by Nora Cobb
I roll my eyes. “And what about the money?”
His face twists into an ugly mask of hatred as he jabs his finger into my face. “You’re not fucking getting my money.”
Grinder walks in and walks straight over to me. He frowns sadly while shaking his head. I don’t give him a hard time because it’s his job. He pats me on the back as he shows me to the door. But no one helps Bryce off the floor.
Chapter 36
Wyatt
Astrid spends less time in the private gym since she became the darling of the track team. Her photo is posted on the Stonehaven website with her teammates. She sits on a bench by the track, taking a break in the shade. Her lips are pouty, and her legs are long. The girl has no idea how beautiful she is.
And she needs a friend, not another person to judge her.
I check the private studios in case she might be around. Astrid is kicking the freestanding bag with a roundhouse. My eyes stay on her form in admiration. She had definition before, but it’s turned into lean muscle as her leg sweeps gracefully out and her foot makes contact with the bag. Only I would find a woman that could beat my ass sexy.
Astrid stops for a moment to wipe the sweat off her brow and when she looks up, she notices me. Instead of walking away, I walk into the room. I don’t waste time on small talk.
“You didn’t tell me about the money,” I tell her, and she looks stunned. “You should’ve told me.”
Sighing, she sits down on the mat. “I didn’t want to. I thought you would be pissed.”
“I am pissed.” I sit beside her. “You shouldn’t deal with Bryce alone.”
She looks down at her gloves. The school requires protective gear in the gym for sparring. I tap my hand against the blue pleather and smile at the way they look like an accessory and not an object of pain. She bites her lip, watching my hand, but she’s too shy to look at me. I have to change that.
“I heard you lost your last fight,” she says softly, as if I don’t want to be reminded. “And you beat up Bryce.”
I nod. “He deserved it. Did he give back your money?”
Astrid shakes her head. “I want to talk about what happened in your room, but I don’t know how to explain it.”
I shake my head. “I want to talk first. My father died suddenly when I was ten, and my mother knew nothing about the family she had married into. They took advantage of her ignorance. My uncle took over the family funds. But he didn’t have my father’s intelligence, and as a result, we don’t have the money we used to have. Long story short, I have to work. And a lot of people at Stonehaven would look down on it.” I nudge her shoulder with mine. “I don’t like it, but I get why you felt like you had to do it.”
“It’s interesting that you chose this path,” she replies. “Being a fighter.”
“Probably for the same reasons that you did,” I reply
Astrid smiles. “Where else can you earn a thousand in five minutes and get a good workout?”
I laugh. “There are plenty of other places. I’m sorry for not even trying to talk to you.”
Finally, she lifts her eyes. “I’m sorry for not talking to you. A lot of bad stuff might not have happened if I had told you the truth.”
I slip my arm around her shoulders. “Next time, you’ll tell me the truth?”
She nods.
“You still don’t look happy,” I reply.
She tries to smile. “I try to convince myself that I don’t want to be in the Investors Club, but my ego wants to join.”
“I don’t have the pull that Bryce has, but I’ll back you up, Astrid.”
“Thanks.” She smiles. “The Pit has changed a lot, and I don’t know what I can do. But I’ll talk to Grinder. Maybe we can make you another disguise.”
“Sure.” I lean in for a kiss, and Astrid lifts her lips to mine. I can taste the sweat on her lips and feel the heat on her skin. I’m getting hooked, and I know it. My father’s family didn’t approve of my mother, but that’s not a problem for me now that I’m broke. I pull back and look at her pouty lips, and her eyes are hazy as she moans. Astrid reaches up and pulls me back into another kiss. They talked about her at the table. If I had been there, I wouldn’t have wasted her time.
I pull back again. “I want you, but not here.” I smile. “I don’t want to get caught.”
Astrid smile. “You’re such a tease.”
Chapter 37
Astrid
I can’t do both. The wear and tear on my sore body is starting to show. The sun is still in bed when I get up to go train for track. And on the weekends, there’s no point in climbing into bed after returning home from the Pit. I’m only going to have to get up again to run. Sunday mornings, I get a break from training. My muscles are stronger in places I didn’t know I had them, but on Sunday morning, my body has had enough. I stay in bed.
Roni creeps over to the edge of my bed. With concern, she examines my prone body as I watch her.
“What?” I moan.
She steps away. “Nothing. I rarely see you in bed, and the sun is up. Are you okay?”
“I’m just tired.” I yawn and yank the covers over my head.
“You train like a fiend,” Roni replies, “Did you ask about scholarships?”
“Yes.” My voice is muffled from underneath the covers. “I’ve been filling out applications. Dr. Rawlins is helping me.”
“Whoa.” Roni laughs. “Sounds like you’re off the naughty list and on the nice.”
