Bitter: A Dark High School Bully Romance (Wicked Brotherhood Book 1)

by Eden Beck

  Don’t mind any of that.

  I grit my teeth but don’t answer. Stay away from Olive? I don’t even want to be near Olive! I’ve been trying to stay away from Olive! I glance down at my hand as I walk up the steps toward my own dorm to read the numbers carefully inked there.

  I’m done listening to them. I’ve tried to stay out of their way, but they keep dogging my every step, criticizing my every move. I saved their asses in that game, and all Heath wants to do is save face so no one knows he’s addicted to ADHD meds.

  I storm into my room and slam the door behind me. It’s empty, as fucking usual nowadays. I tug my oversized jacket off and throw it down onto the floor. The stiff fabric makes a very unsatisfying whumpf as it pools at my feet.

  I find myself pacing, the events of today turning over and over in my mind until it’s such a fucking mess that I don’t even recognize myself when I catch sight of my reflection in the window.

  Normal.

  This was all supposed to be back to normal.

  But this is anything but. I keep trying to do things right, to play the part and stay out of trouble, but I keep getting in my own goddamned away.

  Now that I’m here in the quiet of my own room, the full weight of today bears down on me until I feel like I am suffocating.

  Beck kissed me.

  No, Beck kissed Alex, the boy he’s been bullying for the last semester.

  I feel sick to my stomach. No good is going to come from that, that much is certain.

  Don’t you tell anyone about this.

  I laugh out loud, a hollow sound in this empty room. Who would I tell? I’m alone here, in this, thanks to him. Thanks to Heath. Thanks to Jasper.

  Jasper.

  I look down at my clenched fists as I try to regulate my breathing, then try to flex my fingers, try to relax. I see Olive’s number written there again.

  “Stay away from Olive, huh?” I mutter to myself as I grab my phone off the charger on my desk. I’m done doing what they fucking tell me. I’m going to get harassed one way or the other, right? Jasper deserves to have his whole month ruined. His whole life, actually. All three of them do.

  I don’t hold the same power they do, but I do hold one thing.

  And in the end, it’s the only thing that matters.

  It seems no matter what I do, I’m going to get myself killed … so it might as well be by my own hand.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  I have a date to the dance.

  Jasper doesn’t.

  The news of Olive and Jasper’s breakup travels like wildfire through Bleakwood. They might not have been officially together, but from the scowl that darkens Jasper’s face for the next week leading up to the dance, you never would have guessed it.

  No one knows why. No one knows it’s because she’s agreed to go with me, instead.

  Because if they did, I’m sure I wouldn’t be here at Bleakwood to see it happen.

  Jasper would make sure of that.

  So, for now it’s a secret, but it won’t be able to stay that way for long, not at the very least when we show up at the dance together.

  Holy shit fuck, what a mess I have made.

  The night before the dance, it’s impossible for me to sleep. The dean—and not just Dean Robin—has been sending me notes in all my classes to remind me to make sure to get my medical records to him as soon as possible. So far I’ve avoided being called to his office directly, but I’m sure it won’t be much longer.

  On top of all that, Olive’s enthusiasm to have the chance to ‘make things right’ after that night just eats me alive with guilt. Not enough gilt to override the sick satisfaction I get when I imagine the look on Jasper’s face when he sees us arrive together.

  Rafael interrupts my worrying when he stumbles in around one in the morning, so tired he might as well be drunk, and almost falls over in his attempt to get through the doorway.

  Things have been tense between us to put it mildly. My lacrosse hero status was enough that his precious reputation wouldn’t be hurt if he was seen with me again, but I’ve been reluctant to forgive him.

  He pauses in the doorway. The light from the hallway spills through into the dark room, illuminating his face as he looks over at my bed. I lie still so he won’t know I’m awake.

  He looks tired. There are dark purple circles and bags beneath his eyes. His hair is ruffled, lacking its usual style. He’s been working on dance preparations like his life depends on it.

  Rafael heaves a sigh, closes the door, and trips so badly on his way to the bed that he almost smashes his face against his headboard. I can’t suppress a snort.

