The Trouble With Bullies: A High School Bully Romance (A Meadow Creek High Book)

by Ruby Vincent

  “Rachel, you left so fast you didn’t give us a chance to tell you all of the details. Everything is happening quickly, honey. He will be moving in tonight.”

  “Tonight?! Since when do placements happen that fast?”

  “This isn’t through Child Services.” She set the computer down on her other side. “So no red tape.”

  “Is that... legal?”

  She laughed. “In this case, yes. Look, there’s a lot we have to discuss about this, but first I want to know how you feel. You looked upset when you left this morning.”

  I looked away. “I wasn’t upset.”

  “Rachel, baby, I know you. Talk to me.”

  “There’s nothing to talk about.”

  A frustrated sigh escaped her lips. “Rachel, why does everything have to be so—” She stopped, cutting herself off. I listened as she did her breathing routine. Three breaths in, hold, then one breath out. Exactly like Dr. Brown taught her. “Rachel, I hear you saying that you don’t want to talk, but—”

  I snatched up my bag and stood. “I have homework to do.”

  “But, Rach— Wait! I said there was something I needed to tell you. The boy that’s staying is—”

  “It doesn’t matter,” I called back. “It’ll be fine.”

  Her voice faded as I stomped up the staircase and ran into my room. I threw myself down on my bed and pulled out my camera. I couldn’t think about school, Mom, Dad, or new houseguests. It was all too much right now. Instead, I flipped through some of my latest shots.

  I was no professional. Everything I learned about taking pictures I got off blogs and internet videos, but messing around with this birthday gift gave me something to do back when all my friends ditched me and Mom couldn’t look at my pregnant belly without bursting into tears.

  I clicked through a few of Estelle. She was leaning against a bench at the park and laughing at nothing. I was playing with lighting that day and she’s more than happy to model for me. Her profile pictures were exclusively photos I had taken.

  I went through those quickly. I was looking for one shot in particular. I took it the weekend before when Estelle and I went to Meadow Creek Promenade to mourn the end of summer vacation.

  I know it must be coming up—

  My rapid finger-clicking came to a dead stop. Lighting up my screen was Christian Moreau. These were the shots I took the day before from the bleachers. My eyes traced every inch of his face. Pictures like this almost made you believe that there was more to him. A story behind those amber eyes and something hidden in his smirk.

  But then pictures can be deceiving.

  I shook myself and kept scrolling. When I finally found the picture I was looking for, I got up and moved to my computer and photo printer. I smiled at the pic when the printer spat it out. It came out even better than I hoped.

  Estelle and I had been riding the trolley when we saw an elderly couple stand up to get off at a stop. The man went out ahead, but when he reached the stairs he paused, turned back, and took the woman’s hand so they could step off together. I got a snap the second he reached for her.

  “...your room.”

  I looked up from the photo as my mother’s voice came through the door.

  “Make yourself comfortable. You’re welcome to anything in the house; don’t be shy. If you need something, Rachel is right across the hall. Rachel!”

  I jumped. “Yeah, Mom?”

  “Dinner in five minutes, sweetie.”

  “I’ll be down in a sec.” I bent over and snagged a red clothespin out of a jar on my desk. I took the photo and hung it on the clothesline on the wall. I had lines hanging up all over my room with my photos on everyone. It would have been better to put them in frames, but I liked the look of this. It brightened up my bland white and blue room.

  I lingered over the photos above my desk, drinking in the baby’s sweet, smiling face, before I shook myself. I had to go.

  I stripped out of my school clothes and changed into my bunny shorts and a tank top. Dinner wasn’t a formal affair in the Bryant household so there was no reason I shouldn’t be comfortable. My new foster brother would just have to get used to me.

  I poked my head out of my room. There was no one in the hall now. I tiptoed across the hardwood and pressed my ear against the guest room door. I heard shuffling.

  I knocked. “Hey, are you hungry? By the smell of it, Mom is cooking up her famous tortellini soup with Italian sausage. You don’t want to miss that.”

