The Elites Of Weis-Jameson Prep Academy: The Complete Series (A High School Enemies To Lovers Bully Romance Box Set)

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The Elites Of Weis-Jameson Prep Academy: The Complete Series (A High School Enemies To Lovers Bully Romance Box Set) Page 63

by Rebel Hart


  I hesitate for a moment, still feeling afraid. But I finally wrap my arms around him and rub his back gently. “Shhhh,” I comfort him softly. “It’s okay.”

  We rock back and forth like that for a few moments. Then all at once, he straightens, pulling back to wipe his nose. He seems like himself again and looks embarrassed for whatever just happened.

  “Sorry,” he says again. “I just kind of lost it for a moment. I couldn’t…I couldn’t breathe.”

  “I think you just had a panic attack,” I suggest with concern, studying the change in his face.

  “Those fuckers,” he sneers, wiping his nose again with a sniffle.

  I let him calm down some more, knowing I can’t process any of this for myself until I’m alone again. Away from his deep, mournful eyes staring back at me with his twisted pink lips that I love and yearn for always, even in fucked-up moments like this.

  We hide out in there for a while until after the bell has rung and we hear the hallways grow silent again. Then I walk Emmett to his class as I promised. As I walk on my own after delivering him to the door, I am horrified to have such a recent reminder of that side of Emmett. The side of him that is so lost and confused, it’s almost inhuman. That used to be the only side of him I saw, and he did awful things to me when that part of him was in the steering wheel. I can’t help but wonder if these new Elites will find a way to crack him, bringing the old demented Emmett out again for good.

  Something else stirs in me after the awful morning. It’s a strange, new way of seeing Emmett. He suddenly doesn’t seem as strong as he used to. Not that breaking down or having a panic attack is anything weak in itself. No, it’s something else. Just as I try to quietly slip into my class, ignoring the teacher who chastises me for being late, I realize I’m having a hard time feeling sorry for Emmett right now. I have walked in his shoes before, only the difference was…he was usually the one tormenting me.

  In a sick way, it’s like the new Elites are exacting revenge on my behalf. Emmett is getting a dose of his own medicine. I wouldn’t say I’m enjoying it, but part of me feels like Emmett is getting what he deserves after all those years of being on the other side of this, doling out punishments to anyone who crossed him or questioned his position. And if that’s how I really feel…should we be together?

  Chapter Eleven

  BOOK 3

  I bound out of school at the end of the day, eager to get to practice. Emmett usually walks me, but today I rush over to the locker rooms without him. I feel bad leaving him to fend for himself, but there is still some resentful part of me that thinks he should be able to tough it out on his own. I hate feeling that way and it only makes me more impatient to run it all out of my system.

  Once I’m changed, I join the others on the field and try to start warm-ups. But Coach Granger blows his whistle and asks us to huddle together. We groan and form a group around him. It’s freezing cold and the only thing to warm us up is to get moving, but first he says he has an announcement to make.

  “Everyone, I’d like you to meet Jada,” he announces, nodding to the petite, dark-skinned woman at his side. She’s nearly half his height, as most people are, with a cute button nose and little black curls pulled into a bun around her bright face. “She’ll be working with you all this semester as my new coaching assistant.”

  I expect Jada to smile with her introduction, but instead, she stands firm with her arms behind her back, practically scowling at all of us. Which is for the best. My favorite coaches have always been mean and stern, more concerned with pushing us to be the best runners we can be rather than pretending to be our friends.

  After Jada is introduced, the other girls and I line up on the track field, waiting for the whistle to blow. I feel like a bull waiting to charge as jets of steam shoot out of my nose and mouth against the cold air. I’m freezing in my thin running gear, but I know soon my skin will be burning hot once I get a good way into the laps. And I am in serious need of the release. I could barely stand to make it through warm-ups. I bounced through the stretches and exercises, impatiently waiting for the chance to take off.

