Boys of Brayshaw High

by Meagan Brandy

  I look back to Maddoc finding him now studying me.

  “We’re hungover as fuck, it’s a three-day weekend, and we have no plans ‘til tonight.” He stares. “Come back to bed.”

  I take a deep breath and figure ‘fuck it.’ I shut and lock the door and drop onto the bed.

  He doesn’t scoot closer like he did last night – if he even remembers doing so. This time he simply closes his eyes and falls fast asleep.

  I lay there wishing away the confusion he’s planted inside me.

  “Raven, let’s go.”

  With a groan, I move back into my bathroom and stand on the toilet to look myself over.

  The suit fits perfectly. Too perfectly.

  It’s tight on my ass and forms to my every curve, showing off the curl of my hips in the openings. I’m a little too skinny for my liking, but I never have been able to hold any weight. All the walking around and mere lack of food didn’t help either.

  Either way, not much is left to the imagination in this thing.

  I turn to look over the back again and slip, falling against the wall.

  I laugh, finding my footing as a loud bang hits the door.

  “The fuck was that?” Royce shouts. “You good in there?”

  “Yeah.” I chuckle then frown at the mirror. I left my hair down, hoping to cover myself some – and keep me warm since it’s fucking cold out – but now that I’m looking again, it almost makes me look more ... like her. Desperate. Willing.

  I move to the bed and drop down, facing the ceiling.

  It’s not the suit or the way it looks or how much it shows. It’s how every day when I look in the mirror, my mother stares back, mocking me with her nasty smirk. She’s like the dirty devil glued to my shoulder, constantly hissing in my ear reminding me who we are and what we’ll never be.

  Some kids get pep talks of honesty and integrity, I get a prime hooker’s playbook on how to seduce a married man for blackmail money.

  And while I imagine a lot of daughters are told how much their beauty matches their mother’s, I’m reminded how I’ll never measure up to mine.

  I can admit she’s the far prettier version of me on any day. She’s got the sleek hair and big blue eyes, heavy makeup and heavier tits. For a woman who has used drugs for as long as I can remember, she somehow keeps herself up.

  I told her once that she’d look like a troll eventually and she simply laughed and disagreed. She claims cocaine is nicer on the appearance than other drugs, which is why she ‘chose’ that over meth. Idiot. She calls it the soccer mom drug, swearing half the women in the suburbs – the wives of her clients – are all on a line or two a day.

  When I asked why, if that were true, she couldn’t function the way they did, she gave me a black eye.

  I had laughed and left for school.

  I already knew the answer, I just wanted to piss her off.

  A single line or two would never be enough for Ravina Carver. She needs an eight ball to keep her satisfied, and even then ... enough is never enough.

  Sometimes though, say after a four-day binge with no sleep, she looks the part of the scavenger she is.

  Those are usually the days she has heavy hands.

  “Open the door,” Captain calls.

  With a sigh, I pull myself from the comforter and do as he asks.

  His attention immediately drops to my body and damn if mine doesn’t do the same.

  I step back to have a better look at him standing there in nothing but a pair of grey and blue swim trunks.

  Captain is ripped. Like ... ripped. Where Maddoc’s got that hard-earned tall and tapered effect of the three, Captain is broader, so his muscles are fuller, but he doesn’t have that hardened look. His body seems soft but strong, like he’d wrap you up tight and you’d involuntarily melt right there in his arms, beg him not to let go. He’ll keep a girl real warm tonight.

  “Raven.”

  I lift my eyes and he winks.

  “You look good, too.”

  I roll my eyes and when Royce steps beside him, I look him over just the same.

  He’s the leaner of the three, but still has the definition of an athlete. He’s tight in the right areas, with biceps that flex with each movement. It’s the tattoos though that reel you in at the start. He screams bad bad bad and he knows it.

  I laugh when I see his trunks of choice.

  They’re white – bad move number one – and have a hot dog image with wings printed right over his groin.

  He sees me looking and thrusts his hips, making his dick bounces against the fabric.

