There's a photo of me and Reece supporting a drunk Chaz and one of me climbing into the backseat of Pryce’s convertible mustang when we left after the earthquake.
“Hey, new girl! I heard you're Richmond’s sister?”
The team quarterback is standing next to me with a smile on his classically handsome face: he’s about six two, so as tall as Reece, and as well built but the similarities end there.
Maxwell Alistair has short dark brown hair and dark brown eyes, a square jaw and a smile worthy of a toothpaste commercial.
He’s very attractive and popular being our starting quarterback, so I’m not surprised that I overheard a few girls on the team hoping out loud to be assigned to him as his rally girl.
“Yes, Alex is my big brother. I’m Abilene. But everyone calls me Abi.”
“I’m Max, nice to meet you.”
He extends his hand to shake mine, which looks a bit formal but that's another thing that he has in common with Reece: they always look a bit guarded, as if they were trying hard not to let the world see the real them.
We chat for a few minutes and Max asks me with a smile:
“Where did Alex keep you hidden? I surely would've remembered you if you’d gone to school here at BHPA ...”
I explain that I attended a boarding school in England.
“It's called St. Mary’s.”
“A catholic school?”
I nod and his smile widens.
“Listen, Abi, how are you getting home? I’d be honoured to give you a ride.”
His brown eyes are intense and he’s got a slightly unnerving way of staring into your eyes when he talks to you. Not creepy but probing.
“Hmm, thank you but I'm ok. I have a ride home.”
He insists.
“But I don't live too far from you, I ...”
“Really, Max, thank you. But Pryce lives just next door.”
His smile fades away as quickly as it had appeared.
“Pryce Andrews? How well do you know him?”
I blush, I can feel it because my cheeks are literally on fire.
“I, uhm ...”
How can I tell him that as far boys go, I think I know Pryce better than any other boy out there? Or at least his lips ...
So I decide on a more diplomatic:
“We’re ... friends.”
Max keeps probing.
“I see. How about Reece and Chaz?”
“I ... we ...”
Max finally gives up but there's a frown on his face.
“Well, I don't wanna keep you from hanging out with your boys.”
“They’re not—”
He doesn't give me time to correct his assumption, even though, hearing Pryce, Reece and Chaz defined as ‘my boys’ is something that makes my pulse rate faster.
Max says goodbye, looking disappointed but I’ve no time to dwell on it because Pryce, Chaz and Reece come out of the locker room and while none of them touches me, their smiles make me feel like I’m on top of the world.
The day after, Pryce picks me and the others up for school and we’re all kind of excited about finding out the rally girl pairings.
I really hope to be assigned to one of them: Pryce is so funny and sweet, Reece is broody and hot and Chaz ... I don't know Chaz that well and he has a sort of sadness in his hazel eyes but at the same time, with all his piercings and tattoos, he also has a gentleness about him that really calls out to me.
We know that while BHPA is a modern academy and we’ll get a notification by text, every important announcement gets pinned on the announcement board in the main hallway, so we all rush there.
I look down the list and ... I’m Max’s rally girl.
Lissa has got Reece, Marlene has got Pryce and Kylie has got Chaz.
Gabbie is paired with a linebacker named Scott.
Kylie seems disappointed and flutters her eyelashes at Max:
“Aww ... I was hoping to be assigned to you!”
Last night's smile is gone from the quarterback’s face: he’s staring at me and his lips are pursed in a thin, straight line.
“Oh, don’t worry, Ky-Ky. Maybe we can get Mrs Stubbs to change the pairings. I’m sure that after all, Abi’ll be happier with Chaz and you’ll be safer with Max. Right, Maxie?”
Max grumbles something, ignoring Marlene and walking away followed by Lissa.
Marlene and Kylie give me a cold stare and walk away with their shoulders rigid, whispering to each other.
I think one of them whispers the word ‘slut’ but I can't be sure.
The morning classes go fast: yesterday the teachers were nice because it was the first day of school. Today, they're starting to load us with homework and announcing pop quizzes on a weekly basis.
As lunch time comes, I head to the cafeteria with Gabbie but I stop at my locker:
“I just need to get the book for Latin Literature out of my locker.”
She waits by my side and I’m absolutely hopeless with locks, so it takes me a minute to open the locker and I end up pulling too hard, stumbling and running over a girl who just happened to be walking behind me.
She ends up on the floor and I’m mortified, so I start apologising profusely and offer her my hand to help her up.
She glares at me and her words leave me quite shocked.
“No thanks, slut!”
“Hey! What the hell is wrong with you?”
Gabbie isn't impressed with the other girl's manners, I’m not either but I decide to let it go: at my old school the other girls were often very rude if not outright aggressive towards me.
The girl scurries away and Gabbie and I make our way towards the cafeteria.
“Abi, you need to stand up for yourself, girl. Did you see her green scarf? She was a sophomore. Come on, at least a bit of respect for the seniors, especially the A-Class!”
Gabbie refers to our school uniform: we all wear a charcoal grey suit with a white shirt.
The details that identify what year each student is attending is the colour of the silky neck scarf for the girls and the tie for the boys.
