Beautiful Dirty Rich: A Dark High School Bully Romance (Blood and Diamonds Book 1)

by L. A. Sable

  “You really don’t think you should at least tell your mom about this? Maybe she’d let you leave.”

  I can’t tell Trish about any of this. I just can’t. This is the happiest I’ve seen her in years and I won’t take that away from her, even if I have to suffer for it. I owe her some happiness, believe me. I have to take care of this myself.

  And on the slim chance I could get her to believe me, Trish would have an epic freak-out more dramatic than anything a Diamond could even dream of. I wouldn't ever be able to show my face here again. That's not the worst thing in the world, but I don't want to just roll over for these entitled assholes. And part of me just doesn’t want her to know how much trouble I’ve gotten myself into, I need to be strong enough to handle it on my own.

  “Trish and I have a complicated relationship. Just trust me when I say that I can’t tell her about any of this.” And that’s all I can really say about it, especially to someone that I only met a few days ago. For the last few years, I’ve been more of the mother than the daughter, but there are reasons for that. Good ones.

  But nothing I can share with Charlie, not when I barely know her.

  “Well then, I guess that means sticking it out,” she murmurs with a sigh as she lifts up the corner of the ruined bedspread. “And buying a new wardrobe.”

  Fuck.

  “They ruined all of my clothes.” The realization finally sinks in as my initial shock wears off. “What am I going to wear?”

  Charlie looks around, surveying the damage with a grim expression. “Nothing here is salvageable?”

  “Nope.” I hold up a button-down shirt that’s meant to be worn under my uniform jacket. Horizontal slashes across the front make it look like an animal attacked me while wearing it. “Chloe and her posse made sure of that.”

  “You can’t just ask your mom for money to buy new clothes?”

  “It doesn’t really work like that. Trish quit her job to move to Connecticut, and she feels weird asking Carter for more money than he’s already given her for me. I mean, tuition alone at Black Lake costs more than my mom used to make in a year. I can’t ask for more, at least not so soon.”

  “You need clothes to wear,” Charlie reminds me. “And Carter Bellamy is a billionaire. He probably wouldn’t even mind.”

  But I would mind. I’ve taken enough hits to my pride in the last few weeks to be able to stomach another one. I don’t want to have to call Trish and explain to her that I let a bunch of bitchy girls destroy my belongings. She can’t find out how much I’m struggling here or she’ll do something crazy about it.

  “No. Just no. If I ask Trish for money, then I’ll have to explain what happened. I am just not doing that.”

  For a second, I imagine Chloe trying to face down Trish. My mother has definitely threatened at least once in the past to fight a bitch over the last ham hock at the grocer. But no, if my mom finds out that she sent me to a monster’s den while she gallivants around Europe, she’ll feel terrible about it. I’ve spent my entire life protecting her and I’m not going to stop now.

  “So all you have left is the clothes you’re wearing right now?”

  “Unless Chloe accidentally left something intact, yes.”

  “You’re going to look really weird wearing your uniform on the weekends.”

  Because there needs to be another way for me to stand out. “It is what it is.”

  “You can borrow a few of my uniform shirts, if you want.” She surveys me for a moment, gaze lingering on my waist. “We’re about the same size, I think. They’re just from Old Navy, though. Nothing special.”

  “I love Old Navy,” I assure her, grateful at the generous gesture. “Before I got here, all of my clothes came off of a discount rack. I don’t need special. Thank you.”

  Charlie comes to sit next to me on the bed and slings her arms around my shoulder. "There are worse things than ending up Proli. Being complete social outcasts won't kill us."

  Even though she means it as a joke, her words are sobering. I’d already asked Charlie about the mystery girl once and got little information, but I’m desperate to know more. I remind myself to hit the library as soon as I can to do more research.

  No one should suffer something like that and live on in memory without a name.

  But for right now, I do the only thing I can which is to pick myself up, ignore the wreckage of my room and face whatever is coming next head on.