  “Oh my God!” I laugh covering my eyes. “Quit your shit!”

  Clearly no boxers under there.

  He laughs. “Don’t act like you don’t wanna look, we both know you’re dying to feel me up again.”

  “Let’s fucking go,” the big man’s voice booms over us.

  With grins, the other two shuffle away and finally, big man is in sight.

  Maddoc, the god he is, is wearing solid black trunks, and I’d expect no different. He doesn’t need to be flashy to be seen. He’s got the aesthetic that forces your fixation - you simply can’t miss the man. Especially not right now with the way those trunks ride low on his hips. His happy trail is practically screaming to be played with.

  I look to him, finding his stare stuck on my thighs.

  Those fiery eyes lift to mine.

  Yeah ... this is gonna happen eventually.

  He takes a step toward me, but Royce clamps a hand on his shoulder.

  “Lights out, brother.”

  Maddoc licks his lips and looks off, making me grin.

  Captain collects all their phones, and turns to me. “Putting these in the safe for the night, so stick close by us or Leo, ‘cause you won’t be able to call us if you need to.”

  “One, I don’t have your numbers. Two, I don’t have a phone,” I laugh and shut my light off, meeting them at the end of the hall. “And three, I’m a big girl. I—”

  “Just do what you’re told, Raven.”

  I slink up next to Maddoc, slowly planting my hand on his bare chest, ignoring the way it gets my pulse kicking. His skin’s as hot as he is. “Yes, boss.”

  He frowns, knowing I’ll do whatever I please, just like I know he’ll be waiting to step in should he not approve. I’m learning the ways of the bossy bastard.

  “Aight, let’s have some fun!” Royce shouts as Maddoc pulls the door open.

  A burst of cold air hits us and I shiver.

  Royce pulls me in, brushing his fingers along my arm playfully. He drops his lips to my ear. “Told you, warm body’ll work best for this.”

  I laugh and shove him off.

  With a lungful of air, I step outside first and the boys follow.

  They weren’t playing.

  Nothing but half-naked bodies everywhere.

  Seems they’ve used the walking path to start lining up sleeping bags and I heard they’ve already got three people assigned to some - a couple who got caught fucking on the countertops in one cabin and a chick who forgot her lipstick got screwed as well. She tried to argue it, but apparently needing that perfect pout isn’t reason enough for a free pass inside.

  What the hell will happen when the girls start having to pee, who knows.

  I glance around. The groups are spread out well so people can roam from one spot to another as they want. There are several different games going on around – dice, cards, beer pong and quarters. I’m sitting next to the fools who suck at throwing disks.

  “Rae!” Leo shouts. “Come on, girl, I need a teammate. Mine passed out.” He motions toward a guy sleeping on top of a nearby picnic table.

  “Didn’t wanna risk getting caught headed for his bed?”

  “Nope.” Leo laughs. “But I’m not sure that table’s any better than a screwed sleeping sack. First night, Cari Thomas fucked Mark Rogers on there, and last night, well you saw Madman gettin’ his dick sucked. Probably wiped his cum on it.”r />
  “He didn’t,” flies out before I can stop it.

  Questioning stares hit mine, so I get us back on track.

  “Partner, you say?”

  “Yeah.” He eyes me. “You ever play Bottle Bash?”

  “With actual bottles we dug out of recycle bins and a broken broomstick, yeah, not this fancy shit.”

  A guy on the other team grins and lifts the Frisbee. “All you gotta do is throw this thing and hit the target. We’re too lazy to count technicalities.”

  “Aim wins the game.” I toss the Frisbee in my hands.

  Loud laughter catches my attention and I glance behind me.

  About a court’s length back, the Graven students party in front of what I’m assuming is one of their cabins.

  “They won’t come any closer,” Leo says quietly.

  Collins stares right at me, completely ignoring the chick sitting on his lap.

  “Surprised they even come this way.”

  “They usually stay back by Collins’ place, keep us separated by the trail, but after the fight yesterday...” He trails off and I meet his stare. “Seems they’re making it a point to show their ground.”

