Brat: A High School Bully Romance (The King of Castleton High Book 2)

by Ellie Meadows

  I wanted that dress off of her. I wanted to see every inch of her body. And I wanted her to stop talking to Aiden.

  “Aiden,” I said his name. His gaze darted towards me. Tarryn turned slowly, refusing to act fazed by my appearance.

  “Castleton,” he responded, face going unreadable.

  “Thought you weren’t able to come tonight.” A gentle reminder of our deal.

  “My plans changed.” Aiden sat a little straighter, squaring up.

  “Then your bank account’s about to change also.” I shrugged, as if the money was the least important thing in the world. I mean it was. To me. But I knew for Aiden it meant a future.

  “What do you mean by that, Drake? You can’t threaten him anymore. The game’s over.” Tarryn’s fists pressed into her hips and she stood like superhero swooping in to save the underdog from the great big baddy. Little did she know…

  “Threaten him?” I smiled, quirking a brow. “Aiden was more than willing to play his part if it meant thousands of dollars into his college fund. It’s his problem that he suddenly grew a conscience towards the end. Is that what you’ve been telling her, Superman? That I threatened you?”

  Aiden shied away from the question. I watched Tarryn’s face fall in confusion as she glanced between us. “He said you lied to him about what you were doing. That you didn’t tell him everything. And then when he wanted to stop, you threatened him.”

  “How did I threaten him, Square? Did he tell you that?”

  She shook her head slowly, upper teeth pressing into her lower lip in a way that made my stomach clench. I could stop talking. It could stop here—the plan and the hurt.

  “Well, if he quit, I simply told him to give back my money.” I casually pushed my hands into my pants pockets. “I mean, over ten grand isn’t chump change, even to me.” Yeah, that was a bit of a lie. But for effect… I rocked back on my heels, going for casual honesty.

  Tarryn paled, and again a pesky pang of conscience tried to scold me. I was hurting her again, even if it was the truth. too deep now, buried to my neck. That’s how it always was. Had to keep pushing. Had to keep hitting. Had to…

  “You paid him ten thousand dollars to be part of your sick game?” She didn’t sound like she believed it. She faced Aiden, staring him down. “Is that true?”

  “I’m sorry, Tarryn. I’m so damn sorry.” Superman looked stricken. He meant it.

  She covered her mouth with her hands. “What is wrong with you people? What is wrong with this whole damn town and school?” Swiftly, too fast for me to reach out and stop her, Tarryn ran away from Aiden’s table. She brushed against dancing couples and nearly knocked down a parent chaperone. She was fleeing—wild and wounded.

  “You’re a real piece of work, Castleton.” I turned to find Aiden standing a few feet from me. “You didn’t have to hurt her like that. She didn’t need to know about the money.”

  “We hurt her. You and me, Superman.”

  I knew the punch was coming, but for some reason my brain didn’t register. It didn’t tell me to move, to duck, to get the fuck out of the way.

  Aiden’s fist slammed into my upper cheek below my right eye. I staggered back, shock stealing my voice.

  “Hey, hey! No fighting!” Coach Ventura raced over, automatically standing between me and Aiden and holding out his hands to keep us apart.

  “Wasn’t a fight,” Aiden said coolly. “Only a fight if the other guy hits back. Money bags here doesn’t have the balls.”

  Quick as lightning, I moved around Coach—who was heavy in the stomach and slow as hell.

  I grabbed Aiden’s jacket and I yanked him to the ground. He was heavier, taller, but I had the advantage of momentum and could use his weight against him. He slammed into the gym floor with a grunt. I fell to my knees, slamming my right fist into his stomach, and then my left fist into his face. Aiden tried to protect his body, arms and hands moving about wildly in an effort to block. I felt hands pulling at me, trying to peel me away from Aiden.

  But the animals were no longer in the zoo.

  They had fully escaped.

  And all I could see was goddamn red.

  4.

  T A R R Y N

  I was standing outside the gym, back against a row of lockers, when I heard the screams. Drake’s name. Aiden’s name. Girlish voices and adults shouting for ‘this nonsense to stop’.

