by Bella King
“And?” I asked, wondering if he had an issue with her as well.
“And, she’s super cute. I don’t want her boyfriend beating me up though. He looks like he could do some serious damage. Have you seen those biceps?”
He could only be talking about Dylan. Who else in the school was as jacked as he was? Boy, did I have some news for him. “They’re not dating. Maddie is single, I believe,” I informed him.
Jonathan’s eyes widened. “Really?” He asked excitedly.
I nodded.
“How do you know?”
I took a deep breath. “I talked with Dylan this morning. I asked him the same question, actually.”
“Oh?” Jonathan said, smiling and raising his eyebrows at me.
“Ew, not like that,” I said. “I’m not into Dylan.”
Jonathan chuckled. “Don’t try to hide it. Dylan looks like he belongs in an action movie. I know you’re into that kind of thing.”
Damn, he knew me better than I knew myself. I had always had an affinity for muscular guys. A lot of women insisted that too much muscle was a turn-off, but to me, the more the merrier. I liked a man that looked like he could break me like a toothpick. I found it sexy, so sue me.
I rolled my eyes anyway, crossing my arms in a defensive manner. “He’s kind of an asshole, but he’s definitely not dating Maddie. They used to be, but not anymore.”
Jonathan seemed satisfied with my answer. “I should talk to her then, right?” He asked, looking for support.
I didn’t think Maddie was terribly likable either, but I wanted to be a good friend for Jonathan. He had always been nice to me, which was more than I could say about some people. I glanced at Dylan, who was leaving his locker and walking off to class. “Yeah, you totally should. She’ll probably be at the creek later. Bring her a drink or something,” I suggested.
“Great idea,” he said, smiling with those large teeth of his again.
I was too distracted to listen to him. I was too busy watching Dylan disappear into the crowd of students. I turned back to Jonathan only when the last bit of Dylan’s shirt disappeared from my view. “I have to get to class now,” I said.
“You and me both,” he replied, and walked off to his first class of the day.
I followed suit, walking briskly toward my classroom so that nobody else would hold me up. I didn’t want to be late. As easy as school was, I wasn’t interested in getting my grades dropped for missing too many classes. My parents seemed to think that school was more important than it actually was. I was pretty sure my own mother had never even finished high school.
All I knew now was that the weekend couldn’t come soon enough. I would still have to deal with Dylan tomorrow to get him a car, but after that I didn’t plan on talking to him anymore. He was too stressful of a guy for me. I needed someone calmer, who didn’t get violent with women for no reason.
Chapter 8
Dylan
It was hard to control my temper. Scarlet frustrated me to no end. She was so beautiful, yet so ignorant. I couldn’t stand her, but at the same time, I would have loved to fuck her brains out. The combination was killer, and if I was going to survive this year, I had to figure out how to gain the upper hand on her and get revenge. At the end of the day, that was the only thing that really mattered.
Maybe I should try to hang out at the creek after work on Saturday. People would be drinking and smoking, having a good time, and I would be able to get more information out of Scarlet, especially if I could get her alone. The only issue would be Maddie, hovering around me and bugging me the whole time. It would be nice to find a distraction for her. Maybe another guy would work.
I thought about it in class, spinning around a few scenarios in my head. The first was talking to Scarlet at the creek, getting her to have one too many drinks, and getting personal information that I could hold against her and make her life difficult. Nothing would be too evil for what her family had done to my father. Nothing.
The second option I had was to get her talking when we went to get a new car for me. She was nice to be doing this, so perhaps she would be nice enough to spill a few personal secrets that I could use against her. It was worth a shot.
The third option was a little more devious, but it would take a lot of work. I sensed that Scarlet might be attracted to me, at least from a physical perspective. I had seen her eyes staring at my muscular physique. One thing about working as a mechanic’s assistant is that you end up doing a lot of heavy lifting. It aided me in charming women, even if that wasn’t my goal.
I could try to be a little nicer to her, and eventually drive her to do some pretty wild things for me. Women were sluts like that. They would do anything once you got into their heads. Maddie was the same way. She would do anything I told her too, no matter how embarrassing, if it would mean that I would fuck her harder that night.
This was a fantasy more than an actual option, but it appealed to me more than the others because of how fantastic it would be if I was able to pull it off. I couldn’t deny that I was viciously attracted to Scarlet’s beautiful eyes and wide hips. Ever feature she had was stunning, and I wouldn’t mind getting a turn with her, as long as I was able to ruin her in the end.
I was getting hard just thinking about it. I wasn’t interested in my teacher noticing my boner, so I crossed my legs under the desk while I waited for the lesson to end. Scarlet had an effect on me like no other, and I couldn’t help it if I wanted to have sex with her. I bet a lot of other guys did.
That was enough fantasizing about Scarlet. The fact of the matter was, she was going to pay for her family’s treachery one way or another. My father didn’t have to die. Just remembering the day that I found his body at home, slumped over in a chair with blood sprayed across the wall behind him made me livid. I would never forget that day.