I mumble something incoherent, and I’m not even sure what I said. By the time I wake again, Roni is gone, and every corner of our room is lit with the noontime sun. I’m worn out, but if I do get a scholarship, I’ll have the opportunity Mom was hoping I’d have by coming to Stonehaven. A chance for a better life, away from Weymouth.
A horrible thought widens my eyes, and I stare at the ceiling as I lie there motionless.
I’ve been accused of promiscuous behavior, luring decent boys from good homes down a path of inequity. I’ve been accused of stealing money after a sexual encounter by distracting an innocent boy with my plain white underwear.
But the one thing I actually did do is steal a laptop, and I haven’t been caught yet. I’m wide awake now as I fling the covers off me and sit bolt upright on the edge of my bed. No one squealed about the laptop. Or the Pit, but the fight club is different. Stealing the laptop is a minor offense compared to the Pit. Why didn’t someone tell Rawlins about it?
Maybe because Justin was involved? But he tried to have sex with me, and Rawlins knew about that. He said getting caught stealing was worse than getting caught having sex, but someone told Rawlins I had stolen the money. I should have been kicked out for that. That’s a bigger crime. Isn’t it?
I lock the door to the hallway and push a chair against the bathroom door, just in case. No one is with me, but instinct makes me look around anyway. I needed a place to hide the laptop, and anyone looking for it would’ve checked the obvious places first, so I had to think deviously.
I pull out the bottom desk drawer until it can’t move anymore and take out the few paperback books I borrowed from Roni. There is all sorts of abandoned crap in the basement, and among the crap, I found gold. A piece of heavy particle board, which fits perfectly in the bottom of the drawer. Slip it in, and I have a false bottom. Anyone looking at it closely could tell it’s fake, but if you aren’t looking, it’s imperceptible.
I don’t understand why the boys keep bothering me, following me, pestering me. My ego isn’t so out of control to allow me to believe that my hotness cannot be denied. I don’t believe that Justin or Pierce couldn’t find another girl to torture with crude comments. But as I take the laptop out of its hiding place, it all makes sense. I have something, and they’re keeping an eye on it by keeping an eye on me.
Fortunately, the battery holds a charge because I don’t have a cord. And even better, there’s no password. I’m in the second the screen lights up. I scroll quickly through the folders, look
ing for something interesting.
Nothing leaps out at first until I think a little harder. It’s either a photo or it’s money. My finger hovers over the photo folder, but I click on the spreadsheets instead. Voices pass my door, and I watch the door, uncertain when Roni is coming back. I freeze in place, as if whoever it is can see me through a solid piece of wood.
Taking a breath, I start again, and one by one, I open each spreadsheet folder. I don’t understand most of the stuff I’m looking at. Abbreviations and numbers in row after row. Reading through it makes me feel stupid, but what did I expect? That I would attend Stonehaven and instantly understand finances and crap? It takes work, and then it occurs to me that if I trained my mind the same way that I train my body, I could understand this stuff.
I’m thinking I should transfer the spreadsheets up to the cloud or something, when I finally see something on one of the spreadsheets that I understand. My name. In fact, I recognize several names—Nova. Erin. I click on the tab and another sheet pops up with Mask, Brickhouse, Stockade, even Grinder, but he hasn’t fought in years. I don’t know finance, but I recognize a bookie’s spreadsheet when I see it. The numbers are gambling odds, and Justin must be doing the bookkeeping.
Before I do anything else, I download every spreadsheet into my phone. Maybe the others mean something else, and it would make sense to have more proof, not less. I put everything away, hiding the laptop in the drawer again safely and piling a few more books on top.
I can’t stop thinking about what I found, so I head over to Stonier to do research. On what I don’t know, but the first thing is to learn how to read a spreadsheet. The librarian doesn’t laugh or scoff when I ask her for help. I sit at the table for an hour, reading everything that she gives me. In fact, she takes an interest in showing me more and suggests we review a stock market report.
“I’m glad to help a woman who has an interest in finance,” she smiles and hands me another reference book. “You’re talented at it. I can tell.”
I thank her dumbly before she walks away. I think that’s the first time anyone at Stonehaven has shown me true respect. By the time I’m ready to leave the library, I know the Investors Club is a gambling front for the Pit.
Chapter 38
Astrid
It doesn’t take long to find Justin once I enter the Fine Arts building. I barely know my way around Vogel Hall, but it isn’t hard to find the painting studios. The closer I get, the stronger the smell of paint and oils becomes. I trail my hand along the wall, feeling daubs of uneven paint left behind that didn’t make it onto a canvas.
The individual student studios aren’t pristine like the rest of the campus. Art students are scavengers of old stuff that they somehow convert into unique, coveted, and cool. I walk by several tiny rooms made of plywood-hammered brackets on the floor, creating makeshift stalls within a larger room. I find Justin in the last studio in the corner. His space has the most natural light, with two walls of tall windows. His space is empty except for a few canvases facing the wall.
