Do It Or Else: A High School Bully Romance (Dirty Little Secret Book 3)

by Kai Juniper

  "Ella," he yells from the living room. "What'd you decide?"

  I don't feel like going out, but he seems excited about having dinner with me so I feel like I should go. He's been in a really good mood lately, which doesn't make sense since we're losing the house soon. I think it's Susan making him feel that way, but I'm not ready to accept that. I'm not ready to accept that he's falling in love with a woman who's not my mom. I like Susan, and think she's good for him, but this is all happening so fast. The other night I heard Susan telling my dad he could stay with her after he sells the house. Maybe she meant he could stay there until he found a new place, but it almost sounded like she was asking him to move in with her for good.

  "Ella?" my dad yells. "Did you hear me?"

  "We can go to dinner," I say as I leave my room.

  He's in the kitchen, going through the mail. "We don't have to, if you don't want to."

  "I want to," I say, walking up to him. "I just have a lot to get done."

  He sets the mail down. "Are you sure that's it?"

  "Yeah. Why?"

  "You haven't seemed like yourself this week. Did something happen at school?"

  "Dad, you're reading too much into it. I'm just tired. I have a lot of tests coming up and I've been studying a lot."

  He folds his arms over his chest. "So this wouldn't have anything to do with a certain young man?"

  "I don't know what you're talking about."

  "I haven't seen a three hundred thousand dollar Porsche in my driveway for a few days now. Might even be a week since I've seen it."

  I stare at him. "Are you serious? That car is worth three hundred thousand dollars?"

  "Maybe a little less, but close to three hundred."

  Holy shit. I had no idea it was worth that much. I didn't even know they made cars that cost that much.

  "I assume this is about what his father did?" my dad says. "Convincing the city to take our house?"

  "It wasn't his dad, it was him. Briggs told his dad to do it."

  "Did he tell you that?"

  "No, his dad did."

  He nods.

  "What?" I say. "Why are you acting like you don't believe me? Briggs' dad told me it was Briggs' idea. His dad wouldn't just make that up."

  "You sure about that?"

  I look at him, trying to figure out what's going on here. "Dad, do you know something you're not telling me?"

  "No, but I will say that I wouldn't believe too much of what Briggs' father tells you. It sounds like he's been involved in some shady business deals."

  "How do you know that?"

  "I might've had Susan do some research for me. She has access to information that's not public." He points his finger at me. "That's just between us. You don't tell anyone that. She could get in trouble if anyone found out I asked her to look into this."

  "Yeah, okay. So what'd she find out?"

  "Briggs' father has been accused of bribing people to get what he wants. He's smart enough to cover his tracks so they can't charge him with anything. He's also been accused of inflating the value of investments at his firm to get new clients."

  "He's a sales guy. Aren't they all like that?"

  "This goes beyond that. I can't get into details. I just want you to know that the man can't be trusted. Don't believe everything he tells you."

  "Why would he lie about Briggs wanting to tear down our house?"

  My dad shrugs. "Maybe to get you away from him. I'm sure Mr. Chadwick doesn't want his son being seen with someone in our income bracket."

  "Someone who's poor. You can say it."

  "Ella, we're not poor. I hope you don't really think that."

  "I don't, but compared to Briggs and everyone else around here..."

  "They're not the norm. You can't compare us to them. I make a decent living doing what I do. We've never struggled. We live a simple life because that's what I choose. It's what I'm comfortable with. We could afford a better house and better cars, but it still wouldn't be good enough for someone like Mr. Chadwick. People like him don't want their children being around people like us. They think we're not smart enough or rich enough or good enough. That's why I didn't want you being around Briggs. I didn't want him making you think you're not good enough."

  "He didn't, at least not recently."

  "What does that mean?" my dad asks, his brows drawing together. "Are you saying Briggs—"

  "No. Just forget it. Why are we talking about this? It doesn't matter if Briggs' dad lied or didn't. Our house is still being taken from us because one, or both of them, told the city to tear it down."

