Bully Me (Willow Heights Prep Academy: The Elite Book 1)

by Selena

  “It’s not a big deal,” I say. “We were just talking, and he asked who I was going with. I told him I wasn’t going, and he asked me.”

  “No way,” Dixie squeals. “You’re so lucky.”

  “You’re not going?” I ask as the car speeds toward the tiny shopping center in town.

  Dixie snorts. “I’m only a freshman. I can’t even go alone. They don’t allow freshmen unless their date is an upperclassman.”

  “Royal’s a sophomore,” I point out.

  “Oh… No, it’s okay,” Dixie says, going red to the roots of her hair. “Really, I’m good. I’ll go next year.”

  “I’ll take you,” Royal says, breaking his silence at last.

  “You don’t have to,” Dixie mumbles.

  “Okay,” Royal says. “If you don’t want to go, I won’t take you.”

  “I mean, I want to,” she blurts, blushing even harder. “But you probably have someone you’d rather ask.”

  “You can just go as friends if it makes you more comfortable,” I say. “Like me and Colt.”

  I catch Royal’s eye, and seeing the relief there lets me know I did the right thing. I want him to be okay with the Darlings, but I don’t want to upset him. If it makes him happy, I’ll go as friends with Colt. I’m not even sure I like Colt. Sometimes he’s great, and other times… Not so much.

  “Okay,” Dixie says. “But, I mean, don’t you guys already have dates?”

  I roll my eyes and turn to my friend in the back seat. “When a cute boy asks you out, and you want to go, the answer you usually give is yes.”

  “Yes,” she whispers.

  “Great,” I say. “Now, let’s go get some dresses.”

  twenty-two

  So this is how reconciliation feels. Despite my brothers’ misgivings, I feel good. Taking down the Darlings never felt quite right to me. But joining them at the top, sharing their throne, and making sure I use that power to protect people—that feels right. Having a say in it, and not just doing what my family wants, that feels right. For the first time in a long time, I might be able to do something for me, too, not just the Dolce name. And that’s the kind of power I want.

  “This limo is tacky as fuck,” I say, laughing as I climb in next to Dixie and Dolly, who by some miracle agreed to be Duke’s date. I thought she might be with Preston now, but obviously she’s got better taste than I gave her credit for. I almost feel bad for her. The poor girl has no idea what’s about to hit her. My brothers may be loyal to me, but that trait doesn’t carry over into their dating lives.

  Baron quietly asked a cheerleader sometime in the past month, and we’re all riding together. Once the girls are in, Duke and Baron squeeze in next to their dates. Royal stands glaring at Colt, who ducks in next to me before my brother relents and climbs in.

  “I’d so kiss you if your brother wasn’t here right now,” Colt says to me with a grin.

  “And if we were going as more than friends,” I remind him. I made the concession to appease Royal, who was royally pissed about the whole thing, but I also don’t want Colt to get the wrong impression. We made up the whole star-crossed lovers thing to get our families to drop their feud, but it’s hard to tell with Colt when he’s serious and when he’s not. I don’t want to lead him on when I’m not really sure how I feel about him. My heart doesn’t stutter step when someone mentions his name, and his smell doesn’t make me dizzy no matter how deeply I inhale it. But he’s fun when he’s not following his psycho cousins, who are banned from the dance along with King.

  “Let’s get this party started,” Duke says, grabbing some champagne while Dixie hands out glasses, giggling all the while. We crank up the music and open the top of the limo while it speeds down the road toward the swanky club where the dance is being held. Duke opens the champagne, making sure to spray some on Dolly so he can lick it off her cleavage while she yelps in surprise. She doesn’t look exactly appalled, though. Most girls don’t see Duke coming until it’s too late, until they’re seeing his taillights as he’s going.

  “I’ve never been in a limo,” Dixie shouts over the music, her cheeks flushed from the little bit of champagne she’s had.

  “Then you have to get out the top,” I yell back. “Come on. I’ll go with you.”

  We both stand and stick our heads out, yelling into the chilly October night and holding our arms up like we’re on a rollercoaster.