  The shuffling stopped.

  I waited, but they didn’t say anything or open the door.

  “Rachel?” Mom called.

  Giving up, I headed downstairs and burst into the dining room. Dad glanced up from his phone. His eyes popped. “Rachel? What are you wearing?”

  “What?” I looked down at myself. “I wear this all the time.”

  “Not when we have a guest,” he hissed.

  I flapped a hand. “Dad, it’s fine. We’re family now, right? Might as well act like it.”

  He gave me an odd look. “Rachel, did your mother not tell you who was staying with us?”

  “She did. She said it was a kid you got your hands on outside of Child Services. Sounds a bit sketchy, but I won’t rat you to the cops.”

  My father massaged his temples as I took my seat. Mom came in with a bowl while I was getting comfortable.

  She stopped dead. “Rachel, I feel you should get changed.”

  “Why? What’s up with you guys?”

  “We want you to be comfortable.” Mom resumed her walk and placed the soup in the middle of the table. “You’ll be the only one wearing pajamas.”

  Overhead, footsteps sounded on the stairs.

  “Never mind. It’s too late. Listen, Rachel. I tried to tell you this before, but you know the person who is staying with us.”

  “I do?” I leaned forward and snagged the soup, pulling it toward me. “Who is it?”

  “It’s me.”

  I froze—bent over the table with my bunny shorts riding up and putting my cheeks on display.

  No. This can’t be happening.

  Mom clapped. “It’s Christian, baby. Isn’t this wonderful? I didn’t mean for this to be a surprise, but here he is.”

  Slowly, I pulled back and sat in my seat. I didn’t turn around to look. Maybe if I didn’t indulge this nightmare, I would wake up.

  Then my mother said the single most horrible thing she has ever said to me in my life.

  “Christian is staying with us for the rest of the school year.”

  A shadow fell over me and I could feel his presence. My chair creaked as he took hold of it. Christian bent over, put his lips to my ear and whispered,

  “How’s that for a hundred feet, Bryant?”

  Chapter Five

  “Mom, this makes no sense!”

  My mom was bent over the sink with her hands in the sudsy water. She handed me a spoon. “Rachel, when we yell, it’s because we—”

  “Feel like we aren’t being heard,” I finished. “Yeah, well, in this case, it’s only because I’m pissed!”

  “I hear you are feeling angry and—”

  “Ugh!” I slammed the spoon on the counter. “Mom, for once, can we talk without the psychobabble!? Why is Christian staying here?!”

  My mother gave me a look that told me what she thought of my tone. I was past caring about being grounded. Christian Moreau was upstairs moving into our spare bedroom. I needed to understand how that could possibly be happening.

  “Rachel, that psychobabble, as you call it, are proven methods for having more effective conversations.”

  “I don’t want to have an effective conversation; I just want the truth. Why did you tell me we were taking in a foster child?”

  “I never said he was a child,” she countered. “And the rest I didn’t get to say at all because you kept walking away from me. Christian is here because he’s eighteen. He’s aged out of the foster system and Miss Ruth no longer receives help t
o cover his care. She doesn’t care about that. She wants him to live with her until he’s ready to leave for college, but Christian insisted on moving out to ease the financial pressure on her and free up a bed for another child who may need her.”

  I nodded. I was following along so far.

  “Miss Ruth and I still keep in touch and she told me about what they were going through. Your father and I have talked about fostering for so long that this seemed like a sign. Christian won’t be forced to get an apartment, and Miss Ruth would know he was taken care of. This works out for everyone.”

  I gaped at her. “And Christian agreed to this? To living with us?”

  She shook her head. “Actually, he said no. He refused every time it was brought up so there was no reason to tell you about it. It wasn’t until this morning that he changed his mind. Got up and told Miss Ruth that he would be happy to stay with us and if the offer was still good, he could move in right away.” Margaret lifted her hand and offered me a dripping bowl. “That’s the truth, honey. Do you feel better?”