  He’s wrong. Collins wants to be seen. He wants the upper hand in whatever this is, and right now the only answer he sees ... is me.

  He’s gauging, watching for signs of possession from the boys to me.

  He wants confirmation that to get to me is to get to them. But it won’t work.

  He doesn’t realize I’m just an outsider with a closer view than others at the moment. But I’m not a part of them.

  As if reading my thoughts his lip tips up and he winks before finally looking back to his group.

  “Come on, Leo, girls can’t throw,” the opponent jokes, bringing us back to the now.

  I spin around and raise a brow. “Bet.”

  “Bet?”

  “I make it, you’re my partner’s official beer boy for the night.”

  The guy laughs drunkenly. “You’re on.”

  I look back to Leo. “You, dear Leo, are about to benefit from having me as partner.”

  He frowns and I turn back around, aim, and throw the Frisbee.

  It hits the bottle perfectly, knocking it to the dirt.

  They all hoot and holler and I bow, laughing lightly.

  “Lucky shot?”

  I shrug. “Passed a lot of time perfecting those trashcan paper tosses.”

  He nods, a light laugh leaving him. “Yeah. Pretty much where I learned to shoot, too.”

  “You grow up around here?”

  “’Bout a mile down the street from the Bray houses. I was lucky though, Pops had a double wide instead of a single.” He laughs, but it’s bitter. Lucky is the last thing he considers his life to be.

  There’s a story there, but I don’t feel like telling mine tonight so I only nod and pretend to need another drink so I can walk off.

  When I glance left, a flash of white catches my eye and I squint to see better, but it’s gone.

  I look around for the only pair of white shorts I’ve seen tonight, not finding any. That’s when I notice the other two are nowhere to be found.

  Curiosity gets the best of me, so I pretend to survey everything around me, and when it’s more than clear nobody is watching, I head the way the white shorts disappeared to.

  I go around the opposite way so that when I reach the end, I’m coming up the back side of the cabins.

  I frown when I realize where I am, a large air hockey table not fifteen feet to my right.

  “What the fuck?” I whisper, quickly dropping down behind a parked car when footsteps grow near. Then the voices hit my ears.

  “How can you not get it open?”

  “They had to have changed the fucking locks. I popped that shit a dozen times last trip. I was fucking ready for it.”

  “Obviously not.”

  “Man, fuck you. I tried. Don’t see you doing shit to get it.”

  “I’ll bust the fucking window right now.”

  “Yeah, and then every motherfucker will hear it.”

  “Both of you, shut the fuck up and let’s think.”

  I shift to the side, seeing it really is just the three ... standing not a foot from Collins’ cabin door.

  Those fuckers. They’re trying to break in.

  I look to the cabin, scanning the deck and each window.

  Bingo.

  I pop up and head their way.

  “The answer’s easy.”

  Three heads jerk my way, deep frowns taking over.

  “Go back to the fucking party,” Maddoc orders, suspicion in his eyes.

  “What’s the point? I already saw you guys trying to break in.” I shrug and his jaw clenches.

  Royce cuts his eyes from Maddoc back to me. “Got some new fancy lock. Can’t crack it.”

  “You also can’t fit any one of your big ass bodies through that shower window. I, however, can.” I cross my arms and wait.

  They do the whole, ‘no way, I don’t think so’ thing and of course it’s Captain who understands I’m the only answer.

  Maddoc looks to me. “This is Brayshaw business.”

  “I’m nothing but a key, I’ll go after it’s opened.” I shrug, looking between the three.

  “That’s not what I meant—” he growls, but Captain cuts him off.

  “We don’t have time for this.”

  They turn for the side of the cabin, so I follow. Maddoc bends down, allowing me to step up on his knee so I can grip the edge of the window. His hands find my ass and he gives me a solid push and with a tiny twist, I’m in.

  I flip on the bathroom light quickly and they all start yelling at me, but I leave it until I hit the front door, unlock and yank it open. I go to dart back into the lighted night sky, but Maddoc blocks me and shoves me back inside as Royce runs past to the bathroom and flips the light off.

