Ruthless: Black Mountain Academy

by Mila Crawford

  Her warm gray eyes haunted me with defiant intrigue, her words shaking me to my very core. No one had done that before, at least not in a very long time. She made me feel uncomfortable, raw, and worst of all, she made me feel like I was out of control.

  It was unfortunate for her that she was the first person that was able to make me feel anything in the last eight years.

  “I’m always up for a house party, why not?” I tipped the ridiculous crystal water glass to my lips and took a sip. “I like the people-watching.” At my words, my mother finally looked up from her plate, finally looking present and interested. “Don’t worry, Monica, I don’t like the drugs as much as my mother does,” I spat, my eyes beaming directly in her direction.

  I knew my comment wasn’t completely fair but it wasn’t a lie. I also regretted it as soon as I said it because technically my mother had been clean for six years. I should have had more forgiveness in my heart and all that shit, but my heart was as black as night. Monica may be as nice as everyone thought she was, but she was also completely void of contributing anything of real substance. She was too busy burying her head, maybe too scared of facing off against my father and rocking her very comfortable boat. My mother was a good person, everyone liked her and respected her, but she was far from the perfect mother.

  “Kyler. Get bent!” Tamlin yelled from across the large table. “You really need to sort your shit, you can’t just keep being so hurtful to people.” The truth of her words cut like jagged glass.

  “Well, I’ll see you at the party.” I stood, needing to get away from the table as quickly as I could. Seeing my mother watch me with those vacant, sad eyes was haunting. For a time she was there, but when I needed her most, she wasn’t. I still had a hard time getting beyond it.

  I probably never would.

  9

  “Those who find ugly meanings in beautiful things are corrupt without being charming. This is a fault. Those who find beautiful meanings in beautiful things are the cultivated. For these there is hope. They are the elect to whom beautiful things mean only Beauty. There is no such thing as a moral or an immoral book. Books are well written, or badly written. That is all.” ― Oscar Wilde, The Picture of Dorian Gray

  Madison

  “You look great, stop fidgeting.” Tamlin watched me with an amused smile on her face. It was the tenth time I was smoothing my hair and touching the loose beach waves she’d crimped. When Tamlin finished with my makeover, I was speechless, staring in the mirror, stunned at the massive transformation. I was so used to walking around in ponytails, jeans and t-shirts, now I was in fitted black pants and a glittery tank top that left very little to the imagination. She also tried to get me to wear stilettos but her feet were two sizes too small, so on my feet instead were my usual chucks.

  “I told you that the shoes were off.” Tamlin pointed at my shoes and giggled. I wasn’t sure why, but her comment made me regret my decision to turn down a pair of Monica’s shoes. I was never the type of girl that felt self-conscious or worried about my appearance, but this world was so different from what I was used to, I couldn’t help feeling that here what I looked like actually mattered.

  “It’ll be fine. You look smokin’ hot.” She grabbed my hand and ushered me into the giant brick mansion, the glossy black doors flanked with stately pillars wrapped in ivy. As we entered, a loud engine rumbled down the street, and the sound of a bunch of girls shrieking as if they spotted a rockstar deafened our ears.

  I turned around to see Kyler removing his helmet as he sat atop a sleek Harley. He was wearing a white t-shirt that highlighted all of his tattoos, making them glow vibrantly under the streetlight. The academy girls stumbled to him in their designer heels, each trying desperately to get him to look their way. He didn’t pay them any attention though, pushing past the pack as if they were pesky flies there simply to irritate him.

  “Why do all those girls want to be around him?” I asked Tamlin. “He treats everyone like garbage.” As soon as I finished my sentence, I regretted it. Sure, Kyler was a complete jerk, but he was still Tamlin’s brother and for some insane reason she seemed to see good in him.

  “It’s the tattoos and piercings,” she said, shrugging her shoulders, tugging at my arm and pulling me away. I knew that the tattoos and piercings were a draw--all the girls in my high school loved a bad boy--but there was something else about Kyler. Something living beneath all that moody darkness that piqued my interest.