  Charlie watches me as I heft my bag over my shoulder, expression unreadable. “What are you going to do?”

  “No idea. But I’m not going to let these bitches make me late for class.”

  Charlie raises her eyebrows but gets up and heads for the door, picking up her own bag off of the littered floor. “Aren’t you going to clean up the mess a little?”

  “Why, so I can get a demerit for being late? That’s exactly what they want.”

  “There’s no shame in needing a little time to get yourself together.”

  If there’s one thing that I know how to do, it’s to not give up without a fight. “I don’t scare this easy.”

  I wait for her to proceed me outside and this time I make damn sure all the doors are locked.

  Chapter 9

  Even though I have to take remedial English, I'm not dreading the main class. It might seem counterintuitive but I’m actually pretty good at writing. Maybe it’s because I had to spend so much time working on it when I was a kid to treat the dyslexia, but I’ve made a virtue out of necessity. It's hard work, but I feel like I've put in the effort to actually accomplish something worthwhile.

  So even knowing that I have a vandalized room waiting for me, I’m looking forward to getting to class, if just to take my mind off of things.

  Until I get there and realize that the room is full of Diamonds.

  Asher lounges in the back on a narrow couch like an indolent king on his throne. He’s surrounded by the guys I’ve already figured out make up his entourage — Jayden Heart and the twins, Kai and Lukas. Our eyes briefly meet and his blaze with fire before a smile full of dark anticipation tips his lips.

  Chloe isn’t far away sitting with a group of girls that I vaguely recognize from the app: Maisie, Grace and Ocean. They’re all pretty in a generic way, like backup singers to Chloe’s scene-stealing diva.

  It’s like I’ve walked into a den of lions.

  Nothing terrible can happen to me in class, I assure myself. The teacher at the front, Ms. Lake I recall from my schedule, won’t let the conflict devolve into violence. And what else do I really have to fear from these assholes? They can only humiliate me if I let them.

  Now if I can only get my hands to stop shaking and unlock my knees so I’m not standing frozen in the door.

  “Let’s sit over there,” Charlie says from behind me. I let out a shaky breath as we head to the far side of the room nearest the windows. At least I have her in the class with me, it would be almost impossible to face all the Diamonds down alone.

  There are no desks, just a deliberately eclectic collection of tufted armchairs and couches. Most of the students aren’t wearing their full uniform. I see jackets and ties slung over most of the flat surfaces. It’s like a scene out of Dead Poet’s Society.

  So fucking pretentious.

  I sense the tension as we walk across the room. Even without having to look, I know that multiple sets of eyes are locked on us, like we’re the juicy gazelles at a watering hole full of predators on the savannah. I want to assure myself that I’m overreacting, but when I risk a glance up Asher is still glaring at me. The guys around him have followed his gaze to stare at us too.

  It’s going to be a long year.

  “We’ll be starting the term off with a deep dive into The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald,” Ms. Lake says as she enters the circle of chairs and lounges at the center of the room. “The reading list was sent out weeks ago so there’s no excuse not to have your copy by now.”

  Charlie shoots me a horrified glance b
ut I wave her away as I rummage in my bag. Luckily, I’d put the book in my there this morning so it hadn’t been destroyed with the rest of my belongings. I’ll have to figure out later what I'm going to do about replacing the rest of my books for class tomorrow.

  “Now, you were supposed to read the first three chapters prior to the start of term.” Ms. Lake’s expression is slightly amused as she surveys the class. “But having met most of you, I’ll assume we need to start with a refresher. Who would like to give us a brief synopsis and identify any themes they’ve noticed so far in the text?”

  Charlie’s hand shoots up in the air, her body practically vibrating with energy beside me. It makes sense that she’s a good student, that’s how she managed to get into Black Lake Prep as a scholarship student.