  The whistle shrieks and I start running, leaving the others behind me by a long shot. I break into a fast and even stride, leaving everyone and everything behind me. I’m so desperate to run away from the complexities of my life that I don’t even have to get through the first mile to get that runner’s high. The pumping adrenaline hits me instantly.

  Practice flies by as I slip into a sort of trance. I run through a mindless meditation, basking in the peace and quiet. There is nothing but me and the building pain in my body and chest as I round the final few laps. I notice Jada eyeing me intently as I slow down into the covered bleachers where we always gather at the end of practice.

  Coach makes a few announcements about upcoming competitions but keeps it brief. Now that we’re all motionless and sweaty, the cold quickly sets back in. We’re all dismissed, but Coach asks me to hang back for a moment. Just long enough to spout off some of my times for the day, complimenting me and reminding me of my training commitments to keep it up.

  “Good job out there today, Lopez,” Jada concurs with Coach as they walk away, heading for his office.

  I’m feeling good from their praise, but mostly just relieved from how therapeutic today’s run was. As I gather everything up to head into the locker room, I remember that Emmett is supposed to drive me home. Practice helped me get some things off my mind, but I’m still feeling conflicted enough about him to not want to see him. I consider running home, which would give me an excuse to avoid him, but would also give me more opportunity to run everything out of my system.

  “You okay?” a voice interrupts my thoughts suddenly from the corner of the bleachers.

  I whip around in surprise to see Bridgett standing there, watching me closely as she reaches for her gym bag.

  “What do you care?” I bite back.

  “Don’t be like that,” she scoffs. “No one’s around, you know. We don’t have to pretend to hate each other.”

  I blink in shock, realizing that she is aware of the expected dynamic between her as an Elite and me as someone who is blacklisted. She knows how she is supposed to treat me, obviously. But does she know what will happen if she doesn’t obey?

  “I’m Bridgett,” she says suddenly, ignoring my frozen, blank expression as she marches right up to me with her hand out.

  I shake it lightly, unsure of what to say. “Ophelia,” I answer slowly. “But I’m sure you know that.”

  “Well, sure…but we’ve never officially met,” she smiles, but it fades as I continue staring at her with wide eyes. “I’m not going to bite,” she huffs.

  “You don’t seem to know how things work around here,” I defend for her own sake. “I’m blacklisted. If Malcolm or the others see you talking to me or being nice at all, they’ll make you pay.”

  “I’m not scared of them,” she insists with a shrug of her shoulders. “Anyways, I grew up with Malcolm. We’re cousins. It’s hard to see him as a threat when our moms used to throw us in kiddie pools with each other as naked toddlers.”

  I want the image to be humanizing enough to make him less scary. But then I quickly remember the time he overpowered me on his couch, trying to force himself on me. Or the way he looked when he was ganging up on Emmett with his dad and the others. Maybe Emmett would have thought Malcolm wasn’t so scary either. They had grown up together too, after all. But he was quickly proven wrong.

  But her defiance of their rules is admirable, even if it does seem suicidal. It’s the same kind of rebellion I’d be bolder about if there wasn’t so much at stake right now.

  “You were great out there today,” she adds. “I heard you would be, but man…you were even better than I expected.”

  “I had a lot on my mind today,” I explain resentfully. “Nothing pushes me harder than a bad day. So I guess I can thank you for that.”

  “Thank me?” she laughs. “What the hell do I
have to do with it?”

  “You’re an Elite,” I remind her. “So little stunts like that mass text this morning and the big show in the hall…You’re a part of all that whether you want to be or not.”

  “What stunt? Texts? What are you talking about?” she stares at me with her mouth twisted and brows wrinkled.

  Her ignorance makes me angry at first, assuming this is all a part of some trick. But I look at her more and realize she really doesn’t know what I’m talking about. “Were you not in the hall this morning? When everyone started harassing me and Emmett?”

  “I listened to Malcolm rant and rave about the kinds of things kids did at this school for years,” she tells me. “Up until recently when it turned into him bragging about everything he’s done or what he plans to do. People around here are crazy. When my parents told me we were moving here from California so my dad could start working with Uncle Liam, I made a plan right then to follow along but keep my head down. I get here early in the mornings and go straight to class. I prefer to stay out of it all.”

