Balls: A Bully Romance (The King of Castleton High Book 4)

by Ellie Meadows

  She pulled the zipper around fiercely, frowning at the musty smell that flowed from the case once it was open. Lifting the top, her frown deepened. Inside, was a crusty, mildewed swimsuit. Little olive-green spots had formed along the once pale-yellow material, and the damage extended from the swimsuit outwards onto the pink inner lining of the suitcase.

  Damaged.

  Ruined.

  Just like she was.

  She reclosed the bag, dragging it from her room, back towards the living room, past the adults still talking seriously who all looked at her curiously as she stomped towards the kitchen and back door.

  And then she opened that door and threw the suitcase out onto the back porch.

  It thudded against the peeling painted wood.

  And it seemed to look right where it was now, tossed out of the house and left to decay further atop the busted-up decking.

  Tabitha refused to look at her parents as she sullenly moved back to her room. She’d have to use the duffel bag, which meant she couldn’t pack neatly and keep her clothes from getting wrinkled.

  But whatever.

  Who cared?

  Going to New York was temporary, and she could always wash and dry her clothes after traveling.

  So, things would be a mess for a while, just like her life and her heart.

  But the future held possibilities. And she’d finally get what she wanted some day. She’d make sure of that.

  1.

  T A R R Y N

  -several weeks after the photos, the Sunday before winter break-

  No going back.

  I wasn’t ready to turn around, or walk a different path, or kiss a different boy.

  Even though I should be... I should want to be.

  But I didn’t hate him.

  Maybe a little bit.

  Fuck, I was just all colors of sad.

  I was trying like hell to study for my next test. The last one before winter break.

  I’d highlighted literally every word on every page I’d read, and I hadn’t absorbed anything, not even the easiest concepts that would usually be as natural as breathing for me to understand.

  The old me would never let someone derail my education.

  Of course, the old me hadn’t known Drake Castleton.

  I was the ‘after’ me. And I wasn’t sure I liked myself.

  It had been weeks since the photos. Since the revelation that Drake had slept with Tabitha. Slept with her after we’d started seeing each other, which just felt different than knowing he’d already been with her in the past, before me.

  Before.

  After.

  Now.

  Time was a jumbled-up mess inside my heart and head.

  Had Drake and I been dating? Had we been exclusive? Did it matter? I wasn’t sure anymore, not about everything. Though I felt confident that he understood me; that he realized how I’d feel about him being with another girl. It was like my nightmare. The teacher. The broken-hearted rival. All at war for Drake Castleton’s heart and body.

  He’d called me dozens of times. Knocked on our door over and over again, only to be turned away by my confused mother or father. They didn’t know what had happened, and I refused to tell them.

  Because once I did, then there’d be no going back.

  They wouldn’t look at him the same, even if we reconciled.

  Though I had little dating experience, I knew that once you told your parents how a boy had done you wrong, then that meant you were done with the relationship. Ready to move on and find someone new. There was just no coming back from that. You’d end up getting lecture after lecture from the parental units about what he did and what he’d probably do again. Every second would come with looks that said: ‘what could possibly be going through your brain to give that idiot another chance?’.

  So, I’d have to decide I was one thousand percent done with stupid Drake Castleton before I told my parents what was going on. I’d have to close off my heart to the stupid rich boy. I’d have to be over him.

  And I wasn’t.

  I couldn’t be.

  God, that stupid boy was in my dreams. Every. Freaking. Night.

  Admittedly, sometimes the dreams were closer to nightmares, but his face was still in them. Front and center. Mocking me with how damn good looking he was. And I knew, rationally, that looks didn’t matter at all, not if the guy was a piece of crap. But this was… Drake. It’s hard to let go of your first intense crush, your first experience with love, even as twisted up as it had become. Wretched as it was now. And maybe it wasn’t anything more than puppy love, or the appeal of a bad boy persona, but I couldn’t let him go.

  Bad boy persona.

