Ryland Academy Rules: A High School Bully Romance Box Set

by Mya West

  I look through several pages of pictures and articles about him. The man had done some good in his community, that’s for sure. One example was a large donation that he made to a hospital to build a children’s cancer ward.

  I wondered what I would be like if I had so much money. The obvious answer is to travel the world, and buy a bunch of unnecessary shit, but then I would hope to be like Mr. Cain.

  His charity work didn’t go with the oil tycoon persona he had with his business life. He seemed like a caring man. I was eager to meet him.

  Then I found an article that made my jaw drop. “Billionaire businessman’s wife dead in a motor vehicle accident.” Another paid subscription magazine that prevented me from reading more besides the title. If I’d had a dollar left in my pocket, I would have paid to read it.

  The next article I opened had my jaw drop again, but this time for a different reason. “Lance Cain, son of billionaire Arthur Cain, arrested for DUI.” It wasn’t so much the title of the article. I have heard the stereotype that rich people can raise shit kids who think they can get away with anything. The picture of Lance Cain blew me away. I don’t think I had ever seen someone my age that was so- sexy. I read some of the article, shaking my head at how aggressively careless this Lance Cain was. He was caught driving fifty miles over the speed limit on a highway, with a female passenger who wasn’t named.

  The article even had his mug shot in it from when he was arrested. His father was good looking for his age, but I imagined if you put Arthur Cain in a time machine he would look just like his son. Lance Cain wore dishevelled fancy clothes and a shit-eating grin in the mug shot, which turned me off immediately. Another rich kid who has no clue what it’s like to be in the real world. His dad probably somehow got him off any charges or fines.

  I looked at the date of the article and realized it was somewhat close to the one that talked about Arthur Cain’s wife being killed in a car accident. I immediately felt shame for thinking so negatively. His mom had just passed away, was he not allowed some compassion when he did something stupid right after?

  Here I was, both of my parents recently dead, wanting to get away from my life as soon as possible, and I’m judging Lance Cain? If it weren’t for Ted Silvers’ random knock on my door this morning, I probably could have done something worse than Lance Cain could ever think of.

  I try to calm myself, put my cell away and rest on the bed. I also try to not think about the last time the bed sheets were cleaned. At some point I manage to finally slip away into sleep, with a smile on my face.

  ∞∞∞

  Several loud knocks at my motel door wake me. I almost jump out of bed, and quickly put a large sweater on. I look at the time on a side table clock. It’s already nine in the morning. I curse under my breath. I was told a driver would pick me up promptly at nine. I had a wake-up call with the motel desk clerk arranged for seven thirty to make sure I would be ready. So much for customer service.

  I walk to the curtains near the front door and open them slightly. I see a tall man, wearing a navy blue sport jacket and a white button-up shirt on. His fixes his sunglasses, and stares at his leather gloves with a look of disdain. He looks like he is in his thirties, and some sort of businessman. He notices me and smiles. I wave and give him a signal suggesting I need a few moments to get ready. He nods his head.

  I have never gotten ready so fast in my life. I throw on some jeans and a white tank top, putting my hair in a ponytail and then open the door.

  The man looks at me oddly and raises his hand. “You must be Noelle Maven.”

  I smile and shake his hand. I was taken aback by his grip. “Yes, but please call me Elle. Nobody calls me Noelle.”

  The man nods his head. “I’m Thomas Winters. I’ll be driving you to Mr. Cain’s residence today. Do you need any more time to get ready?”

  I wave my head. “All ready.”

  “I can help you with your bags.” He says, pointing at my duffle bag on the floor beside the door.

  “That’s actually everything.”

  He smiles at me again. “You pack light. Nice.”

  The driver throws my duffle bag in the trunk of a black Escalade and removes his leather gloves. I have never seen an Escalade in person before, and it’s a pretty hot SUV. It’s not your everyday family vehicle. It looks like it would cost three times the amount of my home, when it wasn’t burnt to the ground.

