The Replacement: A Reverse Harem Bully Romance (The Thorns of Rosewood Book 1)

by Cassie James

  I shake that thought off violently and try looking for Macie again. She assured me if she ended up making it to school that she’d be here by lunch, but I still haven’t seen her. I can’t quite see through the window now because of the crowd gathering between me and the far side of the cafeteria. My other friends haven’t shown either, so I make up my mind. I’ll just go wait around at our table in the quad and hope Macie shows.

  I’m halfway to the doors when a manicured hand catches me around the arm, blush colored nails digging into the soft flesh on my bicep. I whip around, honestly prepared to throw hands, but I settle when I see Tori standing behind me with an amused smirk. There’s something else in her eyes, though, a type of malice I’m not used to having directed at me. I square my shoulders and pull my arm from her grip with a patronizing smile of my own. It seems like Tori Pruitt forgot her place in the few months she had control of The Roses.

  “Where are you going, Piper? Our table’s this way...” She says it like I’m stupid, and I barely stop myself from rolling my eyes at her.

  She brushes her hair over her shoulder as she glances around us, and I try to remind myself to make nice with her. I’m still not certain who the guys feel the strongest sense of loyalty towards, and until I’m sure it’s me, I have to continue to play nice. But there’s a piece of me dying to reclaim Piper’s—my—spot as the Queen of the Roses, and Tori Pruitt will remember her place.

  I fix a pleasant smile on my face and indicate toward the quad. “I was going to check to see if Macie’s here yet. When I talked to her this morning, she said she’d probably be here by lunch.”

  “Oh,” she says with an eye roll. She hooks her fingers in the strap of my purse and starts to pull me back in the direction of the table in the middle of the cafeteria where The Thorns and The Roses hold court every day. “No, I don’t think she’ll be here. She was really sick this morning.”

  “Is she okay?” I ask, my concern for my friend overriding my feelings towards Tori. Regardless of everything—being accepted by my old friends, fighting for my spot back at the top of the social ladder, fighting weird bouts of attraction for boys I have no business fantasizing about—Macie is still one of my top priorities. There’s something to be said about friendships being forged in the pits of hell—and that’s definitely what my first few weeks back at Rosewood felt like. Macie was the first to accept me, and I’ll never, ever forget that.

  Tori shrugs as we make it to our table and settle in across from Brennan and Chelsey. Chelsey eyes me up and down before turning her attention to the baggie of carrot sticks lying on the table in front of her. Okay, weird... Brennan’s smile is tight and as always, it doesn’t quite meet his eyes. I chew my lip as I study him. His dark brown hair hangs in his eyes, and his olive skin is smooth over his taut muscles. If Jude is all broad muscles, and Tyler is lean and athletic, then Brennan is muscled in a different way entirely—lithe, with compact muscles packing his tall frame. I don’t doubt that if I were to reach a hand under his shirt, he’d have one hell of a set of abs under there.

  I close my eyes for a second to focus on chasing that thought away. If it weren’t completely mortifying, I would ask Stan how the hell he’d replicated hormones so damn well. There’s no other explanation for the way my imagination seems to run wild with itself when I look at my friends. In fact, maybe Stan accidentally turned my hormones up too high. Maybe I needed to suggest he turn them down a notch for me. I’m so distracted by the possibility that I almost miss what Tori says next.

  “She’s been throwing up all morning. God knows, she’s probably pregnant.”

  It’s a flippant statement, but it makes my stomach churn none-the-less. “No, that’s not like her,” I say, and Chelsey’s head snaps up in time with Tori jerking her head around to stare at me with narrowed eyes.

  “How would you know?”

  Because she’s not a slut like you. “She just doesn’t seem the type.”

  “You don’t really know her that well.”

  “She’s my friend,” I argue, and I don’t miss the snort from Brennan. Why the hell are they all being so flipping weird today? “What? She is! Macie was literally the only person to accept me when I came back this year. You guys wouldn’t come near me if your lives depended on it. I like to think that I know my friends, Tori!”