  There were a lot of words to describe how I felt and better wasn’t one of them. I had no doubt in my mind that Christian did a sudden one-eighty because of what happened at the party. I had been torturing myself all night and day thinking about what he was going to do to get back at me, and this was ten times worse than anything I could have imagined.

  This was my space. This was the only place where I was safe from the stares, whispers, sneers, and cruel jokes. This was the one place where Christian Moreau couldn’t get to me... until now.

  “I think this could be good for you, Rachel.”

  I blinked at her. “Why would you think that?”

  “Because I never understood why you and Christian stopped being friends. You were thick as thieves when you were kids. Now is a chance for you to put all of that behind you and work on getting that friendship back. Remember, Rachel. Open, honest, and effective communication.”

  I couldn’t hear another word of this. “Mom, I feel sick.” I dropped the bowl on the dishrack and clutched my stomach. “I need to lie down.”

  “Oh, no.” She tsked. “I thought something was wrong. You barely touched your dinner and you love tortellini soup. Go on up and I’ll be there in a minute with water and medicine.”

  “Thanks.”

  I hurried out of the kitchen but slowed down when I reached the steps. Quietly, I tiptoed up the stairs, feeling slightly disgusted at the same time. It had already started. I was creeping around my own home rather than let Christian know I was coming.

  I can’t do this for the next year. He has to go!

  How are you going to make him leave? another voice spoke up. He knows exactly what he’s doing and he won’t go anywhere until he’s had his fill of torturing you.

  I saw my bedroom door peeking over the top of the staircase. I was so close. Only a few more steps.

  My feet soundless on the hardwood, I crept up to my door and grabbed the handle.

  I made—

  “What’s this?” My hand stilled. “Not even going to say goodnight?”

  I dropped my hand and turned around. Christian was leaning against the doorway. The sight of that smirk sent Old Rachel flaring up.

  I’m not taking his shit in my own house!

  I stalked up to him. “Why are you here, Christian?”

  He shrugged. “Didn’t you hear? I was invited.”

  “I heard you turned that invite down until this morning. All this because I told you to back off and find something else to do with your time?” A sneer found its way to my lips. “That’s pathetic.”

  He didn’t lose that cocky smile. “That’s right, Bryant. All of this”—he bent and his face hovered just over mine—“because you got confused about how this works.” Christian lowered his voice to barely a whisper. “I’ll decide when I’m done with you.”

  Old Rachel had nothing for that. My arms slipped a little as I lost my defiant stance. “Christian, be serious.” I spoke into his eyes. “This is my home. These are my parents. They genuinely want to help you and Miss Ruth. There is a limit, okay? This is too far.”

  I thought I saw something flicker in his eyes as I spoke, but it was gone as quickly as it came—if it was ever there.

  Christian’s eyes moved from mine and traced every inch of my face. I didn’t understand the look in his eyes, and I understood it even less when he lifted his finger and pressed it to my cheek.

  “There is no limit, Rachel.” Goose bumps popped all over my skin as his finger glided down my cheek. “Not with us.”

  The finger disappeared and he stepped back into his room. A million things went through my head but I couldn’t find my voice.

  “By the way.” My eyes flicked up to his. “Nice shorts.

  Laughter rolled out of his throat as he closed the door in my face.

  “I’M SORRY. I COULDN’T have heard that right. Did you just say Christian Moreau is living in your house?”

  We climbed the front steps of the school. People streamed around us, talking, shouting, and laughing. I ignored them all as I filled her in on the nightmare I had been thrown into.

  “That’s what I said.”

  She goggled at me. “This is how he gets back at you?! Holy fuck, what do you think he’s going to do?”

  I shook my head.

  “I mean, you literally can’t get away from him. He could sneak into your room while you’re sleeping. Or put something in your food. Or—”

  “Is this supposed to be cheering me up?”

