Bully: A High School Bully Romance (The King of Castleton High Book 1)

by Ellie Meadows

  “One day of knowing me and you’ve already reached your Castleton limit?” He looked down at the short girl. “That’s got to be a new record, don’t you think, Tabitha?”

  The girl preened and smiled. “Yeah, Drake. A brand new record. Normally it takes a girl a week to get sick of you.”

  Drake’s expression changed, going shades of dark like it did last night, and Tabitha reacted to it. “No, what I mean is no one could ever get sick of you.” She smiled meekly.

  God, I couldn’t stand girls like that. I would never be a girl like that.

  “A day’s the record,” I slammed my locker closed. “That amazes me. I’d have guess more like… an hour… half an hour. Two freaking minutes with your jerk face was long enough for me to decide.”

  “Get to know me a little better, Square. You’ve never had culture like me before. Fine art. Soul-affirming sonnets. Symphonies to fade away to.” Even though Drake was touching the girl named Tabitha, he was leaning towards me, his eyes intense and willing me to give into his charms.

  “Some say culture is a coping mechanism. I think maybe it’s compensation for some people.” I lifted my hand and waggled just my pinkie finger at Drake. Then, before he could respond, I pushed past the duo. Just get to Mr. Paulson’s class and don’t look back, I thought. It took me two paces to realize I wasn’t sure where I was going, but there was no way in hell I was going to ask Drake for directions, or anyone else.

  I rushed into class as the warning bell shrilled. Drake was sitting near the back—sideways in his seat, legs stretched across the aisle, and feet in the chair of the empty desk next to him. Panicked I searched the room for another place to sit. Any place to sit. I’d sit on the floor if I had to, though Paulson would probably make me move if I did that.

  Nope. The only available desk was next to Drake. Of course it would be. Why were there more kids in class today? I had to force myself to walk down the aisle towards Drake. He didn’t move his legs automatically. He made me ask. “Can you move your legs?”

  Drake looked up at me, golden hair purposefully-tousled and eyes just a little too innocent to be real. “If you’ll say the magic words.”

  Rolling my eyes, I asked again. “Can you move your legs, please?”

  “Not the magic words, square.”

  “Just move your damn legs, Castleton.”

  “Only if you say ‘I will’,” he paused for effect and quirked an eyebrow when I didn’t immediately repeat his words.

  “I will,” I said slowly.

  “Go on,” he continued, and then stopped again.

  “Go on,” I parroted.

  “A date with you,” he finished quickly, a boyish grin making his face almost cute… almost. If I didn’t already loathe him so deeply.

  “A date with anyone but you,” I spit out. “Move your legs.” This time, I didn’t wait. I reached down and forcibly pushed his feet off the chair. As I turned to sit, I realized the girl who’d been hanging all over Drake at my locker was in this class now. Maybe she had been yesterday too, but I didn’t remember seeing her. She was looking daggers at me. That didn’t bother me, but the dampness gathering in her eyes did. It wasn’t my fault that I was the new girl, and Drake’s hopeful conquest. I certainly wasn’t doing a damn thing to encourage him.

  Paulson’s class went exactly like the day before—tons of information that left me with about six back-and-front multi-color inked pages and a snide comment from Drake about my epic geekiness. It wasn’t endearing when he said it, not like when Sasha had called me a nerd.

  ***

  “Another day done,” I breathed out—standing under the same oak tree I’d started the day under. My dad was late; he’d said he’d pick me up again today. The students thinned out quickly—many going to the bus line, others to the student car lot. After a short while, I was one of the only people left waiting. I dug my phone out of my backpack and turned it on. I kept it off all day. I’m sure that’s another thing Drake would give me crap over—respecting the learning environment and not wanting my phone to ring in the middle of English.

  The phone buzzed and the screen lit up. I kept my eyes on the road while I waited for it to fully boot up and register any messages it might have received whilst off. When it buzzed in my hand, I looked back down.

  Mom: Hey, honey. Dad and I have to stay a little later at work today. So sorry! See if maybe you can take the bus? Text us if you can’t find a way home.