  "Honey, I'm not defending Briggs. Believe me, I'd rather keep him and his father out of our lives. I'm only saying this for your sake. Because I don't like seeing you like this."

  "Like what?"

  He sets his hand on my shoulder. "You've been moping around this house for almost a week now, or since whenever it was you stopped talking to Briggs."

  "It has nothing to do with Briggs," I insist. "And I'm not moping. I'm just tired."

  "I've seen you tired, and it's not that. You seem sad, and I'm worried. I know you're still having this disagreement with Charlotte, so maybe that's part of it, but I think it also has to do with this fight you're having with Briggs. That's when I really noticed a change in you."

  "I haven't changed. You're just super happy now and it's making everyone else look like they're not."

  He smiles. "I AM happy. But that isn't affecting how I see you. I know my daughter, and I know when she's hurting."

  I look away. "I don't want to talk about this. Are we going to dinner or not?"

  "Why don't you just talk to him? You don't have to be friends with him. In fact, I'm hoping you'll stay away from him after this, but I think you need to resolve whatever this is that's making you feel this way so you can move on from it and feel better."

  I shake my head. "I'm not talking to him. I don't need to."

  "Then how about Charlotte? Have you tried working things out with her?"

  "Only about a million times. She won't talk to me at school and she won't pick up the phone when I call. I even went to her house, but she wouldn't answer the door."

  "What happened with you two?"

  "I don't want to get into it. It's...complicated."

  "Why don't you try again? Go to her house and tell her you want to talk."

  "I've already done that. If I go there, she'll slam the door in my face."

  "Try again. You know how many times I had doors slammed in my face when I was trying to sell my lawn service to people?" He chuckles. "It didn't stop me. I just kept going back. I went to this one house at least ten times. The man at the door was so impressed I hadn't given up that he hired me."

  "Who was it? Do I know him?"

  "Mr. Morton."

  "The old guy? The one who died last year?"

  "Yes. He was one of my best customers, but I never would've got his business if I gave up after one try."

  "I've tried more than once with Charlotte."

  "Keep trying. The Quinns never give up."

  "I'll think about it."

  "Go talk to her right now. We can have dinner some other time."

  "Now? I'm not ready. She's probably not even home."

  "This isn't a choice," he says, sternly, holding my shoulders. "I'm ordering you to do this."

  "And you know I won't listen."

  He steps back, smiling. "You're right, but I still want you to do it. The longer you put it off, the harder it gets. Just go over there and see if she'll listen to whatever you have to say. If she tells you to leave, come back here and we'll go to dinner."

  I take a moment to think about it. I don't want to go over there, but I know I should. My dad is right. It'll only get harder the longer this goes on.

  "Okay, I'll go," I say with a sigh.

  "That's my girl. I'm going to go clean up. Text me if you're staying there so I'll know I'm on my own for dinner."

  "Where's Susan
tonight?"

  "She's working on the hit-and-run case. I'll see her tomorrow." He goes to his room.

  Why is Susan working on the case tonight? Did something happen? Did she get new evidence? What if the texter sent the video to the cops? If he did, would he tell the guys before he sent it?

  Now that I'm not talking to Briggs, I don't know what's going on. I'm guessing the guys got another text, and I think it had something to do with why Briggs was having lunch with Oliver today. There's no way Briggs would do that unless he was forced to, which means the text told him to. But Finn and Parker didn't do it. They sat with each other at their usual table. The person texting isn't going to like that Finn and Parker aren't doing what they're told. What if today was their last chance, and when they didn't do what he said, the texter decided to send the video to the cops? I want to call Briggs and ask him what's going on, but I can't. I thought he'd keep me updated, despite us no longer being friends, but I haven't heard a word from him since we met behind the bleachers, other than when we're forced to talk during lab.

