The Blackstone Prep Academy Duet

by M. E. Clayton

  “You don’t feel bad at all?” I asked, wondering how he could be such a wonderful brother but such a jackass to everyone else. “Do you really feel no remorse?”

  “Grace, I wasn’t friends with Leah,” he pointed out. “I didn’t know the girl. I had no connection with her to feel badly beyond basic human empathy for her situation. You’re taking responsibility for Seth’s sins, and why? Because he was your boyfriend?”

  “He told her he was sleeping with her because I refused to put out, Sterling,” I told him. “If he-”

  Sterling grabbed my shoulders and turned me to face him. “Stop it,” he commanded. “She was sleeping with a guy who had a girlfriend, Grace. Quit painting her in this light of complete innocence. She wasn’t.” He shook his head. “I’m not trying to bash the girl, but it’s not speaking ill of the dead if it’s the truth. Don’t let her suicide and personal connection to you through Seth absolve her of all responsibility, Grace. You’re saying that if we had been kinder people, she might still be alive. However, if she hadn’t made the decision to cheat with a guy she knew had a girlfriend, well then, maybe she wouldn’t have gotten pregnant and ended up in the situation she had.”

  I mulled over his words, but they weren’t helping me with what I felt. “I can’t help the way I feel, Sterling,” I told him. “I…can’t.”

  “I know, Grace,” he said, pulling me into his arms. “I know.”

  I knew Sterling could tell I was about to begin spiraling again, so the Friday night party forgotten, he had stayed with me all night until I had finally fallen asleep.

  He had even stayed with me through the nightmares.

  Chapter 4

  Styx~

  Today was October fifteenth and my birthday. I was officially a grown adult but who still had a curfew and had to mind his elders, school and parental alike.

  I didn’t feel any different, but then, I’ve been working since I was fifteen and stepping up to take care of my mother and sister since forever. My father was a good man but being a cop had him working long hours.

  “I can’t believe you’re not having a big party for your big one-eight,” Davion remarked as he took the empty seat to my right.

  I glanced out at my backyard, and while there were people here, it wasn’t packed. I hadn’t wanted a huge celebration for my eighteenth birthday simply because I didn’t have the energy. I had put in a full week at the auto shop because they were shorthanded with Timmy’s wife going into labor earlier than expected, and I had offered to work a half day for them this morning as well. The shop was closed on Sundays, but I had planned on catching up on some school homework and projects all day Sunday. Saturday afternoon was the best I could give my parents for a small celebration. Honestly, I just wanted to relax and watch some television until I fell asleep.

  “I don’t have that kind of time or energy, Davion,” I told him. “Besides, all the people I’d want here, are here.” And that was true. Only my parents, my sister, Davion, and seven other people were here. Cason, Brooks, Zeke, Ivy, and Claire were all friends from my neighborhood and who I had gone to grade school with. Davion aside, Brett and Lauren were the only other people from Blackstone who I considered friends enough to invite them over. And luckily for me, everyone meshed well together. This wasn’t the first time my two worlds have collided, and things were all good every time.

  The best way I could categorize my friends were the following:

  Cason was the broody fighter type.

  Brooks was the moody book type.

  Zeke was the easy-going type.

  Ivy was the sports fanatic type.

  Claire was the girly type, and my regular hookup.

  Brett was the driven type.

  Lauren was the quiet type.

  And Davion was all of those types put together.

  But for all their differences, they were good and loyal and solid. They were my type of people. They were the kind of people who I wanted around my parents and sister. They were the people I wanted setting the example for my little sister.

  “You know, if Ivy wasn’t so abhorrently against Fantasy Football, she’d be the perfect girl,” he remarked as his eyes landed on the pretty redhead.

  “She believes in loyalty,” I retorted. “How can you call yourself an Eagles fan but put a Cowboys’ player on your fantasy team and root for the fucker? Ivy’s a die-hard.”

  “Oh, come on,” he whined. “The entire world does it.”