  He’d proven that to the bitter end, hadn’t he?

  I almost felt sorry for Tabitha. Almost. Hadn’t she gone down the same path I had? Hadn’t she fallen for Drake and he’d burned her to the ground? So how could I blame her for getting a piece of her own back, for making him pay just a little? The answer was that I couldn’t. He’d deserved what he’d gotten in some way, but I hadn’t deserved it.

  I’d been collateral damage.

  And now I felt like damp wood trying so hard to burn and be done with it. I wanted to be ash, because then maybe I could chemically change into something new and forget all about him and his stupid smile.

  “God!” I yelled, picking up my textbook and tossing it off the bed to clunk on the floor. It fell open with a whoosh of pages, its spine protesting, and chemical equations blinked up at me accusingly. “Nothing is helping!” I shouted again, sitting up and angrily pulling a throw blanket over my head to block out the world.

  It didn’t, being the knit kind with a million pattern-perfect holes that basically rendered it useless and only decorative.

  Sunlight streamed through the design, laughing at me, just like the material I should be learning so I didn’t bomb the exam.

  I pulled the blanket back off my head and stared over at the calendar on the wall, with all its little red Xs marking the countdown to Christmas and winter break. It was the last exam before two blissful weeks of nothingness. Sasha and her family were going to the mountains, and they’d invited me to go along. At first, my parents had balked at being apart for our ‘potentially last Christmas together’. Actually, Mom had whined over it, being her normal dramatic self, and Dad had miraculously reasoned with her that I’d be home for Christmas from college in the future and it wasn’t the end of the world. She hadn’t been convinced until I’d talked with Sasha and we’d come up with an early return plan so that I wouldn’t miss tree decorating, holiday brunch, the corny Santa movie marathon. She’d come with me, and her parents weren’t upset at all over having what they were now calling a second honeymoon with no kids in a romantic cabin. When I’d still been on the phone with Sasha, I’d heard her mom tease her dad about edible underwear. Sasha had almost died of embarrassment before quickly hanging up the phone.

  I’d missed the second track and field tryouts, my head just too messy to focus, but Coach Ventura let me try out anyways and join as a second-string wannabe that would likely never compete. But, hell, at least it got me involved in something, anything, to get my mind off things. And it looked good on my late college applications. Moving had put a kink in so many things. No early admissions, all those deadlines had passed, so I was working hard on getting everything ready to meet the January deadlines at a few schools for regular decision. I was playing it safe, dream schools and backups and backups for the backups. Money-wise, I’d end up at a state school unless I could score some aid and scholarships. I didn’t want to be too far from my parents. But a few hours, some distance, to decrease the chance mom would drop by the dorm unannounced to check on me... and my hair... and my dating life.

  “Tarryn!” Speak of the devil shouted up from the downstairs, and only then did I notice the delicious scent of Dos Huevos, one of my favorite takeout restaurants. I hopped up, racing down the stairs with my mouth already watering in anticipation. C
heese smothered enchiladas here I come!

  At the bottom of the stairs though, I came to a screeching halt.

  I hadn’t seen Aiden in at least a week. He’d tried to talk to me after the pictures, check on me and see if I was okay, but I’d told him I just needed to cut myself off from everything having to do with the situation. And, for better or worse... for worse really... he was still part of the problem. The honey in the original fly trap.

  “Tarryn, Aiden wanted to talk to you.” Dad smiled at me, still blissfully unaware of the full story, and only knowing that I’d talked about a nice boy at school named Aiden with a kid brother and hardworking Mother and how he was saving up for college. Normal chatter over dinner, none of the darkness, none of the details.

  “Oh, okay,” I nodded, plastering on a strained smile. I’d tried to be his friend, tried to completely forgive him, but in the end, I hadn’t found it possible. Every time we spoke, I remembered the lies and the money he’d taken for fake dating me.

  But I’d tried. I’d really tried.