  I tense. “Let me out.”

  “Hell no. You’re not walking back by yourself.”

  “Then turn on the light.”

  “And let people come barging in looking to bust us for the fucking game only to bust us for breaking in the damn place? Don’t be stupid.”

  Someone grabs my hand and yanks, dragging me through the dark house. Clearly, they’ve mapped the place out as not one of them knocks into anything along the way.

  I’m shoved forward. A door clicks behind me, followed by a lock.

  My heart rate spikes.

  Shit.

  “Turn on a light.”

  “No.”

  More noises echo and I jerk around, but I can’t see. Tapping comes from the other corner and I spin that way.

  Shit, shit.

  I squeeze my eyes shut, but it only makes everything worse.

  “Give me your phone,” I say to no one in particular.

  “Don’t have ‘em, remember? Couldn’t chance one ringing and us being heard. Your talking isn’t helping either,” Maddoc snaps at me.

  “I can’t...” I bound forward, knocking into something, a loud scrape against the hardwood making them all curse quietly. “I need out.”

  “Raven, chill—”

  “I said I need out!” I shout, not caring who hears.

  “Fuck, dude. She’s gonna get us caught!”

  I start breathing hard, wringing my hands at my sides.

  Fingers touch my back and I yelp, jerking forward, again bumping into something. A table maybe?

  “Fuck.”

  “Shut her up.”

  “It’s the dark.”

  “She’s afraid of the fucking dark?”

  “No way ... really?”

  They talk like I’m not here but I can’t focus enough to care let alone respond.

  I swallow, trying to calm my nerves but it does nothing.

  “Fuck, fuck fuck fuck. I can’t. Sorry, but I gotta get out.”

  “Raven, quiet.”

  “I said I want out!”

  “Bro, shut her up.” They start
to panic.

  “Someone will hear.”

  “Fuck.”

  “I swear to fucking—” My words die on my lips when I’m jerked right and heavy lips land on mine.

  I tense, but the mouth on mine adds pressure.

  A light whimper leaves me and a hand dips into my hair, using the grip to drag me forward and I go willingly, but then the soft sound of a drawer closing in the room has me jumping back.

  “Fuck, I need out of here now. I can’t.” I start breathing heavy and dizziness takes over. “Please.”

  “It’s not enough,” says one of them. “She’s too tripped out.”

  “I found it!” Captain whispers urgently.

  “Don’t matter! We can’t fucking go until we get the signal. We’re stuck for a minute.”

  A door slams somewhere and the boys cuss.

  “That wasn’t you, was it?” I whisper, damn near on the verge of shaking now.

  No one answers.

  “Was that you, guys?” I say louder, and they shush me.

  “Someone’s inside.”

  I let out a small cry when something falls to the floor.

  “Dude. Make her relax,” Captain hisses.

  “I could—” Royce is cut off when Maddoc snaps, “Don’t even.”

  Screw this.

  I fight to get past them, but I’m only pushed backward.

  “Damn it,” Maddoc growls. “Everybody quiet.”

  “This isn’t happening,” I whisper to myself.

  “Rae—”

  “Fuck fuck fuck.” Something touches my elbow and a small yelp leaves me.

  “Shut her up. Now.”

  Once again, I’m yanked forward, a warm mouth dropping to meet mine. I try to get lost in the heat of it all, doing my best to draw up images in my mind. The lips are soft and full, perfectly skilled and wanting.

  A second set of hands, slightly rougher than the firsts, find my shoulders and slowly inch their way down, causing a shiver to run through me.

  The person cradling my face pulls me closer, and I willingly step against the solid body in front of me.

  There’s a slight shuffle to my left and I pull back a little. “I—”

  “Shh. No talking.” I think this gentle command comes from Captain.

  Two new hands lift me from my feet, and I’m laid across a soft cushion.

  I try to free my lips, but the mouth on mine refuses to let me go and a silky tongue sweeps mine until I relax some more. The kisser skims his heated mouth across my chin to my neck, and then he’s gone.