce the homecoming king and queen nominees for this year. For our king: Xander Grey, Chris Langford, Beau Danbrook, Lachlan McKinley, Greg Smythe, Micah Robertson, Ryan Lang, and Shayne Crawford. Congratulations, gentlemen. And for our queen …” Mrs. Jayson pauses dramatically.

  I roll my eyes. Whoever thought crowning two people king and queen of a dance was a good idea should be shot. It’s an idiotic tradition.

  Screech. Click. Mrs. Jayson audibly clears her throat into the microphone. “Excuse me. For our queen nominees, we have Alora Berridge, Scarlett Miller, Aria Warrington, Sarah Worley, Danica Seeger, Farrah Kendrick, Elise Tomlinson, and Daphne Davis!”

  Scarlett had snorted with laughter as her name was called, and we’d all smiled, but when mine is called too, our whole group freezes.

  Xander’s voice is a low rumble. “How the hell did that happen?”

  Scarlett’s eyes widen and she smacks his arm. “Xander! Daphne has as much right to be up there as any of those girls.”

  “I only meant it’s nothing more than a popularity contest, and Daphne, no offense, but given how you’ve just spent this morning reiterating to us that you don’t want any sort of attention, well, you don’t strike me as the kind of girl who’d like this.”

  “No, it’s fine.” I give him an understanding smile. “And I agree. It’s really fucking weird.”

  “You don’t think Alo—”

  Before Max can even get the suggestion out, I huff, “Of course it was her.” I have a terrible feeling things are about to go from bad to worse. I can’t believe this. Homecoming queen nominee. I never even contemplated it as a possibility. Bile rises in the back of my throat. This is my worst nightmare. Everyone watching me. Picking me apart. Judging me. “Can’t I decline? Like just bow out?”

  Scarlett’s eyes blaze. “And give those bitches the satisfaction? No way.”

  “But I don’t even want to go. Like, at all.”

  Next to me, Max frowns. “You mean you’re going to leave me dateless?”

  “Oh. We’re really going?”

  He shrugs. “It’s our senior year. I thought maybe, just once, you might want to do something to make some memories of high school outside of the library.”

  Ouch. For Max to say that to me, he must be really frustrated.

  “Alora will be so busy accepting her crown or pouting that Aria won that she won’t bother you.”

  He might be right. Or not. Hard to tell.

  Scarlett leans into Xander, resting her head against his chest. “Daph, we’ll be there for you if you want to go.”

  I nod, the pounding already starting in my head. I really have no idea what to do or even what I want.

  By Spanish class, I have a full-blown migraine. When I gather my things and approach Señora Martinez’s desk about midway through class, I can feel Micah’s eyes on me the entire time whi
le Alora’s gaze burns twin holes in my back. I’m in no shape to stay in school, so I get permission to leave class.

  After a quick stop at the nurse’s office, she allows me to go home before my head gets too bad to drive.

  Somehow, I manage to make it, although my head is threatening to explode at any minute. I toss my things down just inside the door, stop in the kitchen to take some Excedrin, and go directly upstairs where I drop onto my bed. Make it stop. I press my fingers to my temples and close my eyes.

  When they open later, it’s dark in my room, and I can hear my parents quietly talking downstairs in the kitchen. My brain still rebels, but not quite as badly as before. As I make my way down the stairs, I overhear their conversation. About me. Yep.

  Mom whispers, “Do you think she’ll actually go? You know Daphne. She hates stuff like this.”

  “I don’t know. Does she have a date? Did someone ask her?” Dad’s voice is gruff.

  Inhaling deeply, I stop midway down the stairs.

  “I’m not sure.”

  “Would that boy Micah have asked her?”

  “I don’t know. We’ll have to talk to her.”

  Dad mumbles, “For the first time ever, I kind of wish she’d just go with that Max kid.”

  “Daphne’s a smart girl. She has a good head on her shoulders.”

  “Yeah, but even smart girls can get a little dick obsessed. Think back to what you and I were like when we were teenagers.”

  I cringe, my eyes widening. I should make some noise. Let them know I’m here. Something. Shit.

  Mom chuckles. “We were a couple of horny teenagers. But you were the worst.”

  “Do you remember when we did it in the bathroom during movie night with your family?” Dad snorts. “That was good stuff.”

  That’s it. La, la, la, la … I don’t want to hear any more. I purposely stomp hard on the next step before I begin to make my way down. “Mom?”

  Surprise registers in her voice as she says, “We’re in the kitchen, honey.”

  I hope my face doesn’t betray the fact that I just heard my parents discussing how they did the nasty in my grandparents’ bathroom with everyone in the next room. I won’t ever be able to look at that bathroom the same way again.

  Entering the kitchen, both of my parents look up. “Hey. We got the call from the nurse that you’d gone home with a migraine.” Dad tilts his head to the side, assessing me.

  Mom takes a sip of whatever is in her mug, also taking time to scan my face. “Did you take something for it?”

  I nod. “Yeah, some Excedrin Migraine. I still don’t feel very good.”

  “You look a little flushed.”

  No shit. “I do?”

  “Daph?” Mom folds her hands into her lap, glancing quickly at my dad before meeting my gaze again.

  “Yeah?”

  “We also heard about the homecoming queen nomination.”

  “Oh …” I shake my head and shrug. “That’s nothing.”

  Dad’s brows draw together. “Why do you say that?”

  “I just—” No way am I telling them that I’m pretty sure it’s a setup, courtesy of a girl who hates me. I wave a dismissive hand in the air. “It’s no big deal. There were a whole bunch of people nominated.”