It's white for the freshmen, green for the sophomores, light blue for the juniors, red for the seniors and orange for the senior A-Class.
Gabbie’s probably right that I shouldn't have let the girl walk away without confronting her about her rudeness.
I know that my brother would've made that girl pay.
But I just arrived here, I only know a handful of people at BHPA and I don't really wanna make waves.
At least not by arguing with girls I don't even know in the school hallways.
I wanna earn my diploma, be a cheerleader and maybe get a nice boyfriend.
And who knows, maybe the latter won't be too hard a task, I think remembering Pryce and Reece's kisses and unable to help myself from smiling.
Gabbie notices straight away and looks at me a little perplexed:
“Does being called a slut make you smile?”
I don't wanna sound like a hopeless loser by admitting that I’m crushing on two of the varsity football players kinda hard and I really find Chaz interesting and cute, so I just tell her that I’d rather not pick a pointless fight.
4.
Reputation
Abi
THE SMILE DIES ON MY lips when I turn around and spot the boys that have been a huge part of my thoughts since Saturday: Reece, Pryce and Chaz are standing shoulder to shoulder to each other and they look extremely serious.
Reece actually has a murderous light in his dark blue eyes and when he speaks, his voice is low and menacing:
“Abi, we need to talk. Alone.”
He shoots Gabbie an unwelcoming look, not that the way he’s looking at me is any friendlier.
My new friend becomes protective of me, not for the first time.
“Do you even know these three?”
Right, she didn't see me leave the party or the tryouts yesterday with them and I haven't told anyone about the kisses.
&
nbsp; I nod, reassuring her:
“Yeah, we met at registration and then hung out at the party. Pryce's my neighbour.”
Gabbie doesn't seem convinced:
“Look, Abi, I don't buy into the nasty rumours that circulate around school but these three have always had a certain reputation, even before ...”
Chaz interrupts her, folding his toned arms across his chest: he’s slender but the way his muscles stretch the shoulders and arms of our school uniform blazer, isn't lost on me.
“Gabbie, we’ve got no beef with you. Stay out of it please and go to lunch. Abi? We’re waiting.”
I nod to Gabbie and tell her to save me a seat at our table.
I take a step towards the guys and Reece grabs my wrist in a vice like grip, literally dragging me down a corridor in the old wing that’s being refurbished into a new sets of conference rooms and study rooms.
Pryce opens one of the many unmarked doors and I’m unceremoniously ushered into a large room with a boardroom style table surrounded by plush chairs.
Chaz slams the door closed and stands with his back to it, effectively obstructing the only way out of the room.
For a moment that seems to stretch forever, no one speaks: we’re all looking at each other and I don't understand why the boys look pissed.
“Do you have anything to say, Abi?”
I don't know Reece that well but he sounds really angry and I honestly don't understand why that anger seems to be directed towards me.
“No ... I mean, yes ... What?”
I’m babbling, confused and I look at Pryce, trying to figure out what’s wrong but his silver eyes have taken on a dull shade of grey and he looks as angry as Reece.
Chaz is serious and unreadable, standing by the door like an unmovable obstacle.
Reece comes slightly closer: the dark grey blazer looks perfectly tailored to his strong physique.
He looks like he should be on the cover of a fashion magazine, you know, the ones where they have articles featuring bad boys we crush on. The nuns obviously forbade any such reading materials but there were several magazines smuggled in after the holidays or any break when the other girls would get to go back to the outside world and Reece looks worthy of any of those covers.
He notices my appraising look but his features stay stony as if he were waiting for me to say something.
I stand my ground and wait for his move: I’m starting to feel nervous now.
Without a word, Reece slams a bunch of folded pieces of paper on the table: they look like they’ve been torn from note pads.
I still don't understand and I tell him, so he gingerly starts unfolding the note at the top of the pile with a little smirk on his face but that somehow makes him look even more bitter.
“These notes were on their way to you, they were being passed around ...”
“To me? How come you have them?”
His gaze hardens.
“That isn't the point. Read them, Abi. You’ll find them interesting.”
Curiosity gets the best of me and I take the note he’s offering:
‘Abi is a slut’
“What the heck?”
Reece opens another one:
‘She's fucking the A-Team, she's said so.’
The notes are all the same: they somehow imply that I’m sleeping with Reece, Pryce, and Chaz.
“I ... the A-Team? But that was my brother’s friends ...”
Chaz intervenes.
“We haven't called ourselves that but we’re in the A-Class, we’re football players, and by total chance, all our last names begin with an A. So after your brother and his friends graduated ...”
“You took over their ‘reign’ over the school’s social system?”
Pryce explains that everyone started calling them the A-Team.
“We really never bothered to correct people.”
I shrug.
“Ok, but what does that have to do with me and why are people calling me a slut? I don't understand ...”
Reece takes another step towards me, his jaw ticking.
“Because you told everybody that you slept with us three after the party on Saturday, that's why!”
His accusing tone rubs me the wrong way and I snap:
“I didn't say anything to anyone! And certainly not that I slept with you three!”
Reece snickers in my face, his minty breath reminding me of that brief kiss, of the softness of his lips, of his arms around me.