  A good guy, who’d done a bad thing. That’s who he was. He loved his brother and his mother, and he was working so hard to make a future.

  “Hey,” I bit my lip, waiting for him to say something after my dad left. When he didn’t, I plunged forward awkwardly. “How’s your mom? Your brother? How old is he? I don’t think I ever asked that...” I let my words trail off, feeling stupid.

  “He’s fourteen.”

  “Fourteen?” My gaze widened in surprise. His brother was small, small enough for him to pick up easily and I’d thought, at most, he was eight or nine. Aiden was a big guy by any standards and made a lot of people look small, but the kid hadn’t looked like a teenager. Not by a long shot...

  “He’s really small for his age. Smart as hell though. It’s this idiopathic growth hormone thing. But he’s not behind maturity wise. Just... probably never going to get really big or anything.” Aiden clasped a hand around the back of his neck, a bead of sweat rolling down from his temple to the outer curve of his mouth. “I take care of him whenever Mom asks, but he really doesn’t need help. He’s got enough of a personality to tell my mom she’s being overzealous.” At this, Aiden smiled.

  “You really aren’t the kind of guy who takes payments for leading on a girl and acting like a complete jerk, you know that?” I crossed my arms and leaned against the wall to stare at him. We’d had this conversation before, but I was repeatedly struck by the fact that Drake was able to rope such a nice person into his atrocious scheme to screw the new girl.

  “I never thought I’d do something like that. And for money.” He blushed, the chocolate of his cheeks tinging the slightest hint of red. But then he dropped his hand and straightened up to look me dead in the face. His head bobbed in an almost imperceptible nod, like he was gearing up to say something that he had to convince himself to say. Nothing easy, something difficult. Maybe I didn’t want to hear it.

  “Listen, do you want to go out?” He pushed the words out in a quick expulsion of air, and then took a seemingly unconscious step backwards towards our open front door.

  “Like, on a date?” I gaped, mouth hanging up and continuing my trend of feeling awkward and dumb.

  “No, not exactly. I don’t think we’re dating material, not after what happened.” He gave a half smile, eyes a little sad. “But I really want to be your friend. I want to make it up to you. And I thought dinner and a movie might be a start.”

  “Dinner and a movie? I like simple things. You don’t have to be super inventive to impress me.” I tried to keep a straight face, but finally cracked and laughed when I realized his own smile had faded into a dejected frown.

  “It was a dumb idea,” he said quickly, turning away and all but racing out the door.

  “Wait, Aiden!” I shouted after him, bouncing away from the wall and catching up quickly. I reached out and grabbed him by the upper arm, gently pulling him to a stop. “I was giving you a hard time. That's sort of our thing, isn’t it? I tease you for making a bad decision courtesy of Drake Castleton, you act apologetic, we make up and I drive you and your swollen face home?” I referenced the homecoming dance and the big blow up between him and Drake. It still made me cringe.

  “Yeah, I guess.” He shrugged. “But we can’t be friends if you’re never really going to forgive me, so trying to force it is stupid.”

  God. He was right.

  And now I was the one being a jerk.

  “I’m sorry. You’re right. And we’ve had this dumb song and dance before. I shouldn’t give you shit over it again. I’m just... I’m really hurt over what’s happened with Drake. And like I told you at school, it’s hard to separate you from it now. Harder even than it was at homecoming.”

  “I get it. But I wanted to try. And I can be honest and say that it’s mostly still because of my guilt. But also—”

  “Because you’re a good person,” I interrupted him, before he could spiral into more self-deprecation. “You don’t need to feel guilty anymore, and I’ll try to be less... judgmental over it all. No more half-forgiving and bringing it up. Though, I guess I can’t really promise that? Drake still exists. He’s still there,” I tapped on my own head, “rocketing around my brain like a rogue neuron that won’t stop firing.”

  “He gets under people’s skin, that’s for sure.”

  “How about Wednesday night? Schools out for break, and I don’t leave for the mountains with Sasha until Friday night.”