  Then I remembered a quote I read years ago. “Just because it’s accepted by the masses doesn’t mean it’s right.”

  “It’s just sports,” he argued.

  I laughed. “Yeah, tell that to Ivy,” I dared him.

  After a few seconds of silence, Davion asked, “Why are you sitting over here by yourself anyway? Even if it’s a small party, shouldn’t you be in the middle of it?”

  “I’m waiting for them to all get their food first.” My father and mother were done with the barbecue and side foods and everyone was lined up to pile it on their plates. “I’m just being hospitable.”

  “You still hitting it with Claire?”

  I was, but it’s been a while. I really didn’t have enough hours in my days to devote to anything more than a random hookup, but I also knew whatever we had was fizzling out. The last time we hooked up it had been lukewarm at best. I had gotten in and gotten out and I knew she could sense my disinterest. I mean, of course, my body was interested in sex with a hot teenage girl, but my mind had been on other things. And even if you could bring a girl to orgasm, that was just biology. Unlike men, women needed more than just an orgasm to enjoy sex. They needed the entire experience. Men fucked with their dicks whereas women fucked with their entire bodies and their minds.

  It’s why they were so much more amazing than we were.

  “Yeah,” I told him, but didn’t elaborate. Davion knew Claire wasn’t my girlfriend. He knew it was as casual as it could be. Claire was an awesome girl, and she had a great body, but she didn’t make my heart want to beat out of my chest when I looked at her. I still wanted that, even if the only time I’ve ever had it had ended with my soul shattered.

  As everyone made their way back to the tables, I saw my mom walking my way with a plate of food. I smiled as everyone took their seats and began eating. Earlier, my dad and I had set up three different patio sets to accommodate us all. Each set sat five people, so everyone was comfortable.

  “Happy Birthday, Styx,” my mom said, kissing my cheek as she placed the plate in front of me.

  “Thanks, Mom.” She smiled and headed on back over towards my dad.

  Ivy and Brooks joined me and Davion at our table, while Cason, Zeke, Lauren, and Brett sat at one table, and Clair and Lauren joined my sister and parents at the other. All these people have been around my family enough times to be comfortable around them.

  “So, River Styx, how does it feel to be legally grown?” Ever since I got into Blackstone, Brooks had started calling me River Styx. Since The Styx River was the boundary between the living and the dead in Greek mythology, Brooks likened me to the boundary between the gods at Blackstone and the mortals in Dayton. I touched both worlds.

  Or maybe both worlds touched me.

  “I feel exactly like I did yesterday,” I answered. “Tire as fuck.” Everyone knew the hours I put in at Blackstone and at the auto shop. They knew exactly what I meant.

  “You’re going to tire yourself out before you even get a chance to change the world,” he chided.

  I laughed. “I’ll be sure to take some me-time soon, Mom.”

  He threw a piece of broccoli at me.

  And then, I saw it.

  My eyes widened, and I never would have thought it.

  I dropped my barbecued rib, wiped my fingers clean, and waved my finger back and forth between Brooks and Ivy. “Uh, want to tell me what’s going on between you two?” Brooks face turned beet red while Ivy just rolled her eyes. “I saw that.”

  “Saw what?” Dav
ion asked.

  My eyes narrowed until Brooks started singing like a canary. “What’s the big deal?”

  “Saw what?” Davion repeated.

  I leaned back and grinned. “His arm stretching in a way that told me he put his hand on Ivy’s leg,” I said, ratting them out.

  “Right in front of me?” Davion complained with a moan. “I was in love with you, Ivy.”

  The guys started laughing while Ivy let out a snort. “You play Fantasy Football. It never would have worked.”

  “A man can change, you know,” he countered, and the shit had me cracking up. Even Brooks was grinning.

  Ivy shook her head. “Brooks is strong enough to shoulder all my crazy,” she told him, then shrugged her shoulders. “You just don’t have it in you, Davion.”