  My jaw dropped. First of all, my parents have never prioritized a job over picking me up from school or whatever else social event I was at. Secondly, the buses were all gone so how in the world was I going to get home? Our house was at least six or so miles away. Better start walking. I looked down at my flats. I was definitely going to have blisters by the time I got home.

  I walked over to the crosswalk light and pressed the button.

  Hey, Mom. Just getting this message. Buses have left. I’m just going to walk. I texted Mom while I waited for the light to change and the ‘walk’ sign to illuminate.

  She didn’t respond immediately, which wasn’t unusual. Mom was the worst with her phone. She’d see a text and mean to respond, but get sidetracked. And she lost her charger constantly. Frankly, I was lucky she had enough battery life to text me in the first place. Dad had a work phone, but he only used it for work. Period. How they managed a successful business was beyond me… My parents really did drive me bananas. I wondered how much therapy I’d need in the future.

  When the walk sign finally came on, I walked forward fast. You were lucky to get a minute of cross time in my old town. Here though, there was no timer and it seemed to take its sweet time. I was already across and half a block away when it finally changed back to ‘don’t walk’. Sightseeing turned boring fast as I strolled past increasingly-similar homes with picket fences and black mailboxes, so I fished out my earbuds and plugged them into my phone. I opted for an audiobook this time. And definitely not poetry.

  I was maybe three-fourths of the way home, slowly eating a granola bar from my emergency snack stash, when incessant honking broke through the comfort of the narrator streaming into my ears. I ignored it at first, assuming it was meant for someone else or for some other reason, but it only got louder and closer. Stopping, I pulled out one earbud and turned to face the road—where I found a neon green convertible, top down. Drake Castleton at the wheel, angry blonde pixie in the passenger seat.

  “You must have a terrible metabolism if you needed to run a mile last night and walk ten miles today just to keep up with your baggy sweatshirt winter body.” Drake mocked and pushed down his sunglasses just enough to look at me over the shades. The girl in the passenger seat giggled.

  “Are you stalking me, Castleton? Once again, you’re on the wrong side of town bothering me. Did you not get the message last night? Or today? I don’t want anything to do with you.” I crossed my arms, ignoring the girl in the car who looked a little shocked.

  Before Drake could rebuttal, the pixie cut looked at him. “What does she mean last night?” I could hear the hurt in her voice. It was painful. “Look, Drake. I know the kind of guy you are, but you went after another girl last night? After we…” her voice trailed off and she looked back at me quickly, betrayal evident on her face.

  “Not now, Tabitha.” Drake’s voice was harsh and cutting. Even if the girl was pitiful, I hated him for her.

  “See, Drake. You already have a girl who’s all about you and your ego. Focus on that, and leave me the hell alone.” I shoved my earbud back in and started walking. The convertible did a burn-out, leaving black scars on the road, and roared past me. The girl named Tabitha had her body turned away from Drake, her arms folded against the top of the door frame. I wondered if she was crying. Don’t cry over that asshole. I wanted to tell her that she was way too good for Drake freaking Castleton. That crying over him was a waste of life. But the car was too far away now, and I had a feeling she wouldn’t listen anyway.

  My body had
landed in dead city by the time I reached our block. I was so glad to be so close. It wasn’t until I got to the front stoop that I realized I didn’t have a house key yet. Mom and Dad had promised to make one, several times, but they’d been so busy getting acclimated to the town, and now the new job.

  Hey, mom. Bit of a problem here. I still don’t have a key.

  I waited, not feeling any hope that mom would see the message and respond. She still hadn’t responded to my last message after all. Turning around, I sat on the concrete steps and leaned my back against the door.

  “Hey, Tarryn!” A voice yelled my name loud enough to cut through the audiobook; the story was getting close to the big reveal. I hated being interrupted during a pivotal part of a book.

  I glanced over to find gossipy Meg walking on the sidewalk from her house towards me.

  “Shit,” I mumbled. If Drake was persona numero uno I didn’t want to deal with today, Meg was certainly persona numero dos. As she got closer, I plastered on a smile and pulled out my earbuds. “Hey, Meg. I didn’t see you at school yesterday or today.”