  “Someone’s slapping my ass,” she shrieks, doing a funny little dance step before collapsing back inside in a heap of giggles.

  “Come back in,” Dolly yells. “You’re gonna mess up your hair.”

  “I don’t care.”

  For one moment, I stay out there alone. I open my mouth wide and scream, then inhale, swallowing up the whole night. The cold, the sparse lights in the small town, the cars driving by with flags for the school, the laughter of my friends inside, the buzz of champagne bubbling in my veins. I feel electric.

  When we get to the dance, we’ve already polished off three bottles of champagne, and we’re all a little tipsy. The people taking tickets give us dirty looks that range from suspicious to disgusted to pissed, but we don’t care. We brought the party.

  I realize that as we step into the dance hall, beautifully decorated with black and gold. A swarm descends on Colt, and no one seems to remember that Dixie and I were Dolce dogs. We have beautiful boys on our arms. We laugh as loud as we want to. We dance before anyone’s dancing because we can.

  Yeah, Lacey and her bitchy friends stand at the edge of the dance floor giving us looks and snickering, but I know it’s only because they’re not confident enough to walk out onto an empty dance floor and kick things off. That’s okay. Someone’s gotta do it.

  And pretty soon, other people come out and dance with us, and then the dance floor is full. People might say they hate the social hierarchy, but they don’t. The truth is, we created it, and without it, no one would know where they fit. And everyone likes to fit somewhere. What they like even more is knowing where everyone else fits. When we’re like this, people are comfortable. No one wonders where we fit; no one is on edge because they don’t know what to do with us. We belong with the Darlings, at the top. That’s something they understand.

  Colt dances up close to me, lifting his arms and swiveling his hips. “This colt hasn’t been broken,” he says, giving me that sexy, young-Matthew McConaughey grin. “Wanna try riding this one bareback, or do you need a saddle?”

  “I need a lot more alcohol,” I say, laughing and moving in time with him, leaving a space between us.

  “That can be arranged,” Colt says, hooking an arm around my waist and pulling me to him. He pushes his thigh between mine and moves in a slower, dirtier rhythm. “You sure about this just-friends thing?” he asks, his champagne breath warming my cheeks. “Because I’m feeling something.”

  “It’s called drunk,” I say, pushing lightly against his chest.

  “Is it?” he asks, his lips brushing my cheek and sending a shiver down my spine. He takes my hand and brings it between us, pressing my palm against a rigid bulge in his pants. I’m so shocked I wrap my fingers around his shaft without thought. I’ve never touched a guy like this before, and my heart stammers in my chest at the intimate contact. Before my brain catches up to my body, Colt’s lips meet mine. He pushes his hard-on into my hand, groaning into my mouth and plunging his tongue between my lips.

  “Colt,” I say, tearing my lips away and jerking my hand from his. “What are you doing? We’re in the middle of a room full of people.”

  He catches my hand, grinning and giving me his puppy-dog eyes. “We can go somewhere more private if you want.”

  “I don’t,” I say, my body rigid in his grip. “I said we were just going as friends.”

  “To make your brother happy,” he says. “He doesn’t have to know it’s more than that.”

  “It’s not,” I say, convinced of the truth of my own words now that I’ve spoken. Sure, it felt good, and th
e memory of his thickness in my fingers sends a dart of excitement through me. If I’d never stood waiting for Devlin’s lips to meet mine, the whole world spinning upside down and out of control, Colt’s kiss might have been enough. If I’d never felt Devlin’s breath against my lips and prayed so hard for him to kiss me that there was not a single thought in my head, it might have. If I’d never felt my knees buckle at the scent of his skin, it might.

  But I have. Colt’s touch is nice, but it’s not Devlin’s. I find my eyes straying to the door, but of course he’s not here. He can’t come to this.

  “Okay,” Colt says with a shrug and a lazy grin. “If you say so.”

  And then he keeps on dancing like I didn’t just shoot him down. I can’t tell if he’s really unaffected, or if he hides it as well as he hides everything else.

  “Let’s just have fun,” I say.

