Boys of Brayshaw High

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Boys of Brayshaw High Page 5

by Meagan Brandy


  “Damn.”

  Nira nods and climbs out ahead of me.

  I look from the group of people on the lawn to the ones walking up a driveway the size of two basketball courts.

  We get halfway up the driveway when Victoria turns to me with her freaky, narrowed stink eyes. “Don’t mention being from Brayshaw.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I said,” she snaps before stomping off, her man trailing behind her and I can’t help but laugh.

  Nira shakes her head, at Victoria or me, I don’t know or care, and veers left.

  I look over to see the other girls from the group home gathered near the porch, beers in hand, but I don’t join. Instead, I make my way through the open garage and into the giant ass house.

  Music blares from all around. Clearly, there’s some badass sound system set up in the walls – the base surrounds you.

  Dozens upon dozens of teenagers are scattered around, dancing, drinking, and laughing with their friends.

  I’m knocked to the side as I squeeze past a dancing couple, and the girl spins to glare as if she didn’t just bump into me, but before she can pop off, the guy pulls her back in.

  I make my way around the corner to the open kitchen where a group of guys are playing a card game at the table, cigars hanging from most of their mouths.

  The blond one in the center catches my eye and winks before dropping his cards on the table, apparently winning his hand if the others’ groans tell me anything. He must consider me impressed because a smirk is thrown my way next.

  I offer a wink and continue past, taking it upon myself to grab a water bottle from the ice bucket on the counter.

  As I spin back around, blondie steps in front of me. “And who might you be, sweetness?”

  “A figment of your imagination.” I grin, attempting to side step him, but he slides with me.

  “My imagination has always been damn good to me,” he teases.

  “I bet.” I laugh lightly. “I’d also bet you don’t have to use it all too often.” I purposely let my eyes graze over his physique – he’s firm in all the right places. “Or do the girls not fall at the man of the house’s feet?” I throw out my guess and he smiles, telling me without words I’m right.

  “Well, sweetness, you’re still standing so I must be off my game tonight.” He crosses his arms, smirking down at me. “Or maybe your ball’s in the other court.” His eyes drop to my chest, pausing for a slight second before quickly traveling over my outfit.

  I pop a careless shoulder and step around him, spinning to walk backward as he turns to face me. “Maybe. Guess you’ll never know.”

  “Never say never, new girl.”

  A crease lines my forehead, and his chin lifts an inch.

  When I say nothing, taking another step away, he takes one closer.

  “You a Bray girl?”

  “I’m a temporary fixture.”

  “You all are.”

  Now he’s pissing me off. “If you’re asking whether I go to Brayshaw, the answer is an unfortunate yes.”

  He eyes me a moment. “That’s not at all what I’m asking.”

  “You should work on being more direct, you know, having some balls. I’m out.” I spin and walk away and surprisingly, he lets me.

  I decide to be a loner and witness the shenanigans from afar, so I take up shop against the cast iron fence lining the outer left edges of the backyard.

  It’s chilly out so I’m guessing the pool must be heated, that or the people swimming in it are too buzzed to notice.

  “Are you poppin’ a squat?”

  I whip my head to the left, finding another girl from the group home making her way toward me with slow steps. “Am I pissing right here on the grass with all these people around?”

  “Hey, whatever works,” she jokes. “There’s likely a couple fucking in the shower by now, so I can get why someone would rather piss in the grass.”

  I laugh, turning my focus back to the partiers, and the girl drops down beside me.

  “This place is ridiculous,” she mutters, shooting for annoyed but the envy is easily heard.

  I glance around, and it’s easy to understand why she’d feel that way. Shit, the ugly ass stone statues scattered across the yard must cost more than every unit in my mom’s trailer park put together.

  I turn to her. “Have you never been here?”

  “Not this exact house, no, but plenty others just like it. Seeing how these assholes live and knowing where I’m sleeping at the end of the night, makes me kinda sick.”

  I scoff. “What’s your story?”

  “Mom left when I was two, Daddy liked his beer better than his baby.”

  I nod. “So you a drunk too then?”

  Her head jerks back and she gets a little loud. “Excuse me?”

  “Clearly you don’t like being judged.” I raise an eyebrow. “So why are you summing up these people because they have money and you don’t? Don’t be a hypocrite.”

  “You’re a real bitch, you know that?” She glares, but it quickly turns into a grin.

  “So I’m told.” I laugh lightly. “And I’m guilty of it too most of the time.”

  “We all are,” she responds, and I nod.

  “I saw you talking to that guy in the house.”

  When I turn to look at her, she squints.

  “You know the Brayshaws hate them, right?”

  “No, but he acted weird, like he knew I was from the other side of town, and Victoria had a fit telling me not to talk about going to school there, so I figured there was bad blood there or something.”

  “Oh there is. The Brayshaws would flip if they knew we were here, but these guys never seem to care when people like us, the ones on the outside of the inner circle, hang around as long as we lay low. Honestly, I think the one you were talking to likes when we come to these things, even though he ignores us completely.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  She shrugs. “You know how people work. Gives him a bigger sense of power to know Brays are “defying” their masters.” She mocks with a laugh. “Anyway, yeah. They’re rivals, have been for years I guess, schools and families. I heard every year the Brayshaws beat them out by a mile in basketball, but for some reason they never bring home the championship title.”