  Walking towards the open double doors, I braced myself. I was fairly sure what I would see—two idiot boys fighting. Fighting over me? That would be a new one. The dance area came into view and my eyes went wide at the sight of Drake nearly on top of Aiden, pummeling him over and over again, his fists like an overzealous pair of meat tenderizers. Two large male chaperones and the Coach were trying to pull the boys apart.

  The music had stopped.

  But the lights were still blinking like prison spotlights, searching for escapees.

  Drake was unstoppable. Insane. Swinging at the adults who tried to stop him.

  I’ve no idea why I started running towards the fight.

  My body just started moving.

  And when I was close enough, I slammed to a halt and I yelled. “Drake, stop! Drake, you’re hurting him!”

  My voice seemed to reach him. His movements slowed, his gaze searched the room.

  His eyes were empty when they found me. They were full of nothing, as if he’d just released every ounce of himself into the world. All of him was caught up in the war with Aiden. I covered my mouth with my right hand, shock pushing through my body like a strange sort of adrenaline.

  Drake blinked at me. Moments passed, and then he seemed to come up for air. His silvery-blue gaze seemed confused. He glanced down at his hands, still balled in fists and splattered with blood. He rocked back on his heels, turned his head and looked at Aiden. And then he was falling to the ground, his ass hitting the hard floor with a thud, as he surveyed what he’d done.

  “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he mumbled, almost incoherent. “Fuck, I’m sorry.” His hands were no longer clenched and his fingers clawed into his hair. “I didn’t fucking mean to. He hit me first, goddammit. Why did he have to hit me?”

  Aiden wasn’t moving on the floor, his eyes closed and his face bruised and puffy. A few adults were kneeling next to him, checking the damage and trying to rouse him gently.

  “Come with me, Mr. Castleton.” A voice called my attention back to Drake. It was the severe-looking secretary I’d met on my first day here. Shelby Boyles. I’d been here long enough to know most everyone’s name now. Her face crinkled in worry and her glasses slipping down to the very tip of her sharp nose. I hadn’t even noticed her chaperoning. She slipped one hand beneath Drake’s arm whilst using the other to pull a small mobile from her skirt pocket. I watched in interest as she pressed only the number one and then send. Someone on speed dial.

  She walked, leading him towards me. Drake avoided my gaze as he passed and I stumbled away from the sight of blood across his hands and the crimson droplets on his cheeks. Nearly tripping over my dress, I was grateful for a pair of hands suddenly supporting me. At first, I thought it might be Aiden. I didn’t want it to be. I didn’t want to be touched by a guy right now.

  Thankfully, I found delicate hands when I looked down. “What in the…” What I recognized to be Sasha’s voice trailed off. “It looks like we missed all the fun, Steve.”

  I turned, my friend’s hands moved with my body, continuing to touch and support me. Sasha’s hair was mussed, her lipstick smeared around her mouth. Steve looked his normal level of disheveled. “Damn, looks like our boy kicked ass.”

  I snapped, a dam inside of me breaking to release a flood of emotions. “It wasn’t fun. He didn’t kick ass. It was… god, it was awful,” I sobbed on the last word.

  “I’m sorry, babe. I didn’t think.” Sasha was still touching me. I pulled away from her, refusing to acknowledge the hurt in her eyes when I did.

  “Hey, this shit happens. It’s not the first time he
’s gone off the deep end.” Steve shrugged, like the brutal fight I’d just witnessed meant nothing.

  Crossing my arms, I thought about that. This wasn’t the first time.

  Drake wasn’t just a bully.

  He wasn’t just a conflicted boy who couldn’t deal with a real connection.

  Drake Castleton was… dangerous.

  “I just want to go home,” I finally said, vision blurry and a dull thud beginning over my right eye.

  “Do you need a ride?” Sasha offered, though I could see Steve shuffle uncomfortably. He wasn’t ready to leave, I could tell.

  “No, I’ll figure it out.” I tried to smile, but the expression frozen half-formed on my face when I heard Aiden’s voice come to life behind me. Whirling, I found him sitting up, a bag of ice now against his face.

  “Don’t call the cops,” Aiden’s mouth barely moved as he spoke. “It’s over.”