  “He must have a lot of girlfriends,” I commented under my breath, not really intending for anyone to hear me.

  “Kyler?” Tamlin said with a scoff. “You’ve been around him--Kyler doesn’t really date, at least he’s never brought anyone around. He’s always been a loner, a popular one, but a loner nonetheless.” Tamlin’s comment shocked me a little, and pleased me even more. There was something about Kyler that drew me in, even when he’d been nothing but unkind to me. Maybe it was those tattoos, the way they twisted and danced like a snake wrapped around his defined forearms before the dark ink licked up the curve of his bicep and disappeared under his t-shirt.

  On the other hand, maybe it was the piercing sadness in his rich, blue eyes, or the way he made the hairs at the back of my neck stand to attention whenever his gaze caught mine. No matter what it was, it seemed to pull me to him no matter how hard I tried to push away.

  I abandoned my thoughts of Kyler and followed Tamlin into the house. Once we were inside, we were flooded by a pool of bodies, mindlessly wandering in a drunken, drug-induced abyss. It was a den of anarchy and disorder, chaos and the smell of weed clinging to every corner, so out of place in such a grand estate. Girls danced all around us, some on tables, some on couches, by the stairs couples kissed passionately, as if they were alone in the world. In one dark corner, two people were actually having sex; I looked away from them as quickly as I could, trying to avoid any more awkwardness. It felt like I’d just walked into the Twilight Zone. This was something I never thought I’d find myself doing in a million years.

  “What’s your poison?” Tamlin asked as she started to rummage through different bottles of liquor on the island.

  “Um, I don’t really drink,” I murmured, as I looked at the crowd of people bustling around us, jostling for the alcoholic beverages. “Who lives here?”

  Tamlin shrugged, helping herself to a bottle of vodka. “See the guy on the couch?” She gestured to the handsome guy being straddled by a girl on what looked like a luxury velvet settee. I nodded, turning away as he groped under her shirt. “That’s Michael Stone. His dad’s a legislator or something like that. He spends all his time in the capitol and leaves him alone in this giant ass house, and you know how it goes,” she tipped a double shot of vodka to her lips with a smile, “when the cat’s away, the mouse will…” She cast her eyes around the room, the level of excitement at all the debauchery unfolding around us climbing in her eyes.

  “Play?” I finished her sentence.

  “I was gonna say lose their virginity on a beer-stained couch somewhere, but you summed it up pretty well too.” I had to control my laugh at Tamlin’s outrageous humor. She was unexpected, and I liked that.

  “Would you mind driving us home? I mean, I’m here to party, and since you don’t drink...?” Tamlin shot me a big grin.

  “I don’t mind,” I replied, as I backed away from the bodies crashing in on me from every direction.

  Tamlin raised her shot glass in a toast, then the way she chugged it back you’d think that she was on the brink of dehydration in the desert, not really sure when she would see water again. I don’t know why that surprised me, maybe because she didn’t come off as some sort of party girl. Then again, I had no idea why I’d assumed that. People, really, never were what they seemed.

  This particular crowd of people made me feel like I was drowning in the middle of the ocean; it was becoming so crowded that I actually lost sight of Tamlin, which caused panic to rush my system.

  “Maddy!” Tamlin poppe
d up behind the shoulder of a dude with the body of a linebacker, she pushed her way around him before latching onto my hand. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

  She moved us effortlessly in the crowd, finding the nearest sofa. Tamlin’s eyes traveled the noisy room a moment before she shrugged and sat down. I frowned, wiping at invisible germs on my pants. I didn’t realize I’d need to be worried about catching an STD from tonight’s festivities, but here we were, all feet in the deep end.

  “Don’t worry about it, those pants are out of season and don’t fit me anyway,” she said, as if reading my mind. I smiled and took a seat in the corner that looked the cleanest, which wasn’t saying much. “A little bodily fluid never hurt anyone, anyway.”