  Ms. Lake chooses another student and I hide a smile when I hear Charlie’s disgusted sigh. I listen with half an ear as one of Chloe’s underlings describes what she thinks are the first three chapters of the book, which sounds much more like the first fifteen minutes of the latest movie adaptation.

  And I only know that because I’ve already read the entire book. It was assigned for my English class when I was a sophomore at P.S. 119. Public school for the win. It should make things easier to not be completely behind at the very start of the semester in at least one class. In fact, my banged up copy of the book with highlights and hand-written notes squeezed into the margins is the same one that I used last year.

  But the teacher doesn’t call the girl out on the obvious discrepancies — why would you even volunteer to answer if you haven’t read the book?

  “That’s Ocean Foley,” Charlie reminds me on a murmured whisper. “She is a total birdbrain. Apparently, her parents are California hippies who own a bunch of dispensaries all up and down the coast. Something tells me that her mom did not abstain during pregnancy or all the blonde hair dye has seeped into her brain.”

  Well, that’s just sad.

  But I giggle a little too loud at the thought of a naked woman toking up over her pregnant belly as Jefferson Airplane plays in the background.

  “Did you have something to add?” The teacher glances down at the clipboard in her hand. “Ms. Murphy?”

  I catch Chloe flipping me off behind the teacher’s back as my face flames and I try to run back what was just said. “Yes, actually. I think Ocean missed the theme of moral and social decay that’s evident even from the beginning of the narrative. Ultimately, the book describes the empty promise of the American dream.”

  There’s a moment of silence as the teacher regards me in surprise. It’s enough that everyone has to be holding their breath because I can't even hear a single inhalation of air. Chloe’s stare has turned glacial, a perfect counterpoint to the fiery anger in Asher’s gaze. I guess they didn’t think a gold-digger might actually open a book every once in a while.

  “Very good,” Ms. Lake says with a genuine smile. “I’m glad to see someone completed the assignment.”

  Ocean sits down with a thump. From her expression, it’s difficult to tell if she realizes that there was an implied chastisement in the teacher’s words. Most likely not. It must be nice to be that oblivious. I almost envy her.

  But Ms. Lake isn’t done. “I want all of you to split up for small-group discussion. There should be the perfect number of students for groups of five.

  It happens so quickly that before I can even blink, the whole class is split up into groups, save for Charlie and I who are suddenly alone on our side of the room. The other students have sorted themselves in a way that probably perfectly matches their positions in the social hierarchy, while Charlie and I are just left sitting there like dumb cows.

  “Shit,” she murmurs. And then I realize that things are even worse than they first seemed.

  There are only two groups with four members.

  “No groups of two,” Ms. Lake says airily, completely unaware of the simmering conflict running just under the surface. “You’ll need to split up and join one of the groups that are short a person.”

  “I’ll go with Chloe’s group,” Charlie says as she picks up her bag. “It’s only for an hour. Just keep your mouth shut and get through it.”

  Which leaves me to join the only other group of four, the one made up of Asher and his cronies.

  I make my way across the classroom like a prisoner being walked to the execution chamber. But none of the guys act like they even notice me as I sit gingerly on the far end of the couch, as far away as I can get while ostensibly a part of the group.

  Jayden smiles at me from his position on the floor. “I can almost see up your skirt. Move down a little.”

  I ignore him and thankfully so do the other guys in the little semi-circle they’ve gathered in.

  “Who actually did the reading?” Asher asks, sounding bored. His gaze flicks over me briefly, but he doesn’t acknowledge me in any other meaningful way. “I didn’t even bring a copy of the book.”

  One of the twins, probably Lukas because he’s sitting within arms-reach of Chloe even though their backs are to each other, murmurs. “It’s an American classic, you philistine.”

  “Well, tell me all about it, you love it so much.”

  Lukas shrugs with an insolent grin. “Sorry. Forgot my copy, too.”