  “They choke in the finals?” I draw out unbelieving.

  There’s no fucking way, not these boys.

  “I don’t know. There’s rumors Graven sabotaged them each year but the Brays don’t speak about it. If something was done to ruin things, they handle that shit quietly. I heard after losing Sophomore season finals, they even disappeared for a few weeks. Nobody knows why, and nobody dared to ask.”

  My eyes drop to the grass in thought. Graven. That was what Royce called the cop who searched Maddoc on the courts.

  “So wait ... this is a Graven party?”

  “Yep, Graven Prep.”

  Huh.

  I decide to keep the questions running through my mind to myself because what business is it of mine? And who the hell knows if what she’s saying holds any truth.

  “What’s your name again?”

  She opens her mouth to tell me, but we’re cut off.

  “Vienna, Raven!” We both jerk our heads toward Nira when she whisper-yells from the side fence, her eyes wide. “Hurry! We gotta go!”

  “Shit,” the girl beside me, Vienna I guess it is, hisses in a panic and hops up, jogging Nira’s way. “Come on!”

  I’m slower to stand, and right as I do, shouting begins, crowds of people forming a thick cluster beside the pool.

  I walk toward the fence, my eyes flicking between the girls waiting at the back gate for me and the partiers who have turned to stone where they stand.

  “What the fuck do you think you’re doing in my house?” someone barks, but I’m not close enough to see who he’s talking to.

  “Caught one of your girls at our spot tonight, Collins. The second she realized we knew w
ho she was, she booked it but not before admitting you sent her there.”

  I freeze.

  I recognize that voice.

  I move toward the chaos.

  “Raven!” Nira hisses and Victoria growls. “What are you doing?!”

  Still, I step farther into the darkness of the yard, but closer to the scene, seeing perfectly where the line is drawn.

  The partygoers have all moved to stand behind the guy that lives here, Collins as they called him - the one I was talking to in the house - and directly in front of them, maybe two steps away... the kings of Brayshaw.

  Maddoc, Captain, and Royce stand tall and wide, blank expressions worn by each as they face the thirty or so of the others.

  I’m guessing the five who inch closer to Collins are his main men.

  A red-headed girl catches my attention when she slinks toward the front, positioning herself at the edge of the group. She’s trying to appear strong, attempting to show she’s standing in a united line, but from where I am her fear is clear. She has one shoulder tucked behind the guy at her side, too afraid to fully stand against them.

  Royce laughs, but it’s a menacing sound that sends a chill running up my spine. “What’s the matter, baby? Why’d you have to come out and play tonight?” He tilts his head mockingly, eyes traveling over her tiny skirt and jean jacket. “Bet your job was only to get inside ... not let me inside you.” He smirks and she shrinks into her shoulders, her gaze falling to the grass a moment. “Which one of these pussies thinks yours belongs to him? Let me tell him what you like—”

  “Enough,” Collins growls, and like a damn movie, all three Brayshaws step closer. “I hear your pops is asking for a parole hearing. Interesting timing, don’t you think?”

  My brows draw in and I look to the boys, but Maddoc doesn’t even acknowledge he’s spoken.

  “Tell me why you sent her, and I won’t break your point guard’s arm tonight,” Maddoc tells him, his voice unnervingly calm and focused.

  “Fuck you,” the guy I’m assuming is just that, the point guard, spits.

  I glance at the boys again.

  Captain has somehow sneakily slipped a pair of brass knuckles over what I’m only now noticing are tatted fingers and Royce’s are balled into fists. I look back to Maddoc and while he gives nothing away to the naked eye, there’s an eerie air surrounding him. He’s too calm, too poised. He’s ready.

  Fuck me, they’re about to throw down.

  I look to the other side, the Graven side.

  Most of the partygoers have backed up a few steps, but Collins’ numbers doubled in an instant, now a good dozen standing off against the tripod, as I’ve named them.

  And then I see the girl step back and slightly to the side, slowly edging away from them ... but closer to me.

  I cut a quick glance at Nira and the others who all start waving me toward them, none saying a word as they hide in the darkness of the yard, cowering away from the scene, but I turn back toward it.

  They showed up here, three strong, expecting a fight knowing they’d be outnumbered.

  I grin.

  Silly boys, so cocky.

  But the way I see it, the only way to get the upper hand is to have the element of surprise.

  I slowly step forward, and before I’m even seen, I push the chick a few feet over, until I can fully shove her into the pool. Because why the fuck not, it was too easy not to.

  Plus, seems she signed up to play the rat tonight. I’ve got no love for her kind.

  A loud gasp leaves her as she emerges, and she spins to me ... along with every other head in the yard.

  She shrieks, swiping her hair from her face as she pushes up on the side of the cement. “Who the hell are you?” she shouts.

  The Brays’ eyes are on me, I see it in my peripheral, but I don’t look their way. It would defeat the whole purpose, as every other person is looking my way too, meaning their heads are turned away from the three looking for trouble.