  “Aiden, sweetheart, we have to call the authorities. That wasn’t a harmless tussle between boys. Your face is—”

  “I said I’m fine, Mrs. Dunham.” Aiden pushed the adults away and he stood, swaying only slightly from the quick movement.

  Once again, I felt my body moving quicker than my reason. Aiden’s eyebrows lifted slightly in surprise when I came to a stop in front of him. The skin around his eyes was swelling more. “Tarryn, I’m so sorry. I really am. I didn’t… I just didn’t think it through.”

  “No more apologizing, Aiden.” I held up a hand. “Or if you’re going to apologize for something, apologize for your face. It’s terrible to look at.” I smiled gently, so he’d know I was teasing him.

  He laughed, and then winced. His hand lifted and his fingers gently touched his misshapen face. “Wow, Tarryn. Not enough pain for you? Got to pour salt on the wound?”

  “Payback’s over when I say it is.” Shrugging, I reached out a hand and touched his upper arm. “Look, all of this is crap. You’re crap. Drake is a giant pile of crap. And I sort of wish I’d never had to move here.” I looked around the room. “This was my first school dance. Can you believe that?”

  “Not the best introduction,” Aiden admitted, looking appropriately guilty.

  “It’s over now. I can honestly say that in one night, I’ve had a lifetime’s worth of punch and bad music.” I ran my hands down the skirt of the dress, feeling sad that such a beautiful purchase had been absolutely wasted on such a freaking horrible experience.

  We stood there awkwardly, even after the music restarted and people began dancing once more.

  Finally, I cleared my throat. “I want to go home. Drake drove me though. Did you drive?”

  Aiden nodded. “Yeah, but I can’t see very well.”

  “I’ll drive you home, if you don’t mind me keeping your car overnight. Tomorrow, I’ll ask my Dad to follow me to your house. Are you okay enough to give me directions?”

  Once again, Aiden nodded.

  I was so, so glad to walk out of the gym, and even gladder when we were far enough away for the music to stop pounding into my brain. It was some sort of techno stuff—fast-moving, jarring. It was too much like a war of notes though, too much like fighting.

  I’d had enough fighting for one night.

  ###

  When we stepped out into the fresh air, I heard angry voices. It was easy to find the speakers—standing between two of the parking lot lights so that they were fully-illuminated.

  “I was in a goddamn meeting, Drake. Do you think it’s easy to coordinate with my Japanese field office? It’ll be days before we can reschedule.” A tall man with thinning hair the same distinct dark gold as Drake’s stood next to a black Lincoln. “I thought you’d stopped this nonsense. It’s been a fucking year, Drake. Do you think I won’t still transfer you to military school?”

  “It was a mistake,” Drake spoke, barely loud enough for me to hear at the top of the school steps. He looked defeated, world-weary, arms stuffed into his pockets. He was leaning against his green convertible which was parked next to his Father’s fancier car.

  “A mistake,” his father scoffed.

  “Mr. Castleton. In his defense, I don’t believe Drake started the—” Ms. Boyles got out a few words before she became the focus of Mr. Castleton’s wrath. She didn’t look self-assured and severe now; she looked nervous. She’d become a bird, poised on a branch she knew was too thin to support her weight.

  “Shelby, do not defend him. These mistakes,” he jabbed a finger towards his son, “have cost me a fortune in the past. Lawyer fees. Out of court settlements. Paying you to keep an eye on him in school. I know you’ve got a goddamn soft spot for the boy, but one day he’s going to go too far. Even my money won’t save him.”

  I moved down the concrete stairs slowly, Aiden followed after some hesitating.

  “Like you said—I’ve had a good year. It was one fuck up.” Drake seemed to rally himself, standing away from the car and straightening his spine.

  “Yes. A good year by your standards, Drake. I know you’re still skipping class. I know about your sexual escapades. You’re an embarrassment to the Castleton name, Drake. A goddamn embarrassment. You will follow me home. You will park that fucking car and give me the keys. And we will talk about this in the morning.”

  Drake glared at his father, but didn’t fight. He moved around the convertible, getting in and starting the engine.

  Ms. Boyles and Mr. Castleton hovered together for a few minutes talking, but I couldn’t hear anything now—not over the rumble of Drake’s car. Before he got in his car to drive away, Mr. Castleton pulled out his wallet and shoved folded bills at the secretary. She always appeared so confident… I kind of hated seeing her so frazzled.

