Beverly Hills Prep Academy The Complete Boxset : A Light Bully Romance

by Melissa Adams

  The bitch also keeps her handbag in her locker with her spare locker key and I used my foundation compact as a mould to take an imprint of the key, so next time I’ll have a copy.

  It would've been so much easier to hack into a computer system but aside from being a giant pain in the ass, Ms. Webber’s also stuck in prehistoric times by using photocopies that she hands out with the passages we’re supposed to translate.

  So each time, I’ll have to get the assignments from her locker in advance.

  I’ll find a translation online, memorise it and that's my Latin grade taken care of.

  When I show EM the screenshots he freaks out about a million things:

  “Michelle, this is dangerous! Ms. Webber's not an idiot. What if she realises that you’ve been cheating?”

  I sit on his lap and wrap my arms around his neck: dude’s spineless but I’ve got to say that he's smart and he's turned from disgusting fatty to fuckable hottie in the space of a summer.

  “Did you cut into the feed of the teacher's lounge CCTV while I was in there?”

  He nods.

  “Ok, then. You should know by now that I’m not that dumb. I also took a photo of Ms. Webber's grading system: a mistake with the syntax or the grammar gets marked in blue pen.

  So four blue mistakes give you a D. A not so great choice of terminology or a historically incorrect vocabulary is marked in red pen.

  You lose a grade for every two red marks. So I’m not so stupid that I’ll give her a perfect translation next time. I’ll go for a C- in the mock test and C plus for the exam. Enough to get back into the cheer squad. And then I’ll make sure that my grades improve gradually and I’ll be getting A pluses like little Miss Twunt by the end of the semester.”

  “Wouldn't it be better to put in the work? I don't mind tutoring you—”

  And this is why EM will never make the A-Team, nor amount to anything in life: he’s lucky he found me.

  “Or, you don't need to tutor me because I’ve got the grades taken care of and we can use those weekly hours for a different kind of tutoring. I’ll teach you how to fuck like a proper porn star. And if you fuck Ayla that’ll come in handy but if I get my way, you won't need to. Because by the end of this semester, there won't be any A-Team left and I’d be surprised if the guys will even still speak to each other. Ayla? I’d rather her quit BHPA voluntarily but expulsion works too.”

  So, the first part of my plan was the easiest: get my grades up in Ms. Webber's class.

  The second part, I won't tell EM until he needs to know and anyway it takes a lot more work.

  Michelle

  I WALK TOWARDS TUNA as soon as I see him leave the building: he sees a therapist every Saturday morning and he always goes alone.

  I don't think anyone else knows except for Alex and Sam and I only know because once, last year when I was still dating Sam, we had to pick Tuna up after a session and Sam made me swear on my life that I wouldn't tell a soul.

  I’ve kept my promise: not because I give a shit about Tuna, but because not even I want to look that much of a bitch at school and Tuna is well liked by everyone with his easy smile and his sweet attitude.

  “Hey, Tuna...”

  He pretends not to see me and keeps walking.

  Asshole!

  This is another reason why the A-Team has to go down: all this male solidarity and brotherhood makes me sick to my stomach.

  Also, I’d have convinced Sam to take me back if Alex and Tuna hadn't been whispering nasty stuff about me in his ear.

  “Tuna!”

  He turns around with a glare:

  “Michelle, I don't know what you're doing here but whatever it is, I’m not interested, so go before I decide to run you over if you don't let go of my car door.”

  I smile: he plays all strong and fearless now but wait until I’m done with him and his brothers!

  “I think you might wanna hear what I’ve got to say, Tuna. I really have an offer you can't refuse...”

  His scowl gets deeper:

  “I doubt you can offer me anything I’d ever want, Michelle. I told you to move!”

  I hand him two pieces of paper with this month's Latin mock test and exam.

  Tuna might be the slowest of the three but he’s far from dumb, so he understands straight away what he's holding.

  “Where did you get this shit and why are you giving it to me?”

  I shrug:

  “Don't you want to get back into the football team?”

  He doesn't budge.

  “I might... But what's it to you? That's what I don't understand.”

  My smile widens:

  “I’d like EM off the starting team. He’s getting too much of a big head and he thinks that he’s as good as you three now. So, let’s say that after the experience with Sam, I prefer a man I can control.”

  He takes the pieces of paper and after studying them for a second he nods.

  “Thanks, I guess?”

  “I’ll give you the new ones every month until the end of the school year in exchange for a small favour.”

  He looks perplexed.

  “I thought I was doing you a favour by kicking EM off the starting team...”

  “You are, but I’m taking a huge risk getting those tests and by sharing my secret. If this comes out, I risk expulsion. So I think it's worth a little more than keeping EM off the team. Plus it means more time with your precious Ayla to do other activities rather than studying...”

  He growls:

  “What do you want, Michelle?”

  “I want you to find a way to get Alex to take me to senior Prom at the end of the year.”

  He barks out a laugh, scornful and amused at the same time.

  “That'll happen when hell freezes over, Michelle! He thinks you’re a skunk and a bitch too.”

  I don't flinch at his insult but smile softly.