  “Good luck,” I jeer, remembering when I once thought it was possible to just keep my head down and stay out of their way. “You’d be surprised how easy it is to offend them. And then they’ll make you sorry.”

  “It’s different now,” she argues. “The old Elites felt entitled to their roles in this town. The new ones are more focused on money and business. They’d much rather sit around and get drunk coding some software than go after some kids they don’t like at school. Not to say they won’t. I’m just saying they have bigger things on their mind is all.”

  “I don’t know if that’s better or worse,” I shudder in the cold.

  “It’s freezing,” she hisses. “What are you doing after you shower and clean up?”

  “What am I doing?” I ask blankly, genuinely confused as to why she would care.

  “Yeah. Wanna grab something to eat? Catch a movie?” she asks innocently, but I’m still too thrown to answer. “We can go to the next town over, so no one sees us,” she insists. “I get tired of hanging out with my family all the time. I could use a new friend.”

  I squint my eyes at her, trying to discern if this is some kind of trick. Everything I know about the Elites tells me there’s no way this won’t end in something horrible happening to me. But there is something different about Bridgett. A certain laid back, down to earth vibe about her that matches her claimed sentiment of wanting to stay out of all the drama. Hanging out with someone besides Emmett does sound great. As much as I love him, I have been craving some time with a girl my age. Something I haven’t experienced ever since Lily turned on me and went off the deep end.

  “I don’t have my car,” I tell her, hoping that’ll ruin what she had in mind. It’d be easier if I didn’t have to make the choice of whether or not to trust her.

  “We can take mine,” she offers. “I can take you home afterward. But whatever we do, let’s get into the locker rooms. It’s too fucking cold to stand out here and talk about it all night.”

  I nod and run in after her. Once the others are around, Bridgett does what is expected of her and ignores me completely. But the moment I’m dry and bundled up in regular clothes outside again, she finds me around the side of the building with no one else in sight.

  “So, what do ya say?” she asks again, looking hopeful.

  So much of me screams to play it safe and turn down her invite, but I do so desperately need a friend who isn’t my mom or my boyfriend. Bridgett is close to my age and she’s a runner. I want more than anything to be able to put all the dumb Elite bull shit aside and just have some fun with a girl from school.

  “Fuck it,” I exhale finally. “Let’s go.”

  “Sweet,” she smiles back at me. “My car is just over there. I don’t think anyone will see us walking together if we go right now.”

  I nod and follow behind her, but of course, a figure appears around the corner as we get closer to her parked car. At first, we turn in different directions, putting distance between us.

  “Oh wait,” I call over to Bridgett. “It’s okay. It’s just Emmett. Come over and say hi.” I announce it casually but really my heart is pounding. I was hoping to avoid him altogether this afternoon.

  Bridgett runs over and catches up to me before we’re within earshot of Emmett. “Hey,” she grabs me and whispers into my ear. “Are you sure he’s cool?” she asks nervously. “I’m not afraid of Malcolm or anything, but…well…I’m not stupid either, you know. You sure you two aren’t just going to punish me for whatever my stupid cousin has done to you?”

  I sigh with relief, realizing all at once that Bridgett is just as wary of us as I am of her. “I promise it will be okay,” I assure her. “Even if he’s weird about us hanging out, he would never do anything to you.”

  Emmett’s face wrinkles as he gets closer and I have to hope my last promise to her is one I can keep. The Emmett I have come to know would never maliciously hurt another person, but with everything that happened this morning, how things used to be are too fresh on my mind.

  “Hey,” he grumbles, staring Bridgett down.

  “This is Bridgett,” I put my hand on her shoulder, hoping to defuse everything. I shoot him a look as if trying to communicate telepathically – this one’s okay, I promise. Just be nice. “And this is Emmett,” I nod over to him.

  “Hey man, what’s up?” she says coolly, embodying her Californian roots.