“Hey, are you working?” I ask, slowly walking into the room.
Justin looks up, a little surprised to see me, but doesn’t look bothered by my intrusion.
“No, I’m about to stretch a canvas.” He looks at me. “You want to pose for a sketch?” My mouth flinches, and he notices with a sulk. “You only have to sit on that stool. I want to do a couple of quick sketches.”
I don’t trust Justin, but I need his help. I nod and sit on a stool by the window. The warmth from the sunlight feels good in the drafty studio. He grabs a sketch pad off a cluttered table and sits opposite me. I want to talk. We have to, but I’m not sure if I can move my mouth.
“Can I talk while you draw?” I ask.
“Not the best idea.” His hand moves across the paper, loosely gripping a piece of charcoal in his fingers. “But I’m sure you came here for another reason than to sit. So, talk.”
“I want you to help me get into the Investors Club as a full member.”
Justin scoffs. “You won’t give up on that. Astrid, you won’t get in. That’s why Bryce paid your fee. So you wouldn’t lose your money.”
I take a deep breath that sounds like exasperation. I box people in a concrete ring, but blackmail is new. “I found the spreadsheets on the laptop for the fight club.”
His hand stills, and then he starts drawing again. “Are you sure that’s what you found?”
“I’m certain of it,” I reply, “I went to the library and asked for help.”
Justin immediately stops drawing and stares at me as if I have one brain cell.
“And I also finished reading the student handbook,” I continue, “It’s very enlightening—especially the pages on gambling and how we’re not supposed to do it. I also looked into how to file a complaint. So if I’m not included in your club, I’ll have to send the spreadsheet to the school board. I believe in preserving Stonehaven’s exemplary standing.”
“You must want it bad,” he states matter-of-factly. “Honestly, Astrid. Bryce is the one who decides. The rest of us could make a recommendation, but the idea was Bryce’s, so he owns it.”
“I don’t get it.” I hop off the stool. “The Pit has been around longer than Bryce. How come he’s in charge? Just because he’s rich?”
“No, because he’s smart and has capital,” Justin explains, “Bryce discovered the Pit…”
I hold up my hand. “He discovered it?”
Justin frowns, then backtracks. “He introduced a more structured way to place bets than what had occurred in the past.”
I put my hand down. “When Grinder was a fighter, people got paid fairly for putting themselves on the line. Sure, things are more organized and less dangerous now, but Bryce has only made it better for the people who don’t fight.”
“And I suppose you want to represent the underdogs,” he smiles sarcastically as he folds his arms.
I shake my head. “I want my money first.”
Justin smiles, picking up his paper and pencil again. “An honest answer. I forgot what it was like to be around honest people.” When I open my mouth to talk, he places his fingers against his lips and resumes sketching. “I want to capture your expression.”
But I’m too anxious to wait. “I want in. But you can’t tell Bryce what I have, or he’ll crush me.”
“Correction,” he glances up, “He’ll crush us. It has to seem like my idea, but I’m not convinced I should help you.”
“Why not?” I snap in frustration. “Do you want the school board to find out?”
He scoffs. “No, I don’t, but you’re overlooking something. My chances of going to the college of my choice are nonexistent. My family expects me to pursue a political path just like my father. They can’t let that hard-earned power disappear.”
I fidget then freeze as a thought hits me. A spreadsheet with some initials is no guarantee. It might ruin me instead, just like the other tasks and my stolen money. What if I get taken down as the scapegoat again?
“How does it look?” I ask.
Justin frowns at the picture in his hands and then holds it up for me to see. I’m stunned. It actually looks like me, and he only used a few lines to render my face. It’s a beautiful drawing, but I look lost.
“Can I keep it?” I whisper
He nods.
“Are you going to help me?” I ask.
Justin stands motionless, staring at the sketch in my hands. Justin isn’t convinced, and with his future careening off the tracks, there’s not a whole lot he cares about except his art.
“What if I pose for you?” I suggest.
He tilts his head, taking an interest.
“But no touching,” I state firmly, “and we have a chaperone.”
He slips the drawing into my hand. “I’ll do my best to help you. I owe you an apology. But first, I want you to let me draw you again.” He picks up his pad again. “I want to capture your expression exactly how you look now.” He tilts his h
ead. “Half wrath and half desperation.”
Chapter 39
Astrid
October is moving quickly to an end as I run the trail. Cross-country lasts until December and then will pick up again in the spring with track. So I figure when I’m not running track, I’ll spend more time at the Pit. Odd. I used to schedule my time around going to the Pit, not the other way around. I stretch my body and gaze across the campus. I can’t imagine running in the snow, but Coach Herring swears we will do it.
My phone chimes, and I pull it out of my jacket pocket. It’s from Wyatt, and I smile when I read it—“You’re in.” I guess I should be happy, but my victory is subdued. Becoming a member is worthless unless we play by my rules, and I intend to play rough.