  “Oh, look who’s awake,” he says, but his voice lacks its usual bite.

  “Yeah,” I say, sitting up since there’s no more point in pretending. “You okay?”

  “Fine.” He sits down on his bed and starts pulling off his shoes. Silence grows between us in the darkness, potent and awkward. We haven’t spoken in almost a month. Really spoken, anyway.

  “So … big day tomorrow, yeah?”

  He turns on the lamp on his nightstand, filling the room with dim yellow light. Even his clothes look rumpled and unkempt.

  “You don’t have to do this, Alex.”

  “Do what?”

  “Small talk.” He continues tugging his shoes off his feet.

  I look down at my blankets, burying my hands in them. “Well. Okay. How does big talk sound, then?”

  “Big talk?” He chuckles bitterly. “That’s what you’re all about nowadays, isn’t it?”

  I sigh. “Don’t do this.”

  “Do what?” he snaps.

  “Be an asshole,” I snap back. “You’re the one who didn’t want to be seen with me, remember?”

  “You didn’t even let me explain,” Rafael hisses. “You just got all pissy and left and avoided me.”

  “Explain now, then!”

  “Fine! I’m gay, Alex!”

  “Yeah, we’ve been over this.”

  He rolls his eyes and tosses his shoes across the room, toward his dresser. “While you’ve been dealing with The Brotherhood, I’ve been dealing with other shit. Other guys cornering me. In the bathrooms, in the hallways. In classrooms. Threatening to … do things.”

  “Hurt you?” I ask quietly.

  He glances at me. “Among other things.”

  I remember the comment made on the lacrosse field that day, the comment that sparked all this. Or, I thought sparked all this. Turns out that wasn’t the first straw, but the last one.

  I purse my lips into a line. I don’t want to think about what he means.

  “A lot of it was already because I’m gay, but I’ve been getting it worse because I’m associated with The Brotherhood’s marked bitch. Everyone’s been taking it on themselves to … put me in my place, I guess.”

  I look down at my hands, spreading them apart. The smeared ink of Olive’s number has long since rubbed off my palm.

  Rafael pushes his hands into his face for a moment before lowering them and looking directly at me.

  “The more your reputation dips, the worse things get for me. You’re protected by The Brotherhood. No one but those boys is allowed to touch you. I don’t have that luxury; I can get beaten to a pulp by any Tom, Dick, or Harry that feels like letting out their feelings on the gay kid. And I don’t know if you’ve noticed, Alex,” he adds dryly, “but there’s only three of The Brotherhood, and quite a lot of the rest of the student body. You’re good at math. You figure it out.”

  He laughs, but it doesn’t sound happy.

  I shift uncomfortably, but I’m not sure if he’s done, so I don’t want to say anything.

  “I stop associating with you, and all this stops. Or, well, most of it,” he amends. He scratches one of his shoulders. “I’m still gay, after all. There will always be someone who has a problem with that.”

  “But you’ve been helping me.”

  “Yeah.”

  I still can’t really look at
him. “You just wanted to protect yourself for once. I should have realized that.”

  He shrugs. “I’m sorry if that sounds selfish.”

  I sigh as I think back to when we first met. Right here in this very room, I basically blackmailed him into keeping my secret, to helping me. He’s gotten nothing but shit for it since. I’ve taken him for granted.

  “I’m sorry,” I sigh. “I was just … stung, I guess.”

  He nods. “Understandable. I should’ve phrased it better, or explained all this to you sooner.”

  “Yeah, speaking of … why didn’t you?”

  “How was I supposed to?” he asks bitterly. “You had so much going on, anyway. Seems like every day you get yourself in some new sort of shit.”

  “Yeah. I guess.”

  It’s quiet again for a while, but the air feels less tense. After a while, he sighs.

  “I’ve got a date to the dance.”

  “You do?” I ask enthusiastically, snapping my gaze to him. “Who—”

  “Don’t get too excited. It’s a girl. Pity date, I think.”

  “Oh.” I deflate. “I’m sorry.”