  I don’t acknowledge the girl, just laugh lightly as I back away, stepping into the darkness the shadow of the house provides.

  I head for the girls waiting for me. The second I hit the fence line, there’s a loud crack followed by a deep grunt – the first punch thrown.

  Then the screaming and shouts start as they brawl in the backyard.

  We run and jump in Victoria’s man’s car and head back for the group home.

  “Are you fucking insane?!” Victoria sits forward in her seat, spinning to glare at me. “You better hope they don’t figure out we were there with you or I swear to fucking God I’ll—”

  “You’ll what?” I cut her off, leaning forward just the same. “What are you gonna do?”

  “You better watch it, Rae.” Her lip curls. “You can’t walk around here like you run shit. There’s an order you need to follow.”

  “That’s your problem, Victoria. You want so bad to fit somewhere when you don’t. None of us do. Not in this world. We have to wait for our time, create our own fucking life after we let go of everything in the one we were forced into. Stop trying to blend in and maybe you won’t be such a stiff bitch.”

  “Don’t pretend you know me, whore.”

  Juvenile.

  When I roll my eyes and plop back against the seat, she spins around in hers.

  I look to Nira who’s frowning, then Vienna. Her eyes are narrowed, but she fights a grin.

  I turn to look out of the tiny back side window.

  Typical fucking night, I guess.

  “Skank,” someone mumbles as they pass behind me and I slam my locker shut, spinning to see who it is this time, but there are too many people walking by to know for sure.

  All fucking day this has been happening.

  I mean, I’m used to it – comes with the territory when your mom’s been the thorn in more marriages than not.

  But this is different.

  These people seem to think I’ve become a plaything. Word around campus is I’m fucking their king. And his brothers.

  Doesn’t help that every time one of them walks by, they say something along the lines of “be at my house earlier tonight” or “next time bring more than three condoms.”

  I snap back, but it only heightens the flame.

  I shoved the first few who started in this morning, but it quickly became every other person who passed, and I got tired of talking.

  “You’re the first Bray girl without a trust fund.”

  I lift my head to Vienna with a scowl. “I’m not a fucking ‘Bray’ anything.”

  She laughs lightly. “Try telling the put out uptown girls that.”

  I shake my head and look back to my paper.

  “You know they’re all acting stupid because they’re jealous right?” she whispers, dropping into the free seat at my table.

  We have study hall together – where those of us who need to make up credits spend our elective period.

  “They’ve either fucked Royce and Captain and not Maddoc or vice versa and are pissed you’ve had all three. Or they haven’t had their shot yet and now you’re another body in the way of the prize.”

  “Brothers known to share? Twisted shit.”

  She leans it, scanning the room before speaking, “They’re not blood brothers. It’s not a secret or anything, but you didn’t hear that from me. And don’t even mention it. But that’s totally irrelevant right now.” She smiles, but little does she know she’s colored me curious. “So, Royce and Captain share. Maddoc doesn’t. He picks one and fucks them ‘til he’s bored or ditches them if they fuck someone else and then picks another.”

  “So he keeps a girlfriend?”

  She scoffs. “Uh, no. Not girlfriends. Just fuck buddies with rules. And never PDA. You only know ‘cause they trail him everywhere he goes or you’ll hear him tell her when and where, things like that. But again, he doesn’t pass his between the others while he’s indulging, and if they try to jump ship, they’re kicked to the curb by all three and basically
hit nomad status. Nobody in the in crowd will get at ‘em after the Brays release them.”

  “Pretty sure all that’s worse than if they were already known to share.”

  “It is.”

  “Well, I’m over this shit. It has to have something to do with the party Saturday.” I turn to look at her. “Which means they started the fucking rumor themselves.”

  Her jaw drops open, her mouth morphing into a smile just as quick. “They want people to think you’re fucking them!”

  “Ladies!” The teacher lowers her glasses down her face, glaring at the two of us. “Get to work.”

  We glance at each other, both laughing lightly before turning back to our papers.

  So, they want people to think I’m merry-go-rounding, fine. Like I said, nothing new – assholes claim they’ve screwed me all the time. Somehow, my turning down guys gives them a complex, like how dare I, the dirty girl I am, deny them. It always turns into a story of how easy it was to get me on my back.

  This time though, at this place with these guys, it’ll bring even more problems to my feet, just like they want, but I don’t roll over for anyone.

  They think all the threats and so-called bullying will set me straight then they’ve got another thing coming.

  Everyone already thinks me a slut, but I can twist this on them by not pushing back, like they must want.

  They wanna play, we’ll play.

  When lunch rolls around I’m on my own – the group home girls don’t owe me shit and technically we aren’t friends, so I get they don’t want to be guilty by association, so to speak. And unfortunately, that’s how high school works. You are who you hang with.

  So I chose a deserted table, nothing but leftover food at the other end from a crowd who was too lazy to carry their trays to the trash.

  I’m only seated for a solid five minutes when Royce plants his ass on the table in front of me, swinging his large leg over so I’m now between his, my face just about level with his crotch.

 

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