  I really started laughing when Davion took offense. “That’s not true,” he argued. “Do you know how many crazy bitches I deal with on the regular?” Ivy choked on her potato chip and Brooks’ arm reached out to thump her on the back.

  Shit was just about fucking perfect.

  I had the biggest grin on my face when I looked over and caught Claire smiling at me. I smiled back and really wished there were something more between us than satisfying sex. Claire was the kind of girl who’d support her man through anything. She was loyal, kind, and so down to fucking earth. Plus, she had a life. She wasn’t clingy or demanding. With golden blonde hair, soft blue eyes, a trimmed body, and legs for days, she was the entire package. I was already tall at six-foot-two, so Claire’s five-seven worked perfectly for us when we were together.

  But when I looked at her, all I saw was a great friend I wouldn’t give up for anything. I saw a girl who used to sit on the sidewalk and play with her dolls as Ivy would race us boys on our bikes for a hard-earned win.

  Claire was safe.

  Unfortunately, safe didn’t make my heart race or my palms sweat.

  Chapter 5

  Grace~

  I’ve put it off long enough.

  The thought was nauseating, but I knew I couldn’t really turn over a new leaf until I atoned for all the wrong I’ve done, not just the easy, minor offenses.

  I needed to face all my demons, no matter how painful, how nerve-wracking, or how humiliating.

  In my lifetime, I’ve not been a nice person. I’ve done things I wasn’t proud of and wished I could undo. I’ve been unkind and belittling. I’ve been self-absorbed and arrogant. I’ve judged people and situations I didn’t have a right to. I was really raised to believe I was better than other people and that my actions would always be justified on account of my last name.

  Leah Moffet killing herself knocked my entire world of its axis and almost transformed me and my stupid beliefs overnight.

  I’ve been reckless with my words and my actions, and that wasn’t okay.

  It had never been okay.

  The worse part? I’ve always known it wasn’t okay. I’ve just never felt that it wasn’t okay. Other people’s suffering had never affected me on a person level before, so I had ignored it because I’d never felt compelled to do anything about it.

  But I felt it now.

  I felt it all.

  Living in Wakefield and going to Blackstone Prep, I’d been sheltered from family tragedy. I’d never been around someone who was depressed or had serious emotional issues. Most of the kids attending Blackstone had the money for therapy, medication, or, sadly, abortions. And even though Leah’s family had been just as wealthy as the rest of us, she had wanted more.

  She had wanted to be one of us.

  She had wanted to be one of us, and we weren’t worth it. But I was working on that now. Sterling had said we weren’t responsible for weak people, but we were responsible for ourselves and how our actions affect the weak people around us.

  We were responsible for ourselves period.

  I took a deep breath and willed my hands to stop shaking. We had first period together, so I knew I could find him there, but I wanted a chance to talk to him without ears all around us. I wasn’t kidding myself into believing that this was going to be anything other than ugly, but I wanted to tone down the humiliation as much as possible. I knew where his locker was, and I also knew he might be there with his friend, Davion Black, but that couldn’t be helped. And though he’d never believe me, I’ve paid attention to Styx Reinhart.

  I’ve always paid attention to him.

  I met Styx the summer before our sophomore year of high school. He’d been going to Dayton High while I was already at Blackstone, naturally. There had been a summer program for musicians and my mother had thought it a good idea to send me.

  It hadn’t been.

  I had absolutely no musical talent, but because Caroline Streetport’s daughter had started taking up the violin, and she had been magnificent at it-according to Caroline-my mother hadn’t liked feeling as if Caroline and her daughter had one-upped us. So, she had enrolled me into this summer program, no matter how many times my brother and I had told her it was a waste of time.

  However, even though my musical talent had been lacking, it hadn’t been a waste of my time. After all, it’s where I had met Styx Reinhart.

  I’ll never forget the time I first saw him. It’s burned into the back of my mind like an animal branding. It’s one of the most beautiful moments of my life, and I was pretty sure it was destined to haunt me for the rest of my life.