  Tori scoffs, and I turn to face her straight-on. Her blue eyes flash at me for a short second before she fixes a cheery smile on her face. “Have we not apologized for that enough yet, Piper?”

  I sigh and spin in my seat, facing forward because I can’t stand to keep looking at her. My nails pick at the tabletop, and I want to tell her no. They called me Silicunt, and I was positive there was a part of me that would never really forgive them for that slight. Who even comes up with something so disgusting? Jude, of course, I can’t help but remind myself.

  “Sorry, it was just hard, you know?” I say, not looking up. I’m not sure I can handle seeing anything other than kindness in their eyes at the moment, and I’m not entirely sure that’s what I’ll get. Weakness isn’t something we accepted in our group of friends. Words are our armor, and I really need to toughen up—fast. “I... I’m meant... Just, at my core, I’m meant to be a comfort for people, you know? Not being able to spend that time with all of you just felt very, very wrong.”

  The tap-tip-tap of nails working against the tabletop draws my attention to Tori, and I glance from under my lashes to see her staring at me with genuine curiosity shining in her eyes. Her next question shouldn’t have surprised me, but I’m not prepared. “How do you work anyway?”

  My head snaps up, and I meet her gaze head-on again. “What?” In these last weeks, as they’ve welcomed me back into the group, they haven’t asked a single question about what makes me tick. My eyes narrow, and I can’t help but wonder what she’s up to. If there’s one thing that definitely bled over from my old memories, it’s that Tori Pruitt can’t be trusted as far as you can throw her.

  “Well, it’s just...” she trails off, and her eyes flash in Brennan’s direction. I follow her line of sight to see him leaning forward slightly, a little too interested. I pull my eyes away from his reluctantly as Tori continues, “You’re a robot, right?”

  “Android,” Brennan corrects her automatically.

  “Neither, actually.” Brennan quirks a challenging eyebrow in my direction. Chelsey’s head is tilted to indicate she’s listening attentively to the conversation, even if her face is still buried in her phone. “My body is a mix of synthetic and biological parts.”

  “How?” Brennan challenges, and I wish I could just upload my file onto a computer for him to peruse on his own. He would get it—just like Macie did. They’re two of the smartest people I’ve encountered, and the only two with a good enough grasp on technology to really understand the logistics of how I work.

  “The company that made me is on the cutting edge of engineering, biometrics, and biotechnology. I don’t think I could explain it very well if I tried, but I’m built to be as much like a human as possible.”

  The tip-tapping-tip-tap of Tori’s nails drags my eyes away from Brennan, and she sighs dramatically. “I don’t get it.” Yeah, didn’t think you would, idiot.

  “I’m built to be a better human. I function in many, many ways just like you do. I mean, of course there are restrictions to just what biotech can replicate, but for the most part, I’m truly as human as the next girl.”

  “But when Jude kissed you,” Chelsey pipes in, and I hear Tori’s exasperated huff of air before I even turn to make eye-contact with her second-in-command. Jesus, they really went to shit when Tori took over, didn’t they? “He said that you... tasted like strawberry?”

  The flush that covers my face is hot and uncomfortable. I shift in my seat and twist around to run my eyes over the crowd in the cafeteria for what feels like the thousandth time. Where are the rest of our friends, anyway?

  “Uh, yeah...” I trail off and focus my attention on my nails�
��picking at the polish from the manicure I’d gotten with Mom over the weekend. I’d wanted something punchy like rose gold with a nice glittery overlay. She’d talked me into a “classy beige” instead. Boring. I tried to turn my attention back to the awkward as hell conversation. “Obviously not all things can be replicated exactly. You’ll have to forgive me if I don’t want to ask why my saliva is strawberry flavored the next time I go for a check-up.”

  Tori’s answering laugh is a fake as her nose, so I don’t bother looking up from the peeling polish I’m picking at. She quiets after a few seconds, realizing that no one was laughing with her, and I hear her huff another sigh. “Well... okay, so that’s how your body works, cool. But what about like... your brain, I guess? How does that work?”