  On the way to Charlotte's house, I notice my chest tightening up and feel knots forming in my stomach. I shouldn't be nervous to talk to my best friend, but I am because I'm afraid she'll tell me to go away. We've never had a fight like this and I'm worried it might end our friendship for good, or maybe it's already ended. She hasn't spoken to me since the day she found me with Briggs. Every day I call her, text her, try to talk to her in the hall or sit with her at lunch, and all I get in response is her ignoring me or walking away. I don't know why now would be any different. I'm sure I'll ring the bell, she'll check the cameras and see it's me, and not answer the door.

  I'm feeling sick as I walk up to her house. If by some miracle she actually opens the door, I don't know what I'll say to her. I should've thought about that before coming over here. I've already tried to explain to her how I ended up with Briggs, but she wouldn't listen so I'm not sure what else to say.

  I ring the doorbell and wait, trying to calm my nerves by focusing on all the flowers lining the front porch. Charlotte's mom hired a gardener who found her all these rare flower varieties to put in pots on the porch as well as in the gardens out back.

  "Ella, what a nice surprise."

  My eyes dart back to the door and I see Charlotte's mom standing there, wearing a black dress and pearls, her dark hair pulled up in a sleek bun.

  "Hi, Mrs. Birch. Are you going somewhere?"

  "Yes. We have a function to attend tonight. I assume you're here to see Charlotte?"

  "I am, but I didn't know she had something going on. I can stop by some other time."

  "Charlotte's not going. She's up in her room. Come inside. I'll tell her you're here."

  Her mom's acting like Charlotte and I are still friends. Charlotte must not have told her what's going on.

  I go inside the massive house. It's as big as Briggs' house but feels more like a home with warm colors on the walls, rugs covering the tile floor, and framed photos everywhere.

  "I'll just wait here," I say, standing in the living room.

  "Why don't you come upstairs with me?" she says, motioning me to follow her.

  "I think you might want to tell her I'm here before I go up there."

  She walks back to me, setting her hand on my shoulder. "I know you two had some kind of disagreement, but you just need to talk it out. Charlotte can be stubborn when she's been hurt, but she'll come around."

  "I'm not sure that she will. She won't even talk to me at school."

  "Really?" Her mom frowns. "That doesn't sound like Charlotte. What exactly happened between you two?"

  "I'd rather not say."

  She nods. "I understand. Come upstairs. Let's get this worked out. It's gone on long enough."

  "Mrs. Birch, I really think you should talk to her first. She's not going to—"

  "Ella, please. Just come upstairs."

  We go upstairs, stopping just outside Charlotte's room.

  Charlotte's mom knocks on the door. "Charlotte, there's someone here to see you."

  "I'm busy," she yells back.

  Her mom opens the door. "You're not too busy for your best friend."

  "Ella's here? Mom, I told you not to—"

  "Charlotte, I don't want to hear it," her mom says, going in her room. "This has gone on long enough. You're going to talk this out with her and figure out a way to be friends again."

  I didn't think her mom would take my side like this. For all the years I've been friends with Charlotte, I wasn't even sure her mom liked me. She's never been very friendly to me when I've come over to see Charlotte, but maybe that's just her personality. She always seems really serious.

  "Ella?" I hear Charlotte's mom say.

  "Yeah?" I say from the hall.

  "Get in here."

  I walk in Charlotte's room. She's on her bed with headphones around her neck.

  "Hi, Charlotte," I say.

  She glances at me, then looks away.

  "Charlotte!" her mother scolds. "Be polite."

  "Hello, Ella," she says, not looking at me.

  Her mother sighs. "Charlotte Annabelle Birch, if you do not stop this stubborn behavior and talk to your friend, you will not be going out with that boy this weekend."

  Charlotte gasps. "Mom, you can't do that! He already got the concert tickets!"

  "Then he'll have to take someone else." She puts her hands on her hips. "What's it going to be?"

  Charlotte finally looks at me. "You want to sit down?"

  I glance at her mom, then back at Charlotte. "Sure."

  There's a small, pink sofa on the side of her room. I go over to it and sit down.

  "I need to get going," her mom says, heading to the door. "Have a good night!"

  She shuts the door behind her.