  Estelle grabbed my shoulder and swung me around. “Rae, I’m serious. Whatever reasons he has for doing this, they’re not good for you. You’ve refused to tell your parents what was going on with him at school, but that’s got to stop now. Tell them he has to leave.”

  “That’s not true. I tried before to tell them Christian had changed but they didn’t listen. Mom and Dad are still tight with Miss Ruth, and according to her, Christian is an angel. Once, last year, I told Mom Christian’s new mission in life was to make me feel like crap and she came back with ‘sometimes we project our own feelings into a conversation, Rachel. Is it possible you were feeling down about yourself and you mistook what Christian said as an attack?’ After that, I gave up.”

  Estelle tossed her head back. “That woman and her therapy.”

  We picked up our feet and continued down the hall. “Besides, what am I supposed to tell her? He didn’t come right out and threaten me. And this morning all he did was sit mute at the table, eat a bowl of cereal, and blow out of there before I put my backpack on.”

  “I just don’t like this, babe. I have a really bad feeling.”

  “I do too.” I reached my locker and spun the combination. “But I still think you were right about standing up for myself. They’re going to come for me either way, so I might as well stop lying down and taking it.”

  “You know I got your back. I’m not afraid to cut a bitch.”

  I laughed. “Good ’cause we might have to—”

  I threw my locker open and an avalanche of white spilled out. “Ahh!” I jumped back, batting whatever it was away.

  Raucous laughter filled the halls as my shock cleared and I got a look at what was scattered at my feet.

  Diapers.

  I bit my lip hard.

  “You’re welcome, Rachel.” I glanced up and saw Madison and the rest of the squad a few feet down the hall, watching the whole thing. A cruel smile twisted her lips. “I’m sure you need more. Any kid of yours has got to be full of shit.”

  A red mist descended on me. I have never been a violent person, but I forgot all about that as white-hot fury sent me propelling at Madison. I ran at her, fist balled, and had just enough time to see her eyes widened before Estelle tackled me.

  “Rachel!”

  I struggled in her hold, but Madison took that opportunity to spin on her heels and flounce away with her squad right behind her. The rest of the people watching drifted off when they
saw there would be no catfight.

  “Why did you stop me?” I cried, shaking her off.

  Estelle jerked her head and gestured down the hall. “Look.”

  I followed her eyes and caught Biedermeier walking down the hallway. His eyes were buried in a book and he was completely oblivious as he strolled past the pile of diapers, but even he might have noticed a couple of girls screaming and rolling around on the floor.

  We waited for him to walk past. “Zero tolerance, babe,” Estelle said softly. “After Derek Chang, anyone who gets caught fighting gets expelled.”

  Chest heaving, I looked at the spot where Madison disappeared, wishing like hell Estelle wasn’t right.

  “You still have my back?” I asked.

  “Yes, of course.” Her reply was immediate.

  “Good. Because we are definitely going to have to cut a bitch.” I glanced back at the mess in front of my locker. “Game on.”

  Chapter Six

  I tilted my head back and let the sun wash over me. The heat soaked into my skin making me feel marginally better. The morning had started out bad and only got worse from there. They didn’t stop at packing diapers in my locker. Someone passed them around to the rest of the seniors and I found them on my desks, in the girls’ bathroom, and even thrown in my face as I walked to class.

  Christian didn’t have any diapers to throw at me, but when Josh Mackinall covered one in chocolate pudding and tossed it on my lunch, I saw the bastard glance toward Christian’s table for approval. Christian just looked back with that unreadable expression.

  The minute the bell rang, Estelle and I hopped in her car and drove to Meadow Creek Ravine. We needed to get as far away from town as possible. This natural spot that the town was named after was a beauty—quiet, peaceful, and a perfect lookout spot for the town in the distance. It was also not very popular due to a history of people jumping off the ravine and falling to their deaths in the creek below.

  It bummed us out too, but this was one of the few places we knew we wouldn’t run into Madison or Christian.