  It had been my first day of the program and I had gotten lost in the building. Because the program had been open to the entire public, it had been held in one of the Dayton’s recreational centers. Having never been to one, I’d gotten lost fairly quickly and had been stumbling my way through the hallways, looking for where the violinists were gathered, because, of course, if Caroline Streetport’s daughter was rocking the violin, so did I. Never mind that I’d never held a violin or any musical instrument, really. Never mind that my playlists were full of nothing but hip-hop and pop music. Never mind that I was more likely to stab myself in the eye with the violin blow than create a musical masterpiece.

  So, there I was, lost like an idiot, when I had heard the first chords of a piano in play. I had originally stopped, figuring I could go into the room and ask the person playing if he or she knew where the violinists were gathered, but the more keys that were played, the more enthralled I had become with the music. I had heard people describe music as beautiful, but I hadn’t really known what they meant until that day.

  I had stood outside the door that had been cracked open just a bit and had just listened. I had no idea what was being played, if it were some classical piece or original music, but it had given me goosebumps and I had felt the notes deep in the pit of my stomach.

  When I couldn’t take it any longer, I had pushed the door open, and the sight before me had to be the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. A boy too stunning to be real had been sitting at a piano, his eyes closed, his hard body flowing with immense energy, and magic floating all around him.

  I wasn’t sure how long I had been standing there, staring at him, but all too soon, the music had ended, and his eyes had snapped open. Whiskey-colored eyes that were shades lighter than the dark brown hair on his head had pierced me where I stood. Already seeing his face, I knew he was gorgeous, but with his eyes opened, he had transcended gorgeous into breathtaking.

  He hadn’t said anything and had just stared at me until I had blurted out that I was lost and looking for the violinists. Instead of berating me for intruding, he had smiled, and, in that moment, I had believed in love at first sight.

  We had ended up becoming friends, and he would let me hide out with him when the other students would complain that their ears were bleeding thanks to my unparallel violin skills. I had spent most of that summer sitting with Styx, just listening to him master instrument after instrument. He was a musically gifted and it had been a real privilege to hear him play.

  And then, one day, we had become more.

  And then, one day, he had walked up
to me on the first day of school, our sophomore year, telling me he was now enrolled in Blackstone, and I had told him that he’d been good enough for a summer fling, but what would my friends think if I had actually taken him seriously.

  He’s never spoken to me since.

  Over the years, we’ve had several classes together, but I became a ghost to him that day, and with good reason. He’s never spoken to me or has even made eye contact with me these past few years. I didn’t exist for him, and I didn’t blame him. And if anyone was owed an apology for my past behavior, it was Styx.

  Even if I know he won’t accept my apology or ever forgive me.

  I gathered all the courage I could summon and headed towards his locker. As I suspected, he was getting his things from his locker, but, luckily, he was alone. I didn’t see Davion anywhere. I knew he hung out with Brett Marion and Lauren Holder, too, but he was mostly always with Davion.

  With my stomach threatening to purge itself and my hands still shaking, I walked up and waiting for him to shut his locker. When he did, and saw me standing so close, he reared back as if I had burned him. His eyes flew over my face in wild surprise, but he didn’t say anything.

  My mouth felt dry, but I knew I needed to say something.

  I needed to try to make this right.

  “Uhm…” My chest started heaving, and panic was a real threat on the horizon. “Uhm…hey…”

  Styx masked his surprise and back was his stony expression. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

  I flinched.

  I couldn’t help it.

  But his harsh reception was no less than I deserved. Hell, I deserved worse.

  Way worse.

  “I…I was ho…hoping w…we could talk,” I stuttered foolishly. I’d never been less than confident, and the comparison to what Leah might have been feeling, wanting to belong so badly, almost brought tears to my eyes.

  Styx let out a dark, ugly laugh. “Talk?” His lip curled in utter disdain. “What in the fuck would we have to talk about?”