  The thought reminds me of my parents. I sigh heavily. I ask the driver if we could make one stop before we leave town and give him my home address. I sit in the back of the Escalade. It has tinted windows and a beautiful white leather interior. A tinted window blocks the driver’s view from me. I already feel like a queen.

  A few rock glasses are arranged in front of a decanter of what looks like whiskey. I wonder how many important business meetings Arthur Cain went to in this car while downing a whiskey neat. A part of me wants to pour a drink just to get an idea of what it would be like for a moment to be him.

  I look out the dark windows and smile at the dirty streets that we pass by. A murder took place on one of the streets we passed last year. We pass a playground that looks run down and broken. A swing is missing, and the slide looks like it would cave if you tried to use it.

  This could be the last time I see some of these shitty streets. The thought makes me smile. The streets start to become less and less dirty as we make our way through the downtown core. In a wink it seems like you can go from guys in suits buying lattes to guys in jogging pants buying smack.

  I look ahead and notice Candice walking down the street. She’s still wearing her... business attire, attracting some of the latte drinking businessmen as she walks by. She must be ending a late night of work and going home. Part of me wants to have the driver honk the horn or something. I remember what Candice said the day before.

  I decide right there that she’s right. Don’t look back. Only look forward.

  I look around for a button to lower the window between me and the driver but can’t for the life of me figure out where it is. I always see in the movies there’s a way to talk to the driver guy but now that it’s me, I have no clue what I’m frigging doing. I lean over and knock on the glass between us.

  The driver lowers the window. “Can I help you Elle?”

  “Yes, sorry for bothering you Mr. Winters, but-”

  “Call me Thomas, please.”

  I try not to be taken aback by a grown man asking me to call him Thomas instead of Tom, or something less boyish. “Sorry, Thomas, can we not go to the address I gave you before? I’d like to go straight to Arthur Cain’s home please.”

  Chapter 5

  It doesn’t take long to get to the town of Ryland. Unlike the city where you could go from a ghetto to a business sector, out here, the houses just get bigger and bigger, with the distance between them getting longer as we drive. I wonder if rich people consider the small homes on the blocks as ghetto.

  Suddenly it feels like there are no homes in sight, as if we’re back in some county full of vacant land, until the driver turns down a long-paved road. After a few moments we pass through an open gate. Some distance ahead I spot a large brick home. The large trees on both sides of the paved road make the ginormous home look somehow tiny. That is until the leafy landscaping ends and all that’s left is the mansion in front of us. It looks like the size of my high school in the city, but much, much nicer. The paved road circles around a large marble fountain. The fountain shoots water up and around marble statues of half naked women wearing crowns.

  The Escalade stops in front of the front entrance, and Thomas gets out and opens my door. I take a few steps out, and feel like I’m in a different world, one where I don’t belong. I take a few steps forward and am reluctant to keep moving. I try to imagine how I look right now. Jeans and a white tank top, really? I didn’t exactly have nice clothes to wear that weren’t destroyed by the fire, but I should have managed to find something better to meet a man like Arthur Cain.r />
  I should have just asked Candice for some of her clothes. I was worried all she would have were clothes that yell fuck me. Not exactly a great first impression. Not that my skimpy white tank top gives a less bad first impression.

  It was all the stupid motel clerk’s fault for not waking me.

  Thomas walks up to me with my duffle bag, waiting for me to move. I look at him as if I have no clue what I’m supposed to do next. How do you walk again?

  “Mr. Cain is waiting for you inside.” Thomas says, waving me towards the front door. “I’ll bring your belongings to the guest house.” Before I can say a word, the driver turns and moves in an entirely different direction, leaving me alone.

  I walk up to the large oak door of the mansion. I don’t see a doorbell. I look for one of those fancy door banger things but there’s nothing. I knock on the door lightly. The door is solid and feels like nobody would be able to hear me inside. I still wait a minute or so before knocking louder.