  “Oh, no. I mean you wouldn’t.” She always spoke sort of vaguely and in a way that made it seem like I should already know some random information that I definitely didn’t. I mean… except when she was blatantly gossiping about the town and its people.

  I waited, but she didn’t say anything else, instead plopping down cross-legged on the lawn. “I wouldn’t see you because…” I trailed off, waiting for more information.

  “Oh, I mean, I’m homeschooled. Did I not tell you that?”

  Shaking my head, I tried to keep the smile on my face. “No, I don’t think so.” Probably because you were too busy telling me every sordid detail you knew about every person’s life aside from your own.

  “Just this year. Maybe next year too. I’ve got this autoimmune crap going on and my parents are being stupidly protective.” The way she talked about her parents, I could tell she actually loved how much they obviously cared. “So how is school? Tell me everything!”

  “Um… I don’t really know anyone yet. There’s not much to tell.” I squirmed, knowing that she’d love to hear everything I could tell her.

  “No way. You’ve got to give me something. I’m stuck in that house nearly all day. I’m best friends with my cat and computer.” She leaned forward, her hands out pleading. “There’s got to be something you can give me. I need to live vicariously.” Dramatically, Meg tossed herself backwards onto the grass.

  Just then, as if on freaking cue, Drake Castleton drove by my house in his stupid green convertible. As if I hadn’t seen his face enough today. And he honked. He had the nerve to honk and wave whilst stupidly grinning like he’d done nothing at all to annoy the hell out of me. My mouth fell open of its own volition. And I thought I couldn’t loathe him more than I already do.

  Meg jolted up off the ground and saw him. She saw him, and that was that.

  She wasn’t going to let me rest until I dished on why the ‘King of Castleton High’, as she called him, was blowing his car horn at me.

  My phone pinged, giving me a moment’s reprieve before I knew I’d have to give Meg something or she’d never let me rest.

  Mom: Hey, hon. So sorry. I promise we’ll get you a key. Dad’s on his way there, but I had to run home earlier and now I’ve got to stay late here and finish something.

  Will you be home for dinner?

  Mom: Probably not. Love you!

  Love you too. Glad Dad will be here soon. Neighbor girl is pestering me.

  Mom: Gossipy Meg? Oi. Hang in there.

  When I put down my phone, I steeled myself. And I needed to—Meg had moved closer to me and she was staring at me like I was the only thing in the entire world that mattered.

  6.

  D R A K E

  I almost lost control of the car.

  But I wanted to get as far away from Tarryn as possible. I didn’t care that I peeled half the rubber off my performance tires doing the burn-out. I’d buy new ones.

  That girl got to me. She got right under my damn skin and it itched like the devil. It itched so bad I didn’t even feel like me, as if I was instead smashed into someone else’s body and I couldn’t control the feelings and the emotions of the damn meat suit I was wearing.

  “Yet another new girl, Drake? Do you have any new fucking tricks?” Tabitha was fighting tears. Usually, a chick crying didn’t faze me, not one bit. For some reason though, right now? It was making me feel just a little bit bad. I didn’t say anything and she turned away from me, leaning against the passenger door. Her shoulders shook a little. Shit. I’m not used to caring.

  Maybe because I could still see Tarryn in the rearview mirror… maybe because this stupid girl, with her sharp tongue and her pathetic clothes and her plain Jane face was making me feel something. I wanted her so fucking bad. And it wasn’t because she was the new girl, though in the past that would have been enough to get my predator in action. I wanted her because she didn’t want me. I wanted her because she was fucking different. She didn’t care about my money, my family, or my connections.

  I turned down a side street just to get away from the sight of her.

  “This isn’t the way to my house,” Tabitha said sharply.

  “I don’t fucking care, Tabs. Just let me drive.” I gripped the steering wheel angrily.

  It took twice as long as it should have to make it to Tabitha’s house. I drove in the wrong direction long enough to get myself under control, and then I’d turned around and made my way to her street, which wasn’t far away from where I’d seen Tarryn running the other night.