  I could barely contain my cringe.

  “You clean up well, little mouse,” a voice whispered right at my ear then, causing me to jump, forcing my shoulder into a girl and making her dump her drink on both of us. She looked at me in clear disgust, and if she was able to I’m sure she would have burned me alive with the fire in her eyes.

  “Watch where you’re going, bitch.” She spat her venom.

  “I’m so sorry.” I stumbled back, trying to avoid making eye contact with her. She stepped towards me until I fumbled back on the sofa and fell flat on my ass, and on a wet spot to add insult to injury.

  The girl leaned forward, seething in front of my face. “You aren’t sorry yet, but you will be.”

  “Get the fuck away from her, Katie,” Kyler’s voice boomed, making the crowd around us stop and take notice. He stepped in front of me, forcing the girl to step back. Her eyes rounded and her mouth formed a straight line. The look of pure shock on her face only mirrored my own. I would have never expected Kyler to put himself out for anyone, especially me.

  “You know her, Ky?” she asked, straightening her face and forcing her voice to sound sweet; too sweet. She started to move her hands along the bottom hem of his t-shirt. I don’t know why that bothered me, but it did. Until Kyler slapped her hand away.

  “Don’t fucking touch me, Katie. You also better stay the fuck away from Maddy,” he spat. Katie glared at me, and if I wasn’t a little intimidated by her before, now I was completely frightened.

  “Don’t fuckin’ look at her.” Kyler said, moving the girl’s gaze not so gently off of me. “You don’t talk to her, you don’t look at her. Fuck, if you even see her in the same space as you, your ass will make yourself scarce.” He waited for Katie to answer, and when she didn’t he quickly added, “Katie, you know what I am capable of. Do you really want me to unleash that shit on you?” he asked, coldly. The girl shook her head no. “Good. Now that we’re understood, get lost.”

  Katie ran off, desperately pushing her way through the crowd circled around us.

  “Show’s over,” Kyler said, lifting a cup to the crowd before drinking. “Party on, assholes.”

  10

  “Terror made me cruel . . .” ― Emily Bronte, Wuthering Heights

  Kyler

  I watched as Katie walked away, flipping her hair in the air as if she was queen bee. One thing about Katie, aside from her being a bitch, she was also a smart girl who knew that when it comes to going toe to toe with me, she was completely out matched.

  I turned to my sister and the little mouse huddled together on the couch, Madison physically shaking. I was a little disappointed that a girl like Katie was able to rattle her. Maybe she wasn’t as strong as I’d thought she was. But then again, most people aren’t what you think they are.

  “Thank you,” Madison said, those two little words were so soft that I wasn’t even sure if she’d really spoken them.

  “Don’t mention it,” I said, picking up my drink and taking another sip. “I just happen to hate her more than I hate you.”

  “What’s wrong with you?” she asked, her voice changing to an octave much louder than it was just a moment ago. I played it off as if her question was irrelevant and didn’t answer immediately. I looked straight into her eyes, making sure that I stared at her intently, taking another sip of my drink just to draw out the tension.

  “Nothing is wrong with me, little mouse, what’s wrong with you?” I asked, coldly.

  “You did something kind, and I thanked you. The correct response would have been don’t mention it. Period. You didn’t need to add the extra crap. You might be used to people taking your shit and running off crying like that bimbo over there, But I’m not one of those bimbos, my parents taught me to never let anyone push me around.” Her stare stood up to my own, her look had a fire building behind it. She slowly got up off the disgusting couch and walked over, covering the limited space between us. “Especially you.”

  She jutted her finger forcefully into my chest. Her touch was confusing; it felt like silk tangled in razor-sharp thorns. I didn’t want her touch, but I hated myself for craving it, too. In that moment I realized that this game between the little mouse and me was bigger than I could’ve dreamed.

  From my peripheral vision I could see my sister’s face, her mouth opening and closing like a suffocating fish. I grabbed the little mouse’s hand, gently bringing it back to her side and dropping it.