  Charlotte takes her headphones off and gets up from her bed, going over to the mirror and letting down her hair. "I got it cut." She shakes her hair out. "You like it?"

  "Yeah." I get up and walk over to her as she looks in the mirror. Her hair looks the same, but at least it's something to talk about, something that won't cause a fight. I don't want to fight with her, but I feel like anything I say will make her angry.

  "I'm thinking of getting highlights," she says, "so it's not so dark."

  "You should do it," I tell her. "If you don't like it, you can always change it back."

  "I guess." She stares at herself in the mirror. "But what if it doesn't work? What if I try to change it back to the original color and it isn't the same? Sometimes you can't undo stuff, you know?"

  I get the feeling we're no longer talking about hair color.

  "Is that what this is about?" I ask. "You think we can't go back to how things were because of what happened?"

  She turns to me. "I trusted you, Ella. I confided in you. And you lied to me. How can we go back to being friends after that?"

  "Charlotte, I'm sorry. I'll say it a million times if I have to, but it's not going to make a difference if you've already decided we can't be friends." I pause. "Will you even consider being friends with me again, or is your mind made up?"

  Chapter Five

  Ella

  Charlotte walks back to her bed and sits down. "I want to be friends, but only if you can be honest with me. I won't be friends with someone who lies and thinks she has to hide stuff from me."

  I go over to her. "What would've happened if I'd told you?"

  She looks down. "I probably wouldn't talk to you."

  "So we'd be at the same place we're at now. I know you're mad that I lied, but I didn't know how to tell you. And it all happened so fast. One day I hated Briggs and then I found myself liking him."

  "Why?" She looks at me as I sit beside her. "What changed?"

  I wish I could tell her the truth. I don't like lying to her, and I never have until just recently when I was forced to keep this secret about the hit-and-run, which led to the secret about Briggs and me.

  "We started spending ti
me together," I say. "We had to meet to do our Chem assignments, and I don't know what happened, but Briggs became someone totally different. He wasn't the guy we know from school. He was actually nice to me. And it didn't seem like an act. It seemed like he had this whole other side that he doesn't like people to see. That's the guy I fell for, and the more time we spent together, the more I liked him."

  "How did you end up...you know..."

  "Kissing him?" I say, not wanting to bring up what she saw behind the bleachers.

  "That. And other stuff."

  "The first time Briggs kissed me, it wasn't real. It was just a way to make this guy go away. Remember that guy I went out with who wouldn't take no for an answer?"

  "Yeah. What about him?"

  "Briggs and I went out to eat and talk about our assignment, and when we were leaving, I saw that guy in the parking lot. He came over to talk to me and Briggs pretended to be my boyfriend to make him go away."

  "Briggs actually said he was your boyfriend?"

  "Yeah, I know, it's totally unlike him, right? But he did it to protect me. I told him I wanted the guy to leave me alone, and Briggs made sure that he would." I smile. "He put his arm around me and made it seem like we were dating. Then he kissed me. It was all for show, but...I liked it. A lot."

  "I need details," Charlotte says in an urgent tone. "What's it like to kiss Briggs Chadwick?"

  "I don't think I should tell you. It'll just make you hate me more."

  "I don't hate you," she says with a sigh. "I'm just jealous. I wanted it to be me."

  "I'm sorry, Charlotte. I really am."

  She shrugs. "I just have to get over it. He obviously doesn't like me that way. He probably only invited me to that party to get to you."

  "I don't think so. I'm telling you, this wasn't planned. That kiss in the parking lot started something between us. We both felt it, even though we pretended it was nothing."

  "How'd you end up kissing for real?"

  "You sure you want to hear this? I feel like it's just going to make you feel worse."

  "Just tell me. If it gets to be too much, I'll tell you to stop."

  I give her just enough of the story to satisfy her curiosity without going into too much detail. She doesn't ask questions, but instead just listens while I talk, seeming captivated by my every word. I think she's living out her fantasy of being with Briggs vicariously through me. She's going to be really disappointed when she finds out Briggs and I are over.