Hateful Lies: A dark high school bully romance (Stonehaven Academy Book 1)

by Nora Cobb

  I want to laugh or cry but can’t make up my mind, so I do neither. “I’m tired of being treated this way. I do certain things because I have to. Maybe not now. But I’m stuck in survival mode, and I rely on myself first and not others. I had respect at my old school, but here? I’d have to be at Stonehaven for a hundred years before I get that respect again.”

  Charlotte scowls at the cash in my hand. “I’m not the jerk that Dad is, but I do agree with him. If someone is treating you badly, then they’re disrespecting me. Who’s not treating you right? Is it those boys?”

  For a moment, Charlotte sounds like my mother when I tell her I’m being teased at the nice school for not having a dad. “Yes,” I nod.

  “We’re going to have a talk with them,” she replies

  I smile. “I’m curious to see what you’re going to do.”

  “Watch and learn.” She grabs a perfume bottle from her stash and spritzes some behind her ears. “This is how a rich girl whips ass.” She smiles at the concealer under my eye. I didn’t notice while she was doing it, but Charlotte applied a smoky shadow to both of my eyes.

  “Use what you have, Astrid. It’s easier. And you look amazing.”

  We sneak out of the dorm, leaving Wren to find her own way to the dining hall. We step inside the hall and people pause, and some turn all the way around to look. I’m about to step forward, but Charlotte catches my wrist for a second and then lets it go. I read her signal, and we pause long enough to give everyone a good look.

  As we walk side by side through the dining hall, the gossip flows behind us like a tide spreading over the sand. Charlotte stops at the boys’ table. Bryce can’t conceal his shock at seeing me dolled up with makeup. I glance over at Wyatt, and he’s openly staring. I stand a little taller and then I watch and learn.

  Charlotte points a dainty finger. “Justin, I need to talk to you.”

  That’s unexpected. Bryce shoots a look at Justin as if he should explain why he was chosen. Charlotte smiles prettily and does this thing with her neck, tilting her head back and forth like she’s thinking.

  “Justin, you’re keeping two ladies waiting,” she said.

  Pierce snorts out a laugh. “Two ladies?”

  Charlotte’s smile stiffens, and she glares at him. “I wasn’t speaking to you, Vanderbilt. Nor do I want to.”

  Pierce narrows his eyes on her and then on me. He stares daggers at his dinner and stabs a red potato with his fork.

  Charlotte smiles at Justin, giving him a mental push. He puts down his fork and rises from his seat. She walks back toward the main door and looks down her nose at every person as she saunters away. I can’t even try to do that, so I gaze at the ceiling. I’m almost out the door when I glance over at Roni and Terri at our table. She mouths, “WTF?” and I can’t hide my smile.

  Charlotte leads the way toward the low building that’s the faculty lounge. She doesn’t hesitate and walks in as if she’s on the faculty and has the right to be in there. We walk through a second set of glass doors and then immediately turn right through another glass door. Charlotte hits the light switch on the wall, and I catch my breath. The entire room is filled with canvases hanging on the walls. The scent of linseed oil surrounds my nose as my eyes take in the vibrant colors on the canvases. I walk up to one canvas that must be six feet tall and stare at the detail on the trunk of a tree. The bark looks real, with crevices of dark and light. I recognize the oak tree; it’s the one by the main gates into the school. I reach out, but stop myself from touching the luminous paint. Who the fuck painted this?

  “Brilliant, aren’t they?” Charlotte steps beside me. “Justin is a talented artist, but hardly anyone knows he paints, so he comes off as a moody turd.”

  Justin stands behind us, watching our reactions to his work. I stare at him, and there’s nothing I can think of to say.

  Charlotte grabs my arm and pulls me toward another canvas. She beams as I recognize her image looking down on us. She’s posed on a chair, covered with a satin fabric that imitates a ballgown. Her body is covered except for her feet and arms. Her long blonde hair floats down along the curves in the drapery.

  “Holy fuck,” I gasp. I spin around. “Did you paint that?”

  Justin colors and doesn’t take praise easily, which is a surprise. He stammers a little and then mutters. He’s not the same guy who's been tormenting me since my first week here.

  “The seniors have a show, and he painted all of these.” Charlotte moves gracefully toward Justin. “Justin, Astrid is my newest best friend. We’ve realized that we have a lot in common. She told me that you’re being an ass. Why?”

  “What do you mean why?” he stammers. He didn’t think I would tell my version of what happened in Wyatt’s bathroom.

  The smile slides off her face instantly. “It’s a very clear question, and I expect an answer.”

  Justin goes on the defensive. “You’re not dating Bryce anymore.”

  “That means nothing,” Charlotte explains, “I don’t have to date him to marry him. You know that. So, why are you picking on my friend?”

  “No reason,” he mutters miserably, “and you know that.”

  “You’re being Bryce’s tool,” she replies, “You’re letting him push you around again. Did he insult your drawings? He likes to do that. He can’t draw, but he’ll critique everything you do until you feel talentless.”