  “She’s okay. She didn’t get her own date. She’s just trying to save face.”

  I nod, then after a second, I blurt out, “I have a date, too.”

  “Really? Got one of the girls to go with you, even after the whole tiny dick thing?”

  Again, I know I shouldn’t be angry but that still gets my hackles up.

  “Actually, I got Olive to ditch Jasper and come with me instead.”

  I expect Rafael to be angry. To warn me. To yell at me for putting both of us in the line of fire yet again. But the exhaustion must have finally gotten to him because he just throws his head back and laughs such a big belly laugh that it’s contagious.

  “How?” he asks once he’s once again able to form words.

  “Uh—well—remember the lacrosse game?”

  “Uh-huh, I remember.” He’s wheezing.

  I tell him the whole story … minus Heath being all strung out on Adderall. I just say he didn’t show up. I don’t know why I feel so compelled to keep his secret after everything, but I still do.

  It feels so, so good to talk to Rafael again, to see his gleeful face as I spill the drama I’ve been dealing with. I feel like I only now realize just how much I’ve been missing him.

  “So, after that, I came up here, called Olive, and asked her to the dance,” I tell Rafael, finishing up the story. “She said she’d tell Jasper she was going with someone else.”

  “I should have guessed,” Rafael gasps. “No offence, Alex, but really I don’t see what that girl sees in you.”

  I grin. “Apparently she’s just really into guys who really aren’t into her.”

  “Phew. Tell me about it.” He’s still laughing. Tears roll down his face. “I’ve missed you, Alex. I don’t know how anyone could accuse you of having a tiny dick when you have that much big dick energy.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Even though I know taking Olive to the dance is still probably the most stupid, reckless decision I’ve ever made—even above sneaking into Bleakwood in the first place—somehow telling Rafael about it makes it seem a little less, well, deadly.

  Jasper might be the most possessive person in the world, but it’s still only a dance.

  Or at least that’s what I keep telling myself.

  Olive is understanding of the fact that I don’t own a fancy car—or any car, for that matter—to pick her up in, so she gets her own transportation to Bleakwood. I meet her out front in a suit Rafael rented for from the village since he said he wouldn’t be caught dead having lent me something less than perfect.

  His choice must be good because for the first time I don’t feel underdressed next to Olive, who’s wearing a knee-length cocktail dress outside in the snow.

  “Come inside,” I say, as soon as she steps out of the vehicle. “Holy shit, you must be freezing!”

  I know I am.

  I grab her hand and start tugging her towards the door, thinking it’s the fastest way to get inside before too many people spot us together. I don’t want to end up dead before the dance even starts.

  She laughs. “Beauty is pain.” She allows me to drag her across the courtyard.

  “You must be in a lot of pain, then,” I say, not thinking totally about what I’m saying. She blushes. Oh, shit. I’m flirting again.

  My guilt flares up again, but I have to stuff it down. It’s too late for that.

  It was too late the moment I called Olive and asked her to dump Jasper and take me as her date tonight instead.

  I lead Olive into the gymnasium where the dance is set up. I haven’t even been inside yet; Rafael’s been saying it looks completely different. At my old high school, before Bleakwood, we’d sometimes have dances, and we’d decorate with paper streamers and balloons from the dollar store. If we got fancy, we might even get a punch bowl.

  Somehow, I’m betting the Bleakwood winter ball is in a whole other league.

  As we walk, I start trying to formulate a plan as to how I’m going to break the news to Olive after the dance that I’m really not interested. Really not interested. Like, she needs to give it up already not interested.

  I feel so bad for roping her into my feud with The Brotherhood, especially since she genuinely thinks I’m a guy. What am I supposed to do? Tell her I’m gay? Rafael said that wouldn’t work, that I don’t want to be the gay kid. Plus, it might hurt his chances of finding a boyfriend if rumors of us being a couple start up again.

  Maybe I could tell her that Jasper will beat me to a pulp if I try to see her anymore? That’s not a complete lie. I already know he’s going to be pissed when I walk into the dance with his girl.