  “Already having it,” Colt says, spinning me around and pinning me to his chest, his hips grinding into mine. I like dancing, and if he’s okay with dancing with me after I rejected him, then I’m okay with it, too. Maybe he goes around kissing girls all the time. On my first day, Lacey told me to watch out for him and Preston, that they go through girls like tissues and toss them away with as little thought. I have to believe Colt is just doing what he does, that he’ll just find some other girl for his next victim as easily as he found me.

  We dance, and after a while, the awkwardness is forgotten. I dance with the girls, and in a group with everyone, and jump up and down with my brothers to an energetic song. Dolly has no shame and does the chicken dance to some song, so I join her. When Lacey and her bitchy friends start mocking us, Dolly just yells for me to “shake my tail feathers at them.” She turns out to be lots of fun, despite her gloomy disposition the night before. I don’t even care if I’m a Dog or a Doll or neither or both. I just care that I have friends to dance with, the feud is over, and I’m having fun. Everything is perfect.

  We’ve been dancing for a few hours when suddenly, a hush falls over the dance floor. I turn, searching for the commotion. One of the doormen is at the DJ booth, gesturing angrily. I feel a prickle on the back of my neck and turn slowly. Devlin Darling stands at the edge of the dance floor in dark jeans and a buttoned shirt, staring at me.

  With a scratch, the music dies.

  The dancers grumble, then fall silent when they realize there’s drama to witness.

  Or… Something.

  My heart hammers so hard that I can’t think of or feel anything else. I join the crowd in gaping at Devlin. He gives a quick glance around and then strides forward. Toward me. The girl he humiliated and threatened last night. The girl he called a dog, and forced to take shots, and led around a party on a leash like a fucking animal.

  He stops in front of me. I should cringe away from him, but I don’t. I inhale the clean soapy smell of him, like he just showered. His hair is combed back and looks still wet. His skin is smoothly shaven. His blue eyes pierce into mine, down to my very soul.

  He holds out a hand. “Dance with me.”

  I can’t think of the right response. My mouth opens, and words pop out. “You’re not supposed to be here.”

  “One dance,” he says, stepping forward so we’re close enough to dance. All I have to do is put my hand in his. I look at his lips, so tempting they make my mouth water. But I don’t move.

  “Why?” I whisper, suddenly short of breath.

  “I came here for one dance,” he says. “Then I’ll leave.”

  “I don’t think they’re going to let you stay for even one dance.”

  “They can try to throw me out,” he says. “But I’m not leaving until I’ve danced with you.”

  “You’ll get arrested again.”

  “It’ll be worth it.”

  I swallow hard before sliding my arms around his neck. His hands fall gently on my hips. The DJ starts the music, a different song now—“Say You Won’t Let Go.”

  “How did you know I like this song?” I whisper against his ear.

  Devlin shudders and pulls me closer, his eyes dropping closed for a second. “Lucky guess.”

  “Or gross invasion of privacy?”

  “Yeah, that too.”

  I lay my head on his chest, angling my mouth up toward his neck. “Devlin? Why are you really here?”

  “I don’t know,” he admits. “I was at home, and everything was fine. But I couldn’t stop thinking about you here with my cousin. It was fucking with my head. I got tired of being pissed about it, so I came here to see what you were doing.”

  “Wow,” I say, laughing shakily. “Stalk much?”

  “When it’s you? Fuck yes.”

  “But you hate me.”

  “So?” he says. “You hate me, too.”

  We stare at each other for a long moment. I search his eyes, finding a challenge there, as if he thinks I’ll contradict him. I swallow hard and then nod. “Yeah…”

  “Then shut up and dance with me until the cops come.”

  His hands are strong on my waist, his long fingers almost circling my middle and making me feel small and fragile. His body is hard against mine, sending my pulse racing and my brain spiraling as I inhale against his neck. For one moment, for one song, I let myself go. I let myself imagine what it would be like, this fairytale. I let myself believe.

  And then the song ends, and Devlin pulls back. He stares into my eyes, neither of us letting go. The music changes to something that requires twerking and grinding, but Devlin’s eyes never leave mine, his hands still on my waist, his hips barely swaying. My pulse begins to pound hard and slow. I’m barely moving, but my breath comes faster than if I was dancing my heart out.