  Drake waited a few moments before following his father. Maybe because he looked around the school green and spotted me walking with Aiden… after our eyes locked… I don’t even know what expression I saw on his face. The parking lot lights were a soft yellow glow on his face, his expression warped by shadows from the car frame.

  Anger.

  Grief.

  Regret.

  Need.

  He reversed out of the space like a madman, peeling out and leaving black marks on the road.

  The secretary walked towards us on her way back into school. Her eyes behind the thick frames went wide when she realized students had been outside the building during her conversation with the Castletons. “Why are you kids out here? The dance is indoors.” She acted like she was going to shoo us back into the school, but Aiden held up a hand.

  “I’m not feeling great, Ms. Boyles. I want to go home.”

  Her cheeks reddened and she stammered. “Oh, of course. Are you sure you don’t want to see a doctor?”

  “I really don’t. I just want to go home.”

  “And you’re okay to drive, Mr. Quinn?”

  I answered her, my desire to leave the school no less than it had been in the gym after the fight. “I’m driving him home, Ms. Boyles.”

  “Good, good. He shouldn’t drive.” She sighed, rubbing her arms against the chill in the air. “Run along then. Be safe.”

  Aiden’s car wasn’t like Drake’s. It was older; the paint had seen better days. But it was clean. Aiden took care of what he had.

  “Sorry,” he mumbled, swiping I guessed invisible crumbs off the driver’s seat before I sat down. He was already seated.

  “Are you kidding? Your car’s the cleanest I’ve ever been in. My parents keep ours okay, but it always smells like food to me.” I smiled at him after sitting down and buckling.

  “Well, still. You’re used to nicer. Drake’s car is—”

  “I don’t want to talk about Drake,” I interrupted, my voice tired.

  “Sorry.”

  “Stop saying sorry.”

  “I’ve done a lot to be sorry for,” he pushed.

  “But we’d already agreed no more apologies,” I countered, feeling a little annoyed. “I forgive you, Aiden. You made a shit choice. You’re paying for it.”
<
br />   “Can we be friends, you think?” His voice sounded sad.

  I didn’t answer immediately.

  “I don’t know, Aiden.”

  “You’re driving me home. You’re being nice as hell. That means something.” He rested his arm against the passenger door.

  “It means that you and Drake being absolute assholes isn’t going to change who I am. That’s all it means.” Again, I smiled gently at him. I wasn’t trying to be mean, but I wanted him to know that ‘turning the other cheek’ didn’t mean everything was forgotten. People say forgive and forget. I didn’t agree with that, not even a little bit.

  Forgive? Sure. But don’t forget… forgetting just opens the door for the same cycle of shit on repeat. Wanting better meant remembering.

  Aiden and I didn’t hold a conversation on the way to his house. He gave me directions and I followed them. I wasn’t going to linger as he walked towards his house which was, I imagined, the opposite of the Castleton home. But, as with the car, it was cared-for and recently-painted.

  After he unlocked the door and walked in, I shifted into drive. Before I could back into the street, the house porchlight flashed. Confused, I stopped again. A woman came out right after, a coat halfway on as she yelled behind her to Aiden who was standing in the doorway holding a younger kid.

  His kid brother. He’d talked about him a few times in school. He’d been taking care of him a few times when we’d messaged back and forth…

  No, that was Drake. I reminded myself.

  Shifting into park, I got out of the car. “Hi. You must be Aiden’s mom?” I made it a question, though I was pretty sure.

  “Yes. Thank you for driving him home. I can’t believe what happened. Aiden rarely goes to these sorts of school functions and to have that sort of freak accident. He looks like he’s been in the darn boxing ring!” She smoothed her hair back, now standing next to the passenger door. “Let’s get you home and I’ll drive the car back. I don’t want to put you and your parents out tomorrow.”

  I didn’t correct her. Aiden lied for a reason. “It wasn’t a problem. Aiden’s always been such a great guy.” I lied as well. Just lies upon lies to make the world seem okay to this mom who, by all accounts, worked her butt off to support her family.