  “You’ll do all that's in your power to get me to be Prom Queen and have Alex as my date and my King.”

  He shakes his head.

  “Even admitting that it would be possible, why would I do that? I wouldn't wish a date with you on my worst enemy!”

  I lose my shit!

  I push him against his car door: I know I’m small and short but when I’m pissed off, I sometimes scare even myself.

  “You’ll be sorry for being a rude asshole! Not only, you’ll get me that date with Alex, but you’ll be my bitch, Tuna! You’ll do everything I ask you to do or else, I’ll tell sweet little Ayla about your disgusting bet. And I’ll let the faculty have these two recordings.”

  I play for him his make out session in the car with Ayla and the recording of him playing it to the guys last week in the locker room.

  When I got EM to hack into their phones, I got access to their videos, photos, recordings. I can even turn on a recording app on their phones and I always have one recording their locker rooms convos.

  Tuna’s suddenly pale.

  “May I remind you, that what you’ve been doing is bullying? You’re eighteen and Ayla isn't for another couple of weeks. Not only if this got out, you’d be expelled from school, but if I went to the police...”

  “Why are you doing this?”

  I laugh: guys are so fucking stupid!

  “Because you were the one who told Sam I was cheating and you’ve been whispering into his ear not to take me back when he was about to give in. So now, Alexander Atkinson, you’re my bitch! And it won't be all bad. I’ll help you win the bet if you play by my rules, so at the end, you'll get the girl too! Well, I’ve got a mani-pedi to go to, so... See ya!”

  Ayla

  “BLUE EIGHTEEN, HUT, hut, hut!”

  When Alex shouts those totally mysterious words and throws the football, the guys start running in all directions, tackling each other.

  “I seriously don't understand football and I never will.”

  “And yet, you're dating not one, not two but three football players...”

  Char says tha
t shaking her head and laughing as she's sitting by my side on the bleachers.

  I’m waiting for Tuna, as after practice today we have our first Latin lesson.

  Char’s waiting for Jenna, who to her boyfriend’s disappointment, decided to tryout for the cheerleading team and got in.

  “Are you excited about spending some time one on one with Tuna?”

  My friend winks at me and I blush up to my hair roots.

  I told the girls how I’ve been on a couple of dates with Sam and Alex and there were some kisses but the guys where very restrained which was surprising especially for Alex, seeing how our first date went.

  Alex however, has started calling me every night before bed time and we actually talk: he hasn't tried to have phone sex with me after that first phone call a couple of weeks ago but we talk about lots of different things.

  He’s so intelligent and he's got such an interesting view of the world, despite admitting that he's self-centred.

  He obviously made me swear not to ever repeat that in public but I really love his sense of humour and he adores making me laugh.

  The only topic that seems completely taboo is his family, except for his little sister Abi.

  Things with Tuna...

  Are hot.

  There's no other way to put it: he picks me up every day and drives us both to school.

  Of course we stop somewhere along the way and we don't even talk, we just kiss for as long as we can without being late to school or football practice.

  If you’d told me that I’d be into something like this only two months ago, I would have never believed it: that I’d like to just let a boy kiss me and hold me and I wouldn't even care much about talking.

  But this is the thing: Tuna is so sexy!

  The way he looks at me, the way his hands are so gentle and he always asks if he can touch my boobs and he never tries to push me further than that.

  When I told Jenna and Char, they were surprised:

  “He must really be serious about you, Ayla. He’s been with as many girls as Alex has. So if he's being so patient, that means that he really cares.”

  I objected that I told him that I’ve never had a boyfriend before but that didn't seem to make a difference according to my girlfriends.

  “Look, babe, those two guys and Sam, in the short amount of time he's been single, have collected more v-cards at BHPA than you could imagine. Girls knew when one of them took them out that there would be sex on the cards. You're the one they changed for, so they must really care.”

  And when I told them that I was asked to tutor Tuna by Ms Webber, they declared that I needed a Brazilian wax.

  “But, but... I’m not ready to have sex, so I don't think—”

  They looked at each other and sighed.

  “The fact that you aren't ready, doesn't mean that you won't do it anyway, Ayla. And there's a lot of other things that could happen for which you’d be grateful that you took your besties’ advice.”

  So I went with them: it was easier than fighting them.

  And it was a traumatic experience: getting your hoo-hah waxed everywhere?

  Painful as fuck.

  “So, how do things feel down there now?”

  I was puffy and sore for about two days but now I’m back to normal.

  Char nods.

  “Yeah, that's why we took you three days ago. You’ll thank us later.”

  I’m about to tell her that I seriously doubt that Tuna will see my lady bits when I spot him walking towards us: he’s changed out of his football gear and his hair is still damp from the shower.

  Alex and Sam are right behind him.

  The three guys are laughing among each other and as they walk closer, we hear bits of their conversation.

  “You know what I’m starting to think? That you bombed the Latin test on purpose, so you’d get to be tutored by Ayla.”

  Alex provokes him and Tuna glares at him.

  “Yeah, right! How would I know that she's a Latin wiz? For all I know, I could’ve got stuck with your ugly ass as a tutor!”