  “Maybe we can go dress shopping?” Mom actually looks hopeful. I’m sure she figured that she’d never get a chance to go homecoming dress shopping with me since I’m usually such an introverted stick-in-the-mud.

  “I’m sure I can borrow something.” Actually, I’m not. But maybe I can find something at the secondhand store on the outskirts of town.

  “Oh no, honey. This is a special occasion.”

  I look at Dad, who just shrugs. “Get what you need. We’ll figure it out.”

  Gesturing over my shoulder, I smile. “Thanks, Dad. Um. I’m going to go back to bed.”

  “You don’t want to eat dinner?”

  I shake my head.

  “Okay, honey. Feel better.”

  But I definitely don’t feel better now. We don’t have money for a fancy dress like the ones I imagine all the Roses will be dancing around in. All the way back up the stairs, I feel more and more like crap.

  Chapter 37

  This migraine hangover is going to be the death of me. I always feel awful the day after, so it’s not surprising.

  And maybe I’m also putting my head in the sand with the whole Micah situation—and Alora and all the homecoming stuff—but I decide to just stay home today. Taking a deep breath, I leave my room and stop at the top of the stairs. I lower myself to the top step and sit, folding my arms around my knees. “Mom?” I call out to her in a soft voice.

  Her footsteps sound from around the corner and she pauses at the foot of the stairs. “What’s wrong?” She hurries up to me, immediately putting a hand to my forehead in a gesture that makes me feel a little like I’m a toddler again and need to be taken care of.

  “I still feel like crap. If I e-mail my teachers, do you mind if I stay home and rest? I’ll have them send my assignments.”

  “You’re sure you’re okay? We don’t have anyone else working at the bookstore today. It’s just your dad and me, so I have to go in.”

  I give my head a slow shake. “I’ll be fine. The excitement level at school the week of homecoming is kind of way out there, and I don’t know if I can handle it with my brain still feeling mushy.” That’s part of it, anyway.

  She nods. “Okay. We won’t be back until after closing tonight, but we’ll probably alternate lunch breaks. I can come check on you midday.”

  “I’ll probably be watching TV or sleeping until my teachers can send me stuff. You don’t have to come.”

  Mom leans in, planting a kiss on my cheek. “I know I don’t, but I’m your mother. I’ll see you around noon.”

  I’d probably been dozing for about an hour when my phone vibrates where it rests on my chest. Picking it up and thumbing it open, my brows raise.

  Daph’s Dream Dick: I know you said you needed space, but I feel like you’re hardcore avoiding me.

  That’s because I am.

  Daph’s Dream Dick: Where are you? I waited outside the library after first period, but you never came out.

  It’s unfair of me to continue ignoring his texts. He’s been thinking about me, that much is clear.

  Me: Hey. I’m at home.

  Daph’s Dream Dick: Are you sick?

  Daph’s Dream Dick: I was worried when you left Spanish.

  Daph’s Dream Dick: I thought maybe you couldn’t stand to be in the room with me.

  I chew on my lip. It’s not him, it’s the whole damn situation. Specifically, the vicious little wench always plotting new ways to make my life hell.

  Me: I had a migraine yesterday. Sometimes I don’t feel so hot for a while after.

  Daph’s Dream Dick: Sorry you feel crappy.

  Me: Thanks.

  I don’t know what else to say, so I stare at my phone, unsure if he’s done. Several minutes go by, so I set my phone down and close my eyes. When my eyes blink back open a while later, I realize it’s because my phone’s been vibrating.

  Daph’s Dream Dick: Is there anything you need?

  Daph’s Dream Dick: I’d like to come by. There’s something I want to say to you.

  Daph’s Dream Dick: But I get it if you aren’t up to it.

  I breathe carefully in and out. He wants to see me. Part of me thinks it’s best if he doesn’t. Most of me wants to be wrapped up in his arms and for him to tell me everything’s okay.

  Me: Sorry, I was sleeping.

  Me: You could maybe come over sometime if you want.

  Daph’s Dream Dick: Okay.

  I guess it makes sense that we talk. I’ve felt more and more guilty for not reaching out to him after the weekend’s events. He isn’t the one who spewed venom at me at the party, nor did he knock me from the ladder. But I know him and I know he feels responsible.

  We’ve only been apart a few d
ays but I miss him more than I would have dreamed possible.

  Mom had come home and brought me lunch but hadn’t stayed long. I’m feeling a lot better, but that didn’t stop me from shuffling around in purple pajama pants, a ratty old Empire Strikes Back T-shirt, and my pink bunny slippers all day long. It’s actually been kind of nice to have a day at home where I don’t have to worry about what anyone thinks of me and can focus on myself.

  I have plans to work on my French homework in a while, and I’ve just finished putting on one of those detoxifying mud masks when the doorbell rings. I freeze in place. Who the heck could that be? My eyes dart back and forth, mild panic setting in. Crap. I know what I look like with one of these masks on. It’s just my luck that someone would come to the house the second I apply one. Normally, no one would even be home to answer the door. Maybe I can ignore it.

  The bell rings again, then there’s a knock. Whoever is there doesn’t seem to be leaving. I scurry from my room into my parents’ bedroom, which overlooks the street. It’s almost as if whoever it is knows I’m here.

  Oh, shit.

  Micah’s SUV is parked out from on the street. O-M-G. When I said he could come over sometime, I didn’t think he’d show up in the middle of the school day—today. I run my hands over my hair, which is in a knot on the top of my head, and glance down over my lounge-around-at-home outfit. Another rap sounds at the door. I can just imagine all six foot three of him standing on the other side of my door looking completely edible and here I am looking like—

  My phone vibrates right in my hand.

  Daph’s Dream Dick: Daph? Are you in there?

  Me: Yes. You have poor timing.

 

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