  “Devlin,” I say slowly.

  And then a commotion at the door draws our attention. Someone shrieks, and a ripple of voices spreads across the room.

  “Cops…”

  “Cops…”

  “Cops—”

  “I better go,” Devlin says, the corner of his mouth quirking for just a second.

  “I thought you were untouchable,” I say. “You can’t even bully your way into a school dance?”

  Colt grabs Devlin’s arm and my hand, dragging us toward a side exit. “Let’s bounce,” he says. “This place is about to get too lame. I’m not meant for jail. This horse likes to run free.”

  “I can’t leave my brothers,” I say, starting to pull away just as I see Duke. I grab his hand, and we run. We’re laughing, but my heart thuds with fear and excitement and danger all rolled into one. My brothers don’t let me do this kind of thing, don’t include me in it. Baron’s with us by the time we hit the door, bursting out into the chilly, damp evening. A haze surrounds the streetlamps, and music thumps faintly from inside the hall. Our footfalls echo across the pavement, along with Dolly’s laugh, which is bigger and bawdier than I expected, and Dixie’s girlish giggle.

  Blue lights bath the parking lot in a silent, incessant pulse like a heartbeat. Devlin leads the way through the parking lot, skidding to a stop when we reach his new red convertible. He hits the top, and it recedes while we all wait, barely able to contain ourselves from leaping in before the top’s down. Devlin is already in the front seat, dragging me into his lap. Colt hops over the door into the passenger seat, hauling Dixie over the side of the car into his lap. All I can see are her legs sticking up over a front seat full of satin and tulle, and I start laughing as the car lurches forward.

  Colt whoops from under the ocean of Dixie’s dress, and Devlin swears and swerves out of the lot, shooting through the night. The cool, damp wind snatches my breath as we streak through the dark streets of Faulkner. The moon hangs like a round, white pumpkin in the sky, millions of stars flung out from it in every direction. I take a deep breath of the fresh air. This is small-town life, but it feels like I’m living bigger than I ever have before.

  We wind along two-lane roads through the woods, at last pulling up in a gravel drive that’s all too familiar.

  “Welcome to t
he after party,” Colt says, spilling out the door with Dixie still in his arms. The twins hop out, each of them holding one of Dolly’s hands. So that’s how that’s going down, then.

  “Shit,” I say. “We left Royal.”

  “He can have the limo,” Colt says.

  “And my date,” Baron says. He and Duke crack up, and Devlin leads us up the steps and into his mom’s house. It’s apparently empty.

  Devlin leads us into a small alcove off the kitchen and throws wide the glass doors of a set of cabinets. Expensive bottles of liquor are packed into every inch.

  Colt grabs a bottle of tequila and hefts it like a trophy. “Let’s get the real party started!”

  twenty-three

  I wake to the pounding in my own head. I’m cocooned in warmth, and for a minute, I don’t want to move. But as consciousness swims up to meet me, I remember the night before. I roll over, only to find myself staring at a horrifyingly bare chest.

  “Fuck!” I whisper, sitting up and staring in disbelief. “Fuck fuck fuck.”

  I’m not wearing anything but a bra and underwear, and something on my stomach feels sticky. I close my eyes and pray it’s vomit. I remember getting sick. I remember Devlin feeding me shots until I puked, and then trying to feed me more, but I kept puking until he gave up. What I don’t remember is after that. I don’t remember leaving the party. I don’t remember losing my pants. I don’t know how I got here. I don’t even know where here is.

  When I open my eyes, the boy is still there. The beautiful, terrible boy who tormented me on Friday night and came for me on Saturday like a claiming. The boy whose parents didn’t even care enough to interrupt when he held me down and held a knife to my face, and the boy who refused to leave a high school dance until he’d had one dance with me. The boy whose arms are wrapped around me like a lover’s, whose face looks like an angel with the sun gleaming off his blond strands as they lay rumpled on the pillow.

  For one second, I think about letting him sleep. About letting him wake up and think it was a sweet dream or not remember it at all.