  Nothing.

  I almost feel like I need to say a secret word for the door to open magically before me. Ala-kazoo?

  A noise comes through a tinted globe on the door frame, startling me. “Please come inside.” The woman’s voice says.

  I turn the knob and open the door. The architecture of the home almost takes my breath away immediately. The floors in the foyer are white marble with a spiralling staircase leading to the top floor. A large dangling light feature illuminates the entire foyer. It strikes me that my home was almost as large as the foyer itself.

  I glance at the top of the spiralling staircase and see a man lighting a cigar. It’s Arthur Cain himself.

  He smirks at me while blowing out a large cloud of smoke. “You must be Noelle. Please join me up here.”

  “Okay!” I yell back, ashamed that my voice carries so well in this large home.

  It feels like an eternity has passed before I make it to the top of the staircase. When I do, Arthur Cain is poking at a large natural fireplace, a large cigar firmly in his mouth. A younger Asian woman is by his side. When he is done with the fire, he hands the poker to the woman, and turns to me.

  “I hope the trip here was comfortable.” He says.

  I nod my head. “I love riding in the Escalade. I liked it. I think I’ll buy one someday.”

  Arthur smiles at my comment. “I spoke to Ted Silvers before you came. I know the last few days have been hard for you Noelle, but I’m excited that you’re here.” He waves towards the Asian woman. “This is Marta. She will be working with you to make your life here more- comfortable. She will also be giving you a tour of the premises. I’m sure this all may seem too much, but while you’re with us, I want you to think of my home as yours.”

  I get ready to give Mr. Cain my thank you speech. I practiced it all night. I walk up to Arthur to shake his hand, but he grabs the poker from Marta and starts going at the fire again instead.

  Marta turns to me. “I’d love to show you around if you’re ready?”

  Arthur Cain blows a wide cloud of smoke and continues to poke the fire, seemingly uninterested in my presence now.

  I turn to Marta. “I am.”

  Marta starts to walk towards the staircase, and with Arthur Cain’s back still to me, I reluctantly follow. Midway to the stairs I turn to him again. “Mr. Cain.” He turns slightly towards me. “I just want to say- thanks. You don’t know how much this means to me.”

  He takes another poke at the fire and fully turns to me with a slight smile. “You’re welcome.”

  I follow Marta down the stairs. She asks if I want a glass of water or a bottled one for the tour, but I turn her down. She shows me the massive main kitchen, apparently there are three in the home. An older woman is stirring a pot of tomato sauce. The smell of garlic, onions and parmesan is like heaven.

  Marta waves towards the chef. “This is Anna Green. She is here for most of the day until eight in the evening.”

  Anna wipes her right hand on her apron and puts it towards me. I shake it and she smiles. “Very happy to meet you. If you ever want anything from the kitchen, and I mean anything, dial three on any phone in the guest house and its synced to the kitchen line.”

  I continue to shake her hand, amazed at this service. Although the tour had just begun, I already know the house will be incredible. The features of the house will be amazing, but right now the idea of being able to get whatever food I desire, with just a phone call, is like I’ve died and gone to heaven.

  Marta continues the tour with showing me the dining area. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that Cain has one of those long dining tables. I can only imagine how it would be eating on one end with Arthur Cain on the other.

  Marta shows me the large living room. It feels weird to me when I don’t notice a television anywhere. I imagine that’s how rich people are so wealthy. They don’t waste their time with acting like zombies in front of a tube all day. Then Marta shows me the entertainment center, which is in its own soundproof room, and I quickly change my mind. The room looks almost like a mini movie theatre. Now I’m surprised he can get anything done besides staring at the large screen all day.

  Marta leads me back to the foyer, past the spiral staircase. “Are you not going to show the upstairs?”

  Marta waves her hand at me dismissing the idea. “It’s just Mr. Cain’s office and a few bedrooms. Follow me please.”