  Justin’s face starts to flush. He doesn’t like talking about Bryce, much less being thought of as his lackey. He stares at Charlotte in the same way he sometimes stares at me. “He doesn’t control me,” he replies harshly.

  “So answer me. Why?” she asks again. “Why are you in such a foul mood all the time now? You didn’t always act like this.”

  Justin looks down at his hands. “I’m not going to art school.”

  “Why?” I demand, looking at a portrait of one of the security guards. The man has an expressive face, and his eyes stare through you. But it’s only evident in Justin’s painting. “You’re too good not to go,” I tell him. “I mean, I used to go to the museum when I was a kid, and that stuff was nothing compared to yours.”

  Justin smiles weakly when he hears my praise. I’m a bit surprised that he’s not used to it..

  “Thanks,” he says, “But I haven’t been accepted to any decent art schools yet.”

  I shrug my shoulders and try to be a little helpful. “Maybe you should intern with someone instead.”

  “I have to go to college,” Justin turns away, and his tone is irate. “It’s nonnegotiable. My father’s connections have found a place for me at his alma mater, but I don’t want to go to that school. They don’t even have an art program.”

  Charlotte glances at me, and I back off. She speaks to Justin again. “So the problem isn’t Astrid. It’s personal.”

  He sighs. “You could say that.”

  “So, maybe you could lay off her,” she replies, “I mean, you don’t want people thinking Bryce is in charge.”

  Looking over his shoulder, Justin’s face hardens, and I actually feel a bit threatened by his dark look. He gazes at me, and that expression turns into a wicked smile. He gets off on praise, but his ego has taken a thrashing. For him, the damage is starting to show.

  “You both have issues, so maybe you could take it easy on one another?” Charlotte suggests.

  Justin faces us, and his expression returns to being placid. “I will if Astrid poses for me.”

  My hands rest on my hips. “Oh, there’s the catch. Naked, I suppose.”

  Justin laughs. “The school won’t allow it. And it will be during class.”

  I stare at Charlotte. “Is he shitting me?”

  “He shits you not. The prude police demand it.” She drapes her arm over Justin’s shoulder. “You know how artists are. They drink and smoke and do debauched things as they suffer for their art.”

  I nod but decide not to shake on it. It’s too soon to touch him again. “Okay. I’ll do it if you lay off.”<
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  “One down, three to go,” says Charlotte.

  Chapter 35

  Wyatt

  It’s not fair that I can’t stop thinking about her. And I don’t want to. Not after what they did together. I sit with Bryce, Pierce, and Justin at the dining hall, but I have to. I have to stay in the loop. If I cut them off, I’ll screw my family. My feelings and pride have to come second to my family’s survival.

  Now that Bryce knows that I work on the weekends, I have larger concerns than crushing on someone, but I can’t stop thinking about Astrid. They had to have tricked her, but it pains me that she did that with them. I have to focus, or I’m going to get thrashed in the ring tonight.

  I keep wrapping my hand while I wait for my fight to start. The guy I’m fighting doesn’t bother to train, and I saw him out front, buying beer for some girls. He had product in his hair and was walking around bare-chested, showing off his tattoos. He was bragging how the fight was going to be over in a minute. I scoff. He thinks I’m a pushover because of the mask, but his handle is Chainsaw.

  I look at the piece of thin fabric in my hands and wonder if I should even bother. Bryce knows it’s me. But I’ll wear it anyway.

  Nova steps into the changing room. She glances at me but keeps walking. I want to talk to her and ask her about Astrid, but we don’t really speak. Nothing’s wrong between us. We just don’t get many opportunities. I’m either fighting, or she’s just not around. I look at her, and she’s leaning against a locker, lost in thought. Come to think of it, does she even fight?

  “So, when am I going to see you fight?” I ask her.

  Nova presses her lips together in disgust. “Not here. The rich boys want the girls to fight sexy. They want a bitch-slapping contest and T&A. No girl from Weymouth is going to do that. He’s pissed over what Astrid and Erin pulled.” She looks at me and scoffs. “They actually fought. He’s going to have to recruit some of those Stonehaven girls if he wants to see that action.”

  Nova doesn’t know where I go to school. I laugh it off. “I heard Stonehaven girls don’t fight like that either.”

  “Well, neither do we,” she replies. “You need help with your mask?”

  I shrug and hand it to her. “The last fight, I almost lost when it slipped down over my eyes. I have to be careful I don’t get punched in the face and blinded. I must look like a dork.”

  “No, you don’t.” Nova slips the mask over my eyes and firmly but gently ties it in place. She peeks around my shoulder and checks her handiwork, tugging it down so I can see perfectly. It must look all right because it earns a smile. She sits down beside me while I wait.

  “So, Astrid doesn’t fight anymore?” I try to sound casual.

  “Not since Bryce stole her money,” she replies.

  “What?” I stare at her, and she raises an eyebrow like I should know.

  “Seriously, that shocks you?” Nova shifts her weight so she’s not sitting near me.

  “I didn’t know.” Frowning, I pull off that stupid mask. “You mean he didn’t pay her for that fight?”