  “Getting away for Christmas? Jealous.” He smiled.

  “Well, for part of the holiday. My mom threw a royal tantrum when she thought I might miss our ‘very last Christmas with me living in the house ever’.” I affected a voice like my mother’s, though there really was no imitation of the way she sounded when she started layering on the guilt butter.

  Guilt butter is what Dad called it.

  In the end, he’d nearly always give in to Mom when she was laying on the guilt butter, and if I was in the room, he’d look at me and say, ‘we might as well let her win because we’re already toasted’.

  And he’d say it without cracking a smile. Well, he used to. Nowadays, his smiles came easier. Our family felt more together than it had... well, ever.

  “Anyways, Sasha’s going to bring me back and hang out, so it’ll be nice even with my mom being... her usual self.” I smiled.

  “That sounds nice,” Aiden was saying, voice wistful. “I’ve got to work, but I’ve got Christmas Day off and I was able to buy a few presents.”

  I looked at him for a minute, considering.

  “Dinner and a movie then? Pick me up around seven on Wednesday?”

  He smiled, genuine and with the sadness chased away from his eyes. “See, even I get a Christmas present. I guess I’m not the worst guy in the world, even when I screw up.”

  “You’re far from it, Aiden.” I offered, giving his shoulder a quick squeeze before turning around and retreating into the house. His car groaned to life as I closed the door, the breaks squealing a little as he pulled away from the curb. If I had money like Drake Castleton, I’d buy him a new car. I’d pay for his college. I’d do good with the money.

  At least, I hoped I’d be that kind of person.

  I took a deep breath before walking towards the kitchen, where Mexican food and my parents were waiting. They’d ask questions without a doubt, wanting to know why Aiden had lingered to talk to me. If I said he’d asked me on a ‘kind of’ date, but not a date, so we could try and be friends, then they’d want to know why we weren’t friends already if I’d talked about him before and had nice things to say. If I said it was a ‘real real’ date, they’d want to know what was going on with Drake. The boss’s son, perfectly charming with a sense of humor and good looks. The less I could get away with saying, the better.

  “Aiden’s just so cute!” My mother exclaimed the second I was in sight.

  My dad rolled his eyes and slammed a giant bite of fajita into his mouth. He’d clearly al
ready told her to relax and not interrogate. As if it would do any good.

  “I mean, Drake is adorable and rich, but that boy just has something else going for him. A spark. And he’s so tall and muscle-y.”

  “Muscle-y isn’t a word,” I quipped, trying not to grab the bag of chips and race away to save my sanity. I could just nibble on dry tortilla chips. I didn’t need the amazing smelling food that what was, once again, making my mouth water.

  Food won, and I sat down at the bar where Dad was, while Mom was hopping around the kitchen snacking and plating my enchiladas.

  “Here, baby. Eat up and spill.”

  “Leave her alone, Tish. The poor girl just wants to eat.”

  “And this poor mom just wants to know what’s going on with her baby girl! We’ve not seen Drake in a couple weeks. She doesn’t seem to be obsessively texting with him or even gabbing to Sasha over boys. Something happened. And if that something means maybe that cutie pie Aiden has a chance, I want to know.”

  “My mother dated two men her whole life and was happily married—"

  Mom held up a hand to stop him. “No, we have made a fresh start in this house, Greg. You don’t bring up your mother and make comparisons all the time anymore. Not about Tarryn’s hair color, or her dating life, or my lack of cooking skills. We are, after years at war's edge, finally surrounded by a hard-won fog of peace.” She held up a finger when my dad opened his mouth as if to argue. “Please realize that fog can dissipate fast, Greg.”

  He opened his mouth again, but one final look from my mom even had me stuffing my face and keeping quiet. Not that I minded. I didn’t want to spill even one bean, not about what was going on with Drake and Aiden.

  2.

  T A R R Y N

  -After school, the Monday before winter break-

  Counting down the days.

  The hours.