  “Look, Tabitha,” I started to speak when I pulled to a stop in front of her house. “I’m sorry. Nothing happened with Tarryn. I wouldn’t do that right after—”

  “Save it, Drake. You would absolutely do that right after we were together. I mean, it’s who you are. God,” she laughed, almost hysterically, “I must have seemed so desperate last night. Wanting you to call me. Not wanting to be just another screw. But in the end, that’s what I am, right? That’s what all of us are. So go after the new girl. I don’t care. It’d be some kind of consolation to see a girl resist your stupid ass.” Tabitha grabbed her book bag and got out, slamming the car door so hard that it shook the side mirror.

  There was no point in trying to call her back and be nice and try to make amends. She was right. She meant nothing to me. Even though I’d felt a twinge of something when she’d cried, it wasn’t for her. It was because for the first time fucking ever, I was being rejected… not the other way around. I didn’t like it, not one damn bit. It upset the damn order of things.

  Driving away, I meant to head home. Instead, I found myself driving towards the spot I’d been the other night—looking at Tarryn under the soft glow of street lamps, her body slick with sweat, her breathing gently labored.

  She’d felt sorry for me. Pitied me. I didn’t need her pity. I’d rather have her scorn.

  I drove until I found her house. She was sitting outside with someone else and a pang of jealousy bolted sharply through my stomach, until the other person sat up and I realized it was another girl. Unless that’s why she was rejecting me…

  No. No way was she a lesbian. I mean… no.

  I honked my horn as I was about to pass and I waved like a madman, purposefully grinning and acting like Tarryn was a ‘total bestie’. Even from the road, I could see her jaw drop in surprise.

  ***

  Wednesday.

  Hump day.

  Call me a damn ten-year-old, but that always made me smile.

  For the first time in a while, last night I hadn’t scrolled through my phone looking for a distraction. It wasn’t always sex. Usually sex, but not always. After dropping off Tabitha and pestering Tarryn, I’d gone home and I’d… stayed home. In my room. I’d read a fucking text book for Christ sake.

  It had taken me a full thirty minutes to toss the book off the bed and realize that something was seri
ously wrong with me. Not just the itch under my skin, the pang of guilt at Tabitha’s crying. I didn’t study. I didn’t care about academics. I mean, I passed my classes and when I didn’t, Dad reminded the school that he paid for every floor tile and shingle on the joint.

  Yet I found myself wondering what Tarryn found so fascinating—her with her notebooks and dozen colored pens.

  It had taken another thirty minutes to figure out a plan. A plan she’d hate me for when she eventually found out. But I was going to do it anyway. I got what I wanted. Always. So I decided that since Tarryn didn’t want me, I’d find something… or someone… she did want. And it would be my way into her world.

  I took my sunglasses off and cleaned them on my shirt, squinting up at the sun and avoiding eye contact with passing students—especially the girls who walked slowly, hoping I’d give them the time of day. Eventually, the person I was waiting for arrived.

  “Hey, Drake. You wanted to talk?” Turning, I found Aiden Quinn—a six-foot guy whose sole goal was to get into Harvard and become a world-class lawyer. He aced every subject, walked old ladies across streets, and basically should have ‘saint’ tattooed on his fucking perfect forehead.

  “Yeah, listen. I know you’re saving your ass off for college.” I kept my shades on when I talked. My dad always said, when you could manage it, don’t let a business deal look you in the eyes.

  Aiden nodded.

  “Well, I’ve got a proposition for you. And it’ll mean really good money.” I shrugged, because he’d think the money was good. To me, it was a few nonconsequential Benjamins that wouldn’t get spent on a new watch or something else I already had twenty of at home.

  “I’m listening.” Aiden shoved his hands in his pockets, looking every inch a do-gooder black superman.

  “I want you to flirt with the new girl. Be real friendly. Ask her out after a while.” I smiled, trying to be at my most charming.

  “Why?” He quirked an eyebrow, curiously.

  I shrugged. “Honestly, I think she’s your type. Real book nerd.”