My body's reaction to his closeness is unexpected, there's this ache spreading everywhere, especially on my lower belly but Reece’s next words bring me straight back to reality.
“How do you explain this, then?”
He shows me a Facebook page on his phone: it’s called A-Bitch.
There's no profile picture but the posts from whoever hides under that profile all feature me in some kind of situation with the guys.
There's me and Pryce carrying Chaz around when he was drunk, me exiting the bathroom after the earthquake, hand in hand with Reece. Me climbing in his or Pryce’s car on multiple occasions.
All the captions are written in the first person.
The worst one is the one in Pryce's convertible the night of the party: I had my eyes closed, my head slumped down sleepily.
The caption said ‘fucking the A-Team is exhausting. I need my beauty sleep.’
“Reece, I swear, this isn't my profile. Look ...”
I take out my phone and show him my own Facebook where I actually have maybe thirty friends. And most of ‘em were added after I started school.
Chaz chimes in.
“So what? You made up another profile but it's clear that's you.”
I huff in frustration: why do they think I claimed that I slept with all three of them?
I ask them that and Pryce is the one who answers my question but the disappointment in his voice is so blatant that I feel tears coming on hot and fast.
“Because you're new and you wanna be popular. And you know that the A-Team has a certain reputation.”
“That’s crazy ... I’d never ...”
Reece takes another step towards me, trapping me against the table and his body, pressing his front against mine.
And for a second, his body heat, his sexy scent, his soft voice, are so overwhelming that I want him to kiss me again. I want that so much that I hate myself for it, especially when I hear his next words.
“You heard that we like sharing girls. You heard that if a girl is seen out with us, regardless of what really happens, she climbs up the social ranks at BHPA. And you thought that by saying that you fucked us, you could get your pick of dates. Maybe even QB1? I saw the way he was eye fucking you this morning ...”
A tear does escape the control I thought I had on my emotions and it slides down my face but instead of calming him down, seeing me cry seems to make Reece more furious.
He grips my chin between two fingers, forcing me to look into his dark blue eyes that right now are blazing with rage.
“If you think that crying will get you out of this, you're fucking wrong. See, Abi, last year, your little slutty game would've paid off. This year? You're tainted goods. Being the A-Team slut makes you the lowest of the lowest. No one will want you now. Because our reputation has changed, thanks to your rally football player!”
I don't understand what he means.
“What do you mean your reputation has changed?”
Reece is so close, that I see the white flecks in his dark blue eyes and when he presses his body closer to mine, to whisper in my ear, the combination of his warm breath on my ear and neck and the hardness of his muscles against my softness make me whimper in an embarrassing way.
The corner of his upper lip comes up at the realisation of how much he affects me.
“I mean that something happened and people are quite unsure that we're nice guys after all. So after you said that you fucked us, trust me, no one else will touch you. So now the choice you have is very
limited. You can be an outcast, if we decide to tell everyone that you're a liar or you’re kind of stuck with us, sweetheart. You wanted us? You got us! You're cute after all and since all the other girls are too scared to get mixed up with us after last spring, or their daddies won't let them, you’ll definitely serve a purpose. But another word about me or one of my brothers, another rumour that hurts us and I’ll destroy your life and your reputation for good. Because the one thing worse than being our fuck toy is being our discarded fuck toy!”
He lets go of me as abruptly as he’d come close: I’m confused, upset, shaken and embarrassed by my body's reaction to him.
He wasn't being nice, he was accusing me and threatening me and I shouldn't grieve the loss of his warmth, I shouldn't feel this aching longing for him.
I heard the other girls at my boarding school, talking about how only thinking about the stuff my body wants right now, grants you a place in hell.
Reece has already left the room and Pryce gives me one long, disappointed look before following his friend.
Chaz on the other hand comes closer and offers me a tissue, but if I thought that he was doing it out of kindness, I guess I was totally wrong.
“Don’t even think about spreading around that we made you cry, Abi. You heard Reece: another nasty rumour about us, and you’ll be sorry.”
His voice is hard and angry: then why are his eyes so sad?
GABBIE FINDS ME AT the end of the football field after practice: I went through the motions and thankfully no teachers called on me today and cheer practice was mostly Mrs Stubbs checking the fitting of our uniforms.
Reece texted me ordering me to wait for them here: today they have conditioning, so they're training in the gym.
“Hey girl ...”
I know from the look in her eyes that she saw the Facebook posts that angered the A-Team.
I’m sitting on the grass, hugging my knees with my arms and the softness in her voice is the last straw: I burst into tears, shaking uncontrollably.
She sinks down to the ground, surrounding my shoulders with her arm: her luscious dark brown hair smells of jasmine.
“Abi, you need to learn that people at this school are attention seeking bitches. Every single one of them. Posting about you sleeping with the A-Team will make a lot of people jealous: girls and boys alike. Because you're pretty and I know for a fact that half the football team asked Mrs.mStubbs and Coach Benson to have you as their rally girl. I guess QB1 got first pick.”
Beverly Hills Prep Academy The Complete Boxset : A Light Bully Romance Page 35