  Kai looks up from the phone in his hand with a frown. We’re not supposed to have phones out in class, but apparently that rule doesn’t apply to him, assuming any of the rules do. “I thought I was sharing with you.”

  “The only thing the two of you share is a single brain cell,” Asher scoffs, looking back and forth between them in disgust. “Does anybody have the actual book we’re supposed to be studying?”

  “I do.” Jayden is lounging on one of the large cushions that are spread out on the floor of the room. He rummages in the Valentino school bag at his side that I know retails for as much as some people’s cars and he just has slung carelessly on the ground. He pulls something out and tosses it at Asher’s feet. “Here it is.”

  “Seriously, dude.” It’s obvious from just a glance as Asher picks it up that this book is way thicker and a totally different color than the one we’re supposed to be using. “This is The Grapes of Wrath. We’re not covering this until next term.”

  “Oh man, I must have gotten it messed up.” Jayden shrugs like it doesn’t matter to him either way. “I think I saw the movie though, wasn’t it the one with Johnny Depp?”

  “You’re just an embarrassment, you know that.” Asher turns to me with an eyebrow raised, expression very carefully neutral. “Please tell me you brought the fucking book.”

  This is the first time he’s spoken to me in a way that’s not openly mocking or full of hostility. For a moment, I’m not even sure how to respond. So instead of saying anything, I hold up my copy of the book with a slight wave.

  “Awesome.” He turns to the board and squints to read it even though I’ve never seen him in a pair of glasses, maybe he’s wearing old contacts. “We have to pick a passage and then answer the questions about it.”

  The work gets done surprisingly quickly. For all the play at not caring, these guys seem to take their schoolwork at least somewhat seriously. Except for Jayden, who's lying completely on the floor now with an arm slung over his eyes to block out the daylight shining through the windows. I get the impression that he’s only enrolled at Black Lake so that when Ivy League drama programs court him to increase their star power, he actually has a high school diploma to show them.

  And for all that Asher can be a royal jackass, he pulls his weight in class, riding roughshod over the others so that they finish their parts. We have answers to all the board questions with enough time to spare for them to talk about their plans for the weekend which quickly devolves into a conversation about our female classmates.

  “I’m heading out on the yacht with Maisie, hoping that’ll finally be enough to get in her pants,” Jayden says with his eyes still closed, confirming pretty much everything I've assumed abou
t him. “That girl is old-fashioned. I’ve already taken her out twice now.”

  “Are you still on that quest to hit every girl in the class?” Lukas asks, voice a lazy drawl. “Better pick up the pace if you’re hoping to get it done by the end of the year.”

  “Maybe not every girl, but I’m still working on it,” Jayden replies smoothly.

  I feel his gaze on me, but make a big show of bending over the open book in my lap like I haven’t heard a word they’re saying. It’s not like I want to be a part of this conversation. But I can't help peeking at them through my lashes.

  Kai slips his phone into his pocket. When he raises his face, there’s a wide grin spread across it. “Have fun with Maisie. I assume you’re okay with my sloppy seconds.”

  Asher rolls his eyes. “Is there any girl left at this school who isn’t among your sloppy seconds? And Maisie is more like sloppy fifths at this point. Even Lukas has had a slice.”

  Lukas scoffs. “Only if we’re talking about getting to third base in the seventh grade. I haven’t even spoken to Maisie in years.”

  “That’s because he’s a one-woman man now.” Chloe turns around with a toss of raven hair over her shoulder. “Isn’t that right, baby?”

  “Sure,” Lukas drawls, voice laconic. “Plus, it saves me a boatload of money on first dates.”

  Chloe slaps him on the arm, but the movement is playful. She’s obviously one of those girls who thinks hitting guys is fun, up until the moment they try hitting her back. I force myself not to look at her, because every time that I do I have to fight the urge to hold her down and shave her head. There's no proof, but I just know she's the one who messed up my room. “Shut up, Lukas!”

  I kind of hate her just for cosigning this sexist crap.