  The silence that descends around our table is deafening, and even without looking up, I’m acutely aware that all of their eyes are on me. This, I realize, is the real question she wanted answered, and apparently they’re all interested in what I have to say. I ponder over how to answer, not entirely sure what Stan would consider proprietary information in a case like this. If my purpose is to comfort them, to make them forget all about losing their friend, shouldn’t I be allowed to set their minds at ease with how I operate?

  “I mean, I guess my brain is like a really intense, high power processor?”

  “No,” she says immediately, and the edge in her tone makes me instantly more uncomfortable. There’s something hard in her eyes. I wish I knew what exactly it is she’s looking for. “Like, you sound like Piper, and you have her memories. How does that part work?”

  “Oh! It’s kind of complicated. My personality is built from algorithms pulling information from a lot of different places.”

  “Where?” Her tone keeps growing more demanding, and I flinch over how close she’s leaning into me.

  I put as much space as I can between our bodies, and she seems to realize she’s being fucking overbearing because she leans back with a tittering laugh and a half-assed apology. I brush my hair behind my ear and pass a bewildered glance toward Brennan. If I was expecting sympathy from him, I’m sorely disappointed. The only thing I see in his gaze is the same sort of sick curiosity that Chelsey and Tori are regarding me with.

  “Part of it comes from pictures and videos my parents provided Stan. They were also able to scrub my social media pages to get a better understanding of my likes, dislikes, interests, and personalities. They also apparently sent out a questionnaire...”

  Brennan cuts me off, speaking for the first time in minutes. “Wait, they actually used that? We got that days after the...”

  He trails off, his eyes widening at the words he almost let spill from his lips. The accident. It hangs in the air around us for a few tense seconds, and I offer him a tight smile while I suss through what exactly to tell them next to help them understand that I am Piper, even if my memories are stilted at times. “Yeah, Stan uploaded them all. He said it would help me better understand my likes and dislikes.”

  “What about Piper’s memories?” Tori once again guides the conversation.

  “What about them?”

  “How do you have access to all of Piper’s memories?”

  I’m silent. I wrap my arms around my middle and lean forward, staring holes through the table. It’s a subject I’d hoped to avoid entirely. At least until all of them have welcomed me back into their ranks with unequivocal acceptance. How can I get them to believe that I’m their Piper once they know that I don’t share all of our memories together?

  “Piper,” she hisses as she pinches my arm. I jerk away from her but refuse to make eye contact. I keep my lips screwed shut tightly. “Seriously, how do you have access to Piper’s memories?”

  I chew my lip, fighting around the hard lump that’s sitting uncomfortably in my throat. The heat behind my eyes stings, and I sniffle as quietly as possible. If I cry in front of them, I’ll never hear the end of it. Piper Hawthorne is not a crybaby.

  “Piper!”

  “I don’t!” I finally say, and silence descends again. I close my eyes and continue, “I don’t have access to Piper’s memories. It’s... It’s just not possible.”

  “So you don’t actually remember anything yourself, then?”

  “You can’t access a dead person’s memories, so currently, no,” I say, and I suck in a deep lungful of air. I blink away the tears in my eyes and raise my head. I offer them all watery smiles before continuing, “But technology is crossing new bridges every day, so who knows...”

  Tori lets loose a blinding smile, and I’m so surprised by the unexpected reaction that I almost miss Brennan’s derisive snort. I turn to him with furrowed brows, but he only has eyes for Tori. The look on his face is smug as he tells her, “I fucking told you it wasn’t possible, Tori. Way to waste our fucking time with 2.0.”

  I jerk back, as if Brennan physically slapped me. He pushes himself away from the table, yanking his bag over his shoulder as he stands. “Now that your pointless little social experiment is over, Tori, you better figure out how to get rid of her.”

  “W-what?” I stammer, and I push myself away from the table as well. I reach a hand for Brennan’s arm but he jerks away from me with fire in his eyes. “Brennan what are you talking about?”

  “Are you fucking stupid, Silicunt?” he hisses, and the sting of tears rises behind my eyes again. I try my damnedest not to whimper as he sneers at me. “I told these idiots that there’s no fucking way that you’d have Piper’s memories, but no one listens to me, do they? So what do they decide to do—they decide to invite you in, to figure out if you do have Piper’s memories. Social media and questionnaires, that makes sense. Getting the memories from a dead girl? Fucking idiotic.”