  Not his girl. The girl he likes. Olive. She’s a fucking human, I remind myself, but that just makes me feel worse. I’m jerking this poor girl around for my own gain.

  In that way, I’m no better than the rest of them. No better than Jasper. Maybe, in this, I’m even worse.

  “Have you seen it yet?” she asks suddenly, interrupting the guilty merry-go-round of my thoughts.

  “Seen what?” I ask stupidly. I try to push the thoughts out of my mind and concentrate on what she’s been saying.

  She laughs. “The dance. The decorations?”

  “Oh—no, I haven’t.”

  “Isn’t your friend on the board?”

  “Uh, yeah, he is,” I reply, eyeing her. How does she know that? Does everyone just know everything around here? “But he refuses to tell me anything.”

  “Ah, I like a man of mystery. Maybe you should introduce me to your friend.”

  I laugh. “I think you’ve already met him. And trust me, you’re not his type.”

  Olive laughs again, snaking her arm around mine and pushing close. I try not to jerk away from her touch. Make this a good time for her, I think firmly. At least for tonight.

  Or, more like at least until Jasper finds us on the dance floor. I can’t guarantee her anything after that.

  We reach the doors to the gymnasium, which stand open. The room beyond is pretty dark, so it’s hard to see just what’s going on in there, but I hear a heavy beat banging its way through the walls. The outside is decorated with elaborate flowers and ribbons. Two adult men—chaperones or bodyguards, I’m guessing—flank the doors.

  “Name?” one of the men asks as we approach.

  “Alex Trevellian,” I say. “And Olive …” I look over at her.

  “Olive von Buhler.” She smiles at me.

  For all the talk of Mono and the hounding for my medical records, no one seems to care about that now. I feel a small rush of relief up until the other man steps into the darkened room, and I’m shocked to see him slip past a black curtain that’s practically invisible.

  But he doesn’t go fetch the nurse, or the dean of either school to tell me I can’t get in without my records. Instead, the music quiets and I hear a voice amplified by a mic
rophone announcing to the room, “Alex Trevellian and Olive von Buhler.”

  I feel the color drain from my face. What the hell is that for?

  I knew I’d have to face Jasper with Olive eventually, but I didn’t think it’d be like this. I find myself utterly unprepared.

  Olive, however, isn’t fazed in the least. She starts walking, and I have no choice but to follow behind. The man holds the black curtain back for us.

  “Ah,” Olive says as we step into the completely unrecognizable gymnasium. “They went for a more casual theme this year. Interesting.”

  Casual? I look around in astonishment at the giant Christmas tree in the center of the room, looking like a disco ball as the light glances off the surface completely covered in what looks like liquid gold. Its peak reaches almost to the high ceiling. The bleachers are nowhere to be seen; instead, several round ones covered in thick white tablecloths surround the room, leaving enough room around the tree for a dance floor. Even the walls look different. Are they a different color? Did they repaint them?

  From the amount of time Rafael has spent on this event, I wouldn’t be surprised if that’s what he was up doing all night himself.

  Holly and mistletoe are everywhere, as are some other things I’m sure are other countries’ Christmas traditions. There are some Hanukkah decorations as well; a huge menorah with actual lit candles stands on a table at one end of the hall.

  It looks amazing. It looks expensive. But my attention is snatched away by the boy standing up at his table and glaring my way.

  Jasper.

  He’s already making his way toward us.

  “Hey, let’s go this way,” I say quickly to Olive. “Let’s get some—uh—” I tug her toward what appears to be the food table, around the side of the huge tree where we disappear from Jasper’s view. Luckily we discover a chocolate fountain to distract ourselves with and a lot of small, beautiful dishes that look more like art than food.

  “Oh, look!” Olive says. She points to a dish and says something in a language I don’t understand, but I assume she wants it, so I pick up two of them and wind us through the growing crowd of pressing bodies to a table far away from The Brotherhood’s. I didn’t see Heath, but Beck and Becky are out on the dance floor, grinding to the club beat that’s pumping through the room.