I was younger back then, and far more innocent. This was a month after my father lost his business, and subsequently, everything he owned. I remember that the house felt different the moment I stepped inside after school.
The lights were on, but it sounded like nobody was home, which I thought was awfully strange because my father usually worked from home. Even if he was busy, he would come out of his office to ask me how my day was. I waited for something, anything, but after ten minutes of eerie silence, I decided to peek into his office to see if he was home. Maybe he was listening to music and hadn’t heard me arrive.
I crept up to the door, where the light was one. I could see it shining underneath, making the carpet glow a pale yellow, but I thought it could have also been the sunlight coming from the window in the room. Sometimes my father would open the curtains and let the natural light in at the end of the day.
I knocked on the door first, but there was no answer. I tried the doorknob and found that it was unlocked. It was when I turned it that I felt a feeling of dread deep in my gut. I knew that something was wrong, even before I saw the blood. My body pumped adrenaline through me as my heart started to beat faster. I was scared and I didn’t even know why.
When I opened the door, I didn’t see anything unusual at first. Then, in a moment that would stain my memory for the rest of my life, I saw the crimson blood on the wall. It was a wide splatter, stretching across the white paint like someone had dipped a paintbrush in red and flicked it across the wall.
The next thing my eyes found was the blown-open head of my father. After that, I must have passed out. My brain couldn’t handle it, much less understand how this had happened. When I awoke, my first thought was that my father had been murder. My mother later told me that he had killed himself.
This was the fault of Scarlet’s family, and I would get revenge for it. My mother was never the same after that, and neither was I. Something inside me died with my father’s spirit, and it was never coming back. I was certain of one thing, and one thing only. Scarlet Verity Porter would pay for this.
“Homework is due, so hand in your worksheets at the front of the room wh
en you leave,” the teacher said from the head of the classroom, breaking me out of my tragic thoughts.
I looked up at him, then around at the students getting up to turn in their assignments. Shit, I forgot to do the homework last night. I had been so tired that I fell asleep, and this morning I was too occupied to do it either. A few more missed assignments, and my grade would drop a full letter. That wasn’t good.
I got up, shaking my head as I began walking toward the exit. This was another thing that I could blame on Scarlet, and I would. It felt better to do that than to admit that my own failures were my fault. It was those rich people. They didn’t know how much damage they really caused.
I was almost out the door when the teacher called my name sharply, causing me to halt at the doorframe. A student pushed past me as I turned around, dreading having to confront my teacher about the homework.
“Dylan, I want to speak with you,” Mr. Smith said, looking at me from over the tops of his thick lenses.
I walked up to him slowly, unsure of what to expect. I didn’t get called to talk to a teacher often, but when I did, it usually wasn’t something good. I tried to be a good student, but I wasn’t always that way. It was hard to juggle working with school.
“I noticed you didn’t turn in the assignment,” Mr. Smith said tapping a nail on the desk in front of a messy stack of papers.
“No sir, I didn’t,” I replied, making no excuses.
“Would you like to tell me why?” He asked expectantly.
“I forgot,” I said.
“Well, Dylan. I might just forget to give you a passing grade if it happens again. You’ve been pretty consistent with your forgetfulness in my class.”
Shit, he was right. It was always his class that I ended up missing the assignments for because his was the first class of the day. If I forgot to do the homework for another class at home, I would usually remember it before class and have time to complete it in the class before that.
I didn’t forget to do my homework that often, but it almost always ended up being Mr. Smith’s class that I failed to turn in the homework for.
I sighed, looking up at Mr. Smith’s wrinkled face. “I won’t forget it again.”
“You’d do well not to. I don’t want to have to hold you back a year,” he said, waving a finger at me.
I couldn’t afford that. I could barely scrape by this year as it was. Another year would leave me with no money for college. I had to do better, or I would lose everything. My world was so close to collapsing as things were now.
I looked at Mr. Smith, waiting to see if he had anything else to say. When he looked down at the papers in front of him, I took it as permission to leave. I didn’t want to be in his class, but I had to listen to him if I was to stay at this school. I didn’t pay for this just to be thrown out.
Still, I was frustrated, and the circumstances weren’t making things any better. I could blame Scarlet as much as I liked, but it didn’t take the struggle or the pain away. That remained throughout all of this and would likely stay within me even once I got through it. Some things never change.
I fished around in my pocket for the little white napkin with Scarlet’s phone number printed on it in such perfect lettering. She was too perfect sometimes, and that annoyed me. It was more difficult to hate someone who was like that, but I had to.
I looked at the numbers on the napkin, scanning them into my brain before pulling out my phone. I refused to keep her as a contact in my phone, but I had already memorized the number. I was good at that kind of thing, but having a good memory was a gift and a curse. It made getting over my father’s death a lot harder because I remembered every detail of the state that I had found him in.
I punched in Scarlet’s phone number on my glowing screen, then held up the cold phone to my eye, pressing the glass hard against the side of my head as I listened to the phone ring. Two tones in, and Scarlet picked it up.
“Hello?” She said, not knowing that it was me who had called.