  Alex flips his friend off, making Sam laugh.

  “Yeah, but now that we know, I might try to fail mine on purpose this month, so I get to spend one on one time with our beautiful girl.”

  “Yeah, right! Try that one! If you both get kicked off the team, coach’ll have you hanging in the cafeteria by your balls.”

  “Are you ready, princess?”

  Tuna winks at me and as I rush to his side, he takes my hand in his.

  Sam kisses my temple before I go and Alex my cheek.

  The few football players and cheerleaders who see that scene, are all staring intensely but no one dares say anything: at least not in front of Alex.

  What they’ll say as soon as we turn our backs?

  All bets are off.

  The drive to Tuna’s house is short and we ride in comfortable silence, but he takes my hand in his and keeps it until he leaves the driver seat to come and open the passenger door for me.

  His house is as big as Alex’s and it makes even the house we’re living in now look small.

  We enter into a grand foyer: there’s dark wood and marble everywhere.

  “I thought that we could study in my room: there won't be anyone home until dinner time but no one would disturb us anyway in there.”

  We cut through a huge kitchen with a massive breakfast bar and every appliance imaginable and Tuna offers me a bottle of water from the fridge that I take really gratefully: it's the end of September and in Chicago, it would start to get already chilly, while here in California, it still feels like full blown summer.

  As we climb up the huge mahogany stairs, I notice a number of framed photos hanging on the walls.

  A lot of them portray Tuna, Alex and Sam and a blonde haired girl.

  “Who’s that?”

  I ask, observing that the girl has something familiar.

  A shadow passes in Tuna’s eyes, and he looks as if he were trying to hold back tears.

  “She's my sister. Was my sister... Polly. She died almost two years ago.”

  His tone isn't angry but it's quite clear that he doesn't wanna talk about her right now, so I don't insist.

  Tuna’s room is huge and decorated with the tones of cream and dark blue.

  It’s a tidy room, except for a video game console that's a mess of wires and opened games cases.

  He guides me towards a sitting area with a plush couch upholstered in a tartan motif and faced by a wide wooden coffee table.

  I open my book and we begin from the basics that Tuna seems to know quite well.

  So I’m pretty surprised that he got the lowest possible grade in his test and I tell him.

  He closes his book with a thud and sighs:

  “Look Ayla, I don't want you to think that I’m an idiot but... I guess if we keep hanging out together, or... Fuck, ok! Let’s call it what it is, if we keep dating, you’ll find out sooner or later. I’m dyslexic and it takes me a lot longer than most to get to a certain level.”

  I don't understand why he's so embarrassed, it's not his fault if he has a learning issue.

  “But if you told Ms. Webber, I’m sure she—”

  He cuts me off.

  “No. You don't get it, princess. The school doesn't know. At first I didn't say anything because I was ashamed. Then Alex and Sam have been helping me with lots of extra studying and that’s how I passed the entrance exam for the A-Class. Just about, but still... I’ve been telling them that I wasn't A-Class material but they wouldn't listen. They made me study so hard and I confess that with other classes, we downloaded all the past tests and exams, of the last ten years and the teachers or the State for what matters, don’t change stuff up that much. So most of the questions I actually recognised. Ms. Webber does things the old fashioned way, so there's no records to access or statistics to study on what questions she'll choose. This is why I’ll have to try the hard way. But if I tell the school now... I’m wor
ried that they’ll kick me out of the A-Class and our plan, with Sam and Alex is to go to Yale, together.”

  “But I don't think they’d kick you out, they—”

  He caresses my cheek, his big hand warm and a little rough.

  “Look, my parents were so proud of me when I made the A-Class! I’ll have to find a way to pass Ms. Webber's class. I’ll study harder. Trust me, I’ve done it before to keep up with Sam and Alex. Those two are fucking geniuses! But you know what would make all this better?”

  “No.”

  I say in a small voice: suddenly aware of the fact that we’re alone in his bedroom, that his knee is touching mine.

  “A kiss from the prettiest girl in the whole school and possibly the whole of Beverly Hills...”

  I’m about to crack a joke about who would that be when his lips slant onto mine and the words elude me because all that matters right now is how good he tastes and how hot his kiss is making me.

  When his lips start descending down my neck, I relax into his arms and I let out a little moan when he cups my boob gently, like he’s been doing every morning in his car.

  But this time, his hands start undoing the buttons of my shirt and his lips trace the top of my collar bone and my breastbone.

  I’m unable to speak: I’m excited and scared at the same time.

  “Ayla, you're so beautiful...”

  His voice is as warm as his breath is on my skin when he says that with his lips against my neck.

  And suddenly, his hand leaves my boob but I don't have time to miss that contact because it finds my knee and starts touching up my leg, giving me goosebumps and making that familiar heat build up between my legs but this time the feeling is much more intense because we're alone in his room, behind a closed door and his eyes are as hot as liquid amber.

  His hand stops about two inches from the base of my thigh, his fingers curling on the inside of it when he looks at me with those incredible hazel eyes and asks me:

  “Ayla, please, can I make you feel good?”