  “Brennan,” I plead, but his sneer stops me short.

  “We don’t want you, 2.0. The sooner you understand that, the better.”

  Goddamn tears, I think as I furiously wipe big drops from my eyes as Brennan storms from the cafeteria. I don’t get a chance to recover before Tori is by my side, nails digging into my arm again. I try to pull away from her grip, but she digs in harder and forces me around to face her. I jerk back as she looms over me, but she never lets go of my arm.

  “You heard him, right?” she hisses at me, and I try to jerk away from her again. “You’re not our Piper, and we don’t want you.”

  “But J-Jude,” I start as eyes turn our way from all over the cafeteria. I’m tugging against her grip, but she holds on, steadfast as her eyes burn with nothing short of hatred for me. “And Tyler... th-they-they’ve been fine with me!”

  “Seriously, are you fucking stupid?” Chelsey taunts, and I feel her wrap her bony hand around my other arm, nails digging in just as painfully as Tori’s. “Tyler hates you more than the rest of us combined. No one wants to see a robot strut around pretending to be their dead girlfriend. And Jude? Please!”

  She scoffs, and I struggle between the two of them. They drag me toward the doors of the cafeteria, and all I can wonder is why the hell no one’s stepping in to stop them. My eyes are frantic as they survey the room, but no one will make eye contact with me. There’s not a single adult in sight, and I wonder now if Tyler and Jude have done something to keep them all occupied while the girls drag me from the cafeteria.

  “Get off of me!” I protest, digging my heels into the ground, trying to stop them from pulling me into the quad. “What is wrong with you guys?”

  “What’s wrong with us?” Tori jeers as she uses her hip to pop the door open to the quad. A wave of people follow us out the door, and it’s not long before we’re in the center of a tight circle. Chelsey’s hand drops from my bicep, and Tori flings me away from her with a disgusted snarl. I stumble but manage to keep my footing as the circle tightens around us. “You’re the one that comes in here every day, wearing our dead friend’s face pretending to be something you’re not!”

  “You’re a fucking robot! How could you ever actually think that we want you?” Chelsey taunts
, and I back away from her, the words cutting deep. My back connects with a set of hands, and suddenly I’m sprawling forward, hitting the ground with a grunt as pebbles dig into my knees and palms. I struggle to catch my breath as the crowd presses in on us further. I’m struggling to my feet when Tori steps forward again.

  “Do you bruise like a real girl, 2.0?” Tori asks as she wraps her hand around my arm and jerks me to my feet. Her hand tightens to a painful level, and I reach out to shove her. Humiliation or not, I’m not going down without a fight. Her nails scrape down my arm, leaving angry red welts, and I glare as I square my shoulders.

  “You don’t have to do this, Tori,” I start as I raise my arms in front of me. I’m not sure that I actually know how to fight, but a quick search will do if she decides she wants to take this all the way. “We can both just walk away.”

  “Are you kidding?” she scoffs, and she reaches a hand out to grab a fistful of my button-up top. Her nails dig into the soft flesh of my stomach as she sneers. “We’re not walking away until you understand what we’re trying to get through that circuit board of yours.”

  Chelsey’s hands dig into my shirt from the back, distracting me from Tori for one second too long. I jerk around to push at Chelsey’s hands, but I realize a second too late that I shouldn’t have ever turned my eyes away from her devious, blonde leader. I realize my mistake just in time to hear buttons popping. The sound of fabric tearing from behind isn’t even the worst of it. No, the worst is suddenly there are phones out, flashing pictures of my exposed front.

  My hands struggle to hold the gaping material closed, and hot tears run down my face as Tori shoves me away from her forcefully. My skirt flutters around my thighs as I tumble backwards, unable to brace myself for the fall because I’m focused on keeping my shirt from flying open and flashing half the student population. Tori crouches over me, snatching up a handful of my hair as she glowers down at me.