  Nova gives me a look that would make Einstein feel stupid. “He lied at her new school and told someone in the main office she stole from him. They searched her room, found all her money, and gave it all to him.” Nova scoffs louder this time. “I won’t sit with him anymore.”

  My shoulders sag as I think about all the shit that’s been happening to Astrid, and I blamed her. “I hate Stonehaven,” I mutter.

  “She can’t afford lies,” replies Nova. “Her mother’s sick. Astrid needs every dollar, and the girls aren’t getting booked.” Nova’s eyes flash as she kicks one of the lockers, and the metal vibrates. “People don’t know that I fight. They think I’m decoration. Derick used to be my cousin. Now, I’m his.”

  Fuck. Astrid had money from her fight and her bets, and now it’s gone. She had to have earned a couple of thousand. She can’t afford to lose it. I couldn’t afford it, not now. My body tenses up as my teeth clench. I hold out my hand, and I’m shaking with rage. I watch my hand move on its own, as if it wants to grab someone and shake the shit out of them.

  “Are you okay?” Nova looks worried as she edges farther away.

  I put my hand down and grab my mask, tying it on myself. “I don’t like hearing that shit.”

  Nova nods. “I feel sorry for your opponent tonight.”

  She shouldn’t feel sorry for him. He’s not the one I want. I glance up at the catwalk, where Bryce is perched with Justin and Pierce. They speak to me at school but ignore me here. Bryce spots me walking along the wall and makes eye contact. He looks smug, sitting on his white couch with some girl pawing him. Some girl he won’t give two shits about after he’s done with her.

  He doesn’t give a shit about anyone, but he gives a shit about his money. The boy has more money than the school, but if he loses a dollar… he’ll flip out like he’s lost a million.

  Smirking, I shake my head. I may not lose Bryce a million tonight, but it’s going to hurt like I did.

  I can beat this guy Chainsaw who’s eyeing me like I’m a waste of his talents. He can lift more than me, but he has no form. One well-timed punch, and he’ll go down. Derick does his spiel before I jump into the ring. Chainsaw and I start nice and easy with a few punches back and forth. I let him get a few in, and then I give him a scare. Let him know it’s not that easy. Nova doesn’t know it, but the girls aren’t the only ones expected to give a show.

  “Tear him up.”

  The crowd starts chanting as we pace around the ring, throwing punches and kicks. I’m barely sweating, but this guy looks winded. He shouldn’t have drunk all that beer. I could tear him up and take the purse tonight, but I want to see Bryce’s face when I hit the mat.

  The guy sends me backward with a powerful kick that winds me. It sends me down onto the floor. I could get up, but he’s waiting for me to come back at him. So I don’t stand. I clutch my arm and grimace as if I’m really hurt. The asshole starts whooping and dancing and almost kicks me in the head. I roll away from him and lie on my back, watching Bryce above me, glaring down. He looks as if he wants to jump into the ring and finish me off.

  I return to the changing room to get my gear. When you lose, you don’t stick around. I take my bag out of the locker, not even bothering to change out of my sweaty clothes, but before I can walk out of the room, Bryce steps in front of the door. Backing up, I look past him as if I’m annoyed that he’s in my way. He moves toward me with a look of rage in his eyes. Losing money is the only thing that makes him excited.

  “What the fuck was that, Wyatt?” he hisses.

  I shrug. “Win some, lose some.” When I smirk, his face turns redder.

  “There is no way he should have won.” Bryce steps into my space. “He was staggering drunk. All you had to do was knock him down.”

  I shrug again. “He got lucky.”

  Bryce looks around to make sure that we’re alone. A few people are approaching from the hallway, but he has enough time to whisper. “I told you to win that fight. You threw it on purpose.”

  I lift my finger to his face. “And I’m going to keep on losing fights until you give Astrid back her money.”

  Bryce steps back while reassessing the situation. He didn’t think I would find out. “That does not concern you.”

  “Do you think I’m your employee?” I answer as two of the other fighters enter the room, including Nova. They keep their eyes lowered, guessing why Bryce is here. “Because I’m not,” I continue, not giving a shit who hears. “And I’ll keep losing until you return her money.”

  “Don’t fuck with me, Wyatt.” He’s so angry; he is beyond caring. “You need to be here.”

  “Maybe I wouldn’t have to be here if you weren’t so fucking greedy. You didn’t think I would want a cut.”

  “Don’t do it again.” Bryce glances over at the people in the room. Usually everyone would be talking, but no one is saying a word. “And get that finger out of my face.”


  I flick his nose with my fingertips, and Bryce takes a swing at me. He has muscle, but he doesn’t know how to fight. Bryce was on the wrestling team until he started figuring out creative ways to make money without an effort.

  I have Bryce pinned to the ground as he starts flailing. Nova starts jumping up and down and shouting, which attracts more attention. Soon the room is filled with fighters and staff cheering for me to kick his ass. Bryce should’ve stayed on the catwalk. His face is dangerously red, so I let him go, pushing him off me.

  I stand over him. “I’ll keep throwing fights until you return that money.”

  “You’re out!” he screams, standing up. “Get out of here. You’re not coming back in here again!”