  “Don’t. Ever. Touch. Me. Again,” I said, coldly and slowly, making sure that my point drove home like an arrow. I wasn’t sure if it was my voice that shook her or the steely look in my eyes, but the little mouse broke down right there before me.

  I couldn’t look at her; I removed my gaze from her shaking form, not even able to stand the sad look in her eyes. I hated myself in that moment, not for the usual reason, but because my hate stemmed from the fact that I’d finally hurt this girl, when she’d done nothing except have the misfortune to be put into my path.

  I knew none of this really mattered anyway; she was better off hating me, thinking I was an asshole. Nothing good would come from me showing her kindness, yet knowing that didn’t make me want to be noble. I wanted this girl around, I wanted to forget the world and get lost in her eyes.

  “What’s wrong with you?” She sucked in a sharp breath of air, her voice a lullaby to my ears, calming in a world full of noise. For the first time, I had the urge to tell her I was sorry.

  But I refused to let the little mouse under my skin any more than she already was.

  “Nothing. I’m perfect. I’m rich, smart and good-looking. Was that question supposed to be, what’s wrong with you?” I asked, looking calmly back at her. I wanted her to yell at me, call me any name she could think of. I wanted her anger, but instead I got her tears. This time they weren’t slow and contained though, this time Madison cried like her heart was breaking and finally I felt like complete shit.

  The worst part was, she didn’t even run. She stood there, challenging me, even as the tears thundered down her face, violent and uncontrollable.

  “You’re right. You are rich, you are smart, but you are so hateful the ugly can’t help but bleed through.” She turned and disappeared into the kitchen.

  “Go make sure she doesn’t get into trouble.” I barked at my sister. Tamlin stood and gave me a look of vile disgust. “Please,” I added as an afterthought.

  With that, Tamlin chased off after Madison.

  I grabbed my cup and sat down on the couch, closing my eyes and letting my head hang back. I pinched the bridge of my nose, trying desperately to forget the sadness in her eyes and the tears that had rolled down her face because of me. I’d never cared about how my reactions would affect other people, but in that moment, I cared.

  It mattered to me that I’d hurt Madison, that I’d managed to break her spirit. I smiled to myself, thinking if she knew what my thoughts were right now, she’d laugh and tell me not to think so highly of myself--that I really wasn’t worth anything to her. But I wanted to be, I wanted to be worth something. I wanted to be somebody to Madison.

  Two hours.

  It’d been two hours since my altercation with Katie and Madison, and I still didn’t want to move. I wanted to sit right there in the spot wh
ere she’d been, thinking in some ridiculous way that it would make me feel some sort of connection with her. That she would feel my regret and absolve me through the airwaves.

  That was the thing about broken, fucked up people--they tried to get connection wherever they could get it, but because it was something intangible to them they became...well, I became a miserable son of a bitch.

  The irony of all of this was that if I wanted I could get any girl I cared to, but the only girl I’d ever really wanted now hated me and it was my own fault. I knew I should’ve gone to find Madison, to tell her that I was sorry, pull out some sort of bullshit lines that girls like. I could shower her with the flowers and romance crap but the truth of the matter was that I liked her too much to pull that garbage on her. I wanted to actually know her and have her know me.

  “Kyler, Kyler, come quick!” Madison came screaming towards me. I jumped off the couch immediately, glancing up and down to make sure she was okay. If someone hurt her, I would kill that person.

  “Maddy? What’s wrong? What’s the matter?”

  She grabbed onto my arms, something that normally would turn me away. I hated being touched by anyone. But my concern for Maddy made me forget my own neurosis for more than a second.

  “It’s Tamlin. She’s in one of the rooms upstairs and she’s completely passed out. She’s half-naked and I don’t know what’s going on. I kept smacking her face and she’s not waking up. I called her name, shaking her the whole time. She’s just not getting up. Kyler, I don’t know what to do. I’m really scared.”