“Hey, it’s Dylan,” I said.
“Oh, hey. We can actually go to the car shop tonight if you want. My father is going to cover my car tomorrow, but I’m borrowing his right now,” she said cheerfully.
I was impressed by how diligent she was about this. “Yeah, I think that will work for me. I was going to ask you if you could give me a ride home, you know, since you totaled my car,” I said, driving in the fact.
She giggled, as though I had been making a joke. I suppose she thought I was funny, but I wasn’t laughing. “Of course, that’s no problem. I had my mother leave the car in the school parking lot, so I’ll drive you in that. I’m assuming you want to stop by home before we go to the car dealership?”
I paused for a moment before answering her. I did want to go home first, but I also didn’t want her to see the trailer I lived in. It was embarrassing for me to be this poor next to a rich girl like her. “We can go to the dealership straight away,” I replied.
“Are you sure? It’s really no problem if you want to freshen up before we go.”
She was too nice. “No, that’s okay.”
“Alright. I guess I’ll meet you in the parking lot after school then,” she said.
“Yeah, I’ll see you then,” I said, hanging up the phone before she got the chance to say goodbye. I didn’t want her to think I was being friendly with her. I still needed to decide what my plan was going to be to get inside her head and expose her to the world.
I pocketed my phone, feeling strange about the whole thing. It was weird to be so against a woman who was only trying to be nice to me, but she didn’t know what I knew. Nobody did except for my family. I wouldn’t forgive that, ever.
Chapter 9
Scarlet
Dylan was a strange guy, but I couldn’t help but like him, even after what he had done to me after the crash. He was probably filled with adrenaline, and that can make you behave strangely. He seemed nice enough over the phone, and I was starting to feel bad for some of the things I had said to him this morning.
I stirred the small portion of salad around in my bowl, soaking the leaves in dressing before I ate them. It was lunchtime, but I was eager to get out of school and start enjoying the weekend. Dylan said he had to work over the weekend, but I hoped he would show up to the creek gathering anyway. It was a lot of fun, and I wanted to know him better.
I would get him a nice car this evening, and then maybe we could talk some more. I wanted to know why he was so serious all the time. I wished I could understand people better, but it wasn’t one of my strong suits. I had to settle on asking a whole heap of questions just to get enough information out of people to understand them. When I had done this to Jonathan years ago, he had thought I was crazy.
I’d rather be crazy than clueless, so I made a mental list of things I wanted to ask Dylan to see if I could get to the bottom of his strange behavior. I didn’t think he was a bad guy, but he was clearly a bit troubled, and I wanted to know why.
I lifted a fork of lettuce to my mouth.
“Scarlet,” Jonathan exclaimed, sliding down in front of me and placing his tray full of food down with excessive force.
I lowered my fork, raising an eyebrow. “Yes?”
“I did it. I talked to Maddie,” he said, banging a fist on the table excitedly.
“Well, that was quick,” I said with a chuckle.
“You were right. She totally isn’t dating Dylan, but you know what? She’s going to be at the creek tomorrow. We’re going to go and hang out there,” he said, his eyes glimmering with newfound possibilities.
I was happy for him, but my mind was too far into thinking about Dylan to care that much about what he was saying. It was nice that he had a chance with Maddie, but that wasn’t my business. I smiled at him politely. “That’s great. I’m sure you’ll charm her right into your arms,” I said.
He laughed. “God, I hope so. She’s super cute.”
I nodded, neither agreeing nor disagreein
g. It wasn’t my place to say whether a woman was cute or not, because I wasn’t especially into them. I liked men who looked like they toiled in the sun all day long, and Dylan fit that description wonderfully.
I ate the rest of my lunch as Jonathan droned on about how excited he was to have met Maddie and how much he looked forward to the weekend when he could finally have a deeper conversation with her. My mind was on the end of the day, and Dylan and my visit to the car dealership. That was more interesting to me than anything else in the near future.
The remained of the day went by slowly, and I found myself checking the large overhead clock in every classroom, counting along with the seconds as they slowly ticked by. Time must have been a relative thing, because it certainly seemed to move slower when I was waiting for something. Life was cruel like that.
Finally, after what had seemed like a lifetime, the bell rang, signaling permission for me to get the hell out of this school and to enjoy my freedom outside. I wanted to soak up the rest of the summer rays before they disappeared for the next six months, replaced with the coldness of winter.
I rushed out of class, not bothering to put anything in my locker. I had been left the car with the doors unlocked and the keys sitting happily in the driver’s seat. Nobody close to this school was out robbing cars because most everyone who went here was reasonably wealthy. It was safe to do that kind of thing, to the point where I barely thought about it.
Even though I didn’t have the best relationship with my parents, I couldn’t deny that they did a good job of looking out for me. Money doesn’t buy happiness, but I’ll be damned if it doesn’t make life a lot easier sometimes. I pulled open the door to my father’s car and hopped inside, enjoying the cool scent of leather and automatic A/C that turned on thirty minutes before I came to the car. This vehicle was even nicer than the one I had totaled this morning.