  We head outside and in the near distance I can see a very large pool. They designed the pool to look as if it is some natural lake in the middle of nowhere. Large rocks behind the pool are formed into a mountain. Water runs through the peak of the mini mountain into the man-made lake. Marta warns me that although most of the pool is shallow, the deep ends are marked by red streaks on the sides.

  I’m in awe that I have access to the largest pool ever and it has a fucking waterfall. I have an intrusive thought of me ordering a plate of nachos from Anna Green and sitting poolside, followed by watching movies all night in the movie theatre, eating more nachos.

  Marta continues with the tour, showing me a large hot tub and tennis courts. I’m mildly sweating from just walking their property. I’m starting to wish I had taken up her offer of water now.

  Marta points into the distance, at a medium sized home. “That is the guest house, where you will be staying. You’re close to the gym as well.” She points at another medium sized building.

  We walk into the gym and it’s so massive I feel like I require a membership to have access to it. Instead, all the beautiful equipment is empty. I hear a few cheers at the back of the gym. I shouldn’t be surprised that there’s an actual boxing ring in their gym.

  Two men are sparing inside. One looks like he is of Latino descent and is doing a number on the other man with combinations to the chest and head. The man is covering his head, and suddenly pushes the Latino man back and unloads several punches at his mid section. An older man sitting on the outside of the ring is cheering him on, yelling at him to use more combinations.

  Although it’s hard to tell from his sweaty appearance and wet hair, the other fighter is most certainly Lance Cain. I knew he was handsome and could tell he had a rock-hard body underneath the fancy clothes he wore in the pictures I found online, but I’m still taken back by how hot he looks shirtless. His tanned body glistened in the light. With every punch he throws, his muscles grow larger.

  Another person on the outside of the ring hits a bell signalling the end of the round. The older man drags a chair into the ring and Lance sits on it in the corner.

  The old man, who I’m assuming is his trainer starts yelling at him again. “Don’t let this guy get into your head! You let him have the upper hand there for a bit. I don’t care how many championships he’s won, don’t lose that confidence kid, got it?” Lance nods his head.

  Now I’m super curious who the Hispanic fighter is. Is he some known professional? Did they hire some ex-champ to come and spar with Lance?

  Lance suddenly seems to notice me and Marta a
t the side of the ring. He stares at me intensely. I’m not sure how to react. His eyes stare deep into mine. I feel like I’m locked on him, unable to move, that is until he squints his eyes at me coldly. He turns away and looks at his coach, nodding his head again.

  The bell rings and the fighters move towards each other again. The Hispanic fighter throws a few punches nonchalantly, which Lance easily dodges. Lance counters with several aggressive punches to the midsection then to the head. Lance winds up a right hook that strikes the Hispanic fighter under the chin, knocking him to the ground hard.

  An older Hispanic man in the corner of the other fighter jumps into the ring waving a white towel in the air vigorously. “What the hell is this?” He exclaims with a thick accent. “This was supposed to be just a friendly sparring match.”

  Lance smiles and goes back to his corner. “Tell Pacquo when he regains consciousness to not act like a little bitch next time, and to stop dropping his left hand when he throws a punch.” Lance turns to his coach. “Pay them an extra twenty. After the doctor looks at him, get them the fuck off my property.”

  Lance grabs a white towel on the side of the ring, wiping his face. He notices me again and gives me the same cold stare. I almost feel like jumping in the ring and asking him what his fucking problem with me is?

  Marta leans closer to me. “Would you like to see the guest house?” I continue to stare at him and give a nod.

  We leave the gym, as we do, I’m tempted to look back at Lance, but don’t. Marta opens the door to the guest house and I’m again taken aback by how beautiful it is. The ranch style home has an open layout. There is a large kitchen area, dining area and living room with a flat-screen television. Marta shows me the main bedroom. I almost feel like jumping on the king-sized bed for fun but stop myself in front of Marta. The bedroom is complete with its own ensuite washroom.