  He lifts his chin briefly in a half-hearted greeting, but mostly just keeps darting his eyes back to me in disbelief. “I waited for you after school,” he says dryly. “I thought I’d walk you to practice like always. And then I thought I’d drive you home.”

  “Oh, sorry,” I answer awkwardly, wishing he could have saved the interrogation for later.

  “Hey, I’m gonna go heat up the car,” Bridgett tells me. “I’ll wait for you. Nice to meet you, Emmett.”

  “Okay, cool,” I smile towards her just before she runs off shivering. I want to go running after her, but Emmett’s eyes are burning into me expectantly.

  “What the fuck?” he scoffs.

  “She’s nice,” I instantly defend, knowing what he’s thinking. “Or she seems nice anyway. She knows she’s not supposed to be friends with me, but we’re just gonna keep it on the down low.”

  “Have you lost your mind!?” his voice strains. “She’s an Elite, Ophelia! Did you forget that they just tried to kill you a couple of weeks ago!? And what about everything they did to me today!?”

  “You used to be an Elite too,” I snap coldly. “I doubt she had anything to do with either of those things. She doesn’t want to be wrapped up in their bullshit…just like you didn’t.”

  He looks over at her car as it starts up, blowing heaps of smoke into the air as the sun begins to set in the distance. “It’s different,” he insists.

  “How?” I grimace at him. “How is it different?”

  “You don’t understand how they are,” he mumbles.

  “Oh, I don’t!?” I fume, feeling my heart throbbing with anger. “Have I not been just as wrapped up in everything as you ever since I came to Jameson? You don’t think I’ve learned anything by now? Or are you saying Elites can never change? Cause if that’s the case…I shouldn’t be standing here talking to you either.”

  His lips part to argue back, but he stops himself, seemingly tripping over his own defenses in his mind. “I don’t want to fight,” he says instead, still looking defeated as his lips tighten.

  “Me either,” I agree, inching closer towards him. “I love you, Emmett.” I know that much is true, even if everything today brought back old feelings of how fucked-up our love might be. Even now.

  “I love you, too, Ophelia.”

  “But sometimes…I just really, really miss hanging out with other girls my age,” I explain, my voice dripping with so much desperation I’m practically whining. “We’re just going to hang out for a little bit. Outside of Jameson so no one will know.
If she turns crazy on me, I’ll call you right away.”

  I stand on my tiptoes to kiss him, but he’s stiff and it takes him a minute to fully kiss me back. I can see his mind racing with more arguments or comebacks, but I meant what I said about not wanting to argue. And this has already been blown into a bigger deal than it should be, bringing back my feelings of being some 18th-century maiden…royalty that’s not allowed to socialize with certain people.

  “I’ll call you later,” I tell Emmett before quickly bouncing backward and running towards Bridgett’s car.

  “Everything cool?” she asks as I jump in.

  “He’ll be fine,” I tell her, hoping I’m right. “He’s just a little untrusting…which I’m sure you can understand.”

  “Maybe not as well as you’d think,” she frowns. “But we’ve got twenty minutes until we get into the next town. Why don’t you tell me about it?”

  I spend the rest of the ride filling her in on everything that happened that day. Once I start talking, I can’t stop. Soon everything is spilling out, including our complicated past and how all of those old, awful feelings between Emmett and I were dredged up today. Bridgett is a great listener and extremely nice, but it’s almost like talking to a therapist. It almost doesn’t even matter what she says. I just needed to talk to someone new about it all without having to lie.

  Chapter Twelve

  BOOK 3

  “Mmmm,” I close my eyes and grunt as I take in big, hurried bites of my mom’s enchiladas.

  “You’re supposed to chew your food. Not inhale it,” Brendan chuckles.

  I ignore him and continue shoveling the fork into my mouth. Both him and my mom stare at me with wide eyes as I go.

  “What’s the rush?” my mom asks finally.

  I pull a napkin to my face and attempt to swallow enough to talk. “Emmett is picking me up,” I reply. “Date night.”

 

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