More Than A Bully: North Woods University Books 1-3

by J. L. Beck

  Grabbing my plate, I stomp to the trashcan and dump the rest of my food into the garbage before throwing my plate in the sink. It lands with a loud clack, most likely breaking. Hell, it wouldn’t be the first time I broke something in this house in a fit of rage.

  “Your pancakes taste like shit, just like the fucking lies that you spew,” I yell, turning around to face her, to drive the knife a little deeper. Her shocked face peers up at me, and my fingers curl into the countertop. It’s either I grab this, or her, and I don’t want to touch her, not right now. Not with this much anger, this much madness spiraling out of control inside of me.

  I lean into her, ignoring her scent and the fear that circulates through her eyes. She needs to know that I fucking mean what I say, she needs to know that I’ll only ever hate her. Always.

  “Just tell me, Vance.” Her bottom lip juts out and it looks like she’s about to cry. She’s begging me to tell her what happened, but she already knows. She’s the one that did this, not me. The sound of my name falling from her lips sends me over the edge and I release my hold on the countertop and instead grip her by the chin, pulling her forcefully into my face.

  “Oh, how the mighty fall. One day you had it all and now you have nothing… it’s strange how the tables turn, how one lie can make an entire world crumble overnight.” My lip curls with hate, her tiny hand clasping onto my wrist in an effort to get me to release my hold. But I’m not done yet, not by a long fucking shot.

  “You might be able to shed some tears and get other people to feel sorry for you with that look, but believe me when I say this, you’ll never get an ounce of pity from me. You deserve everything you’ve got and everything that’s coming to you!” I release her like she truly has the power to destroy me and stomp out of the room before I do something I can’t take back.

  My intentions have always been to hurt her, to break her down, to show her that she’s nothing, but having her here, smelling her sweet scent all around me, feeling her skin, it’s almost like she’s hurting me instead of me hurting her. And I can’t let that happen. She’s already owned too much of me, of my thoughts, of my past. I’m Vance Preston. I lost my heart years ago, because of a lie that destroyed my family, because of a threat that wasn’t true.

  Had she told the truth...had she never made me out to be the criminal then maybe I wouldn’t be the man I am today. Maybe there wouldn’t be a gaping wound inside my chest, maybe I wouldn’t need to taste her fear, to feel her pain.

  Maybe we would be more than enemies.

  Or maybe we wouldn’t.

  32

  Ava

  It’s the dreaded first day of school and I try not to dwell on the fact that my mom still hasn’t returned from her honeymoon. Or that my dad still hasn’t called me, or that Vance still seems to hate my entire existence.

  At least he’s ignored me for the last few days, sticking mainly to his bedroom. It’s much nicer than him actively trying to hurt me and make me uncomfortable. Living with him is like living with a ticking time bomb. There’s a constant ball of anxious anxiety inside of me and I hate it. I never know what to expect with him… is he going to hurl an insult at me, or is he going to hug me like he did the night he got drunk?

  I wear the least eye-catching attire I have. A pair of skinny jeans and free-flowing blouse that hangs off one shoulder. It’s cute, but it’s not going to draw every single eye to me. I hope. I leave an hour before my first class is scheduled to start, and chew on a granola bar on the way there. I didn’t dare to ask Vance if we could ride together so I’m taking the Honda that was parked in the garage to class.

  I’m avoiding my tormentor at all cost. The last thing I want is for us to have another duel. I’m hoping if I stay out of his way, he’ll stay out of mine and that when our parents get back, we can forget about the verbal sparring we did while they were gone.

  When I get to campus, I park in one of the student parking areas and get out my class schedule and the map I printed out. Then I’m off my Converse-covered feet beating across the pavement. It doesn’t take me long to find the building I need to be in, and once I do, I find a small bench just outside the building and get out my biology book, flipping through the first few pages.

  My eyes skim over the material, and I suck in as much knowledge as I can so I’m prepared for what’s to come. To most kids, college is a drunken sex fest, where you grow, and make friends, but not to me. To me, college is my way out… my key to getting the fuck away from all the people that don’t care about me.

  After a few minutes of studying, other college students start to appear, walking past me, they’re lost in conversation, laughing and smiling. Someone opens the door to the building a moment later and I get up from the bench and walk down the sidewalk and inside. I take a seat in the back, spreading my stuff out on the table. A second later, a girl comes walking in and takes a seat to my left, situating her books in a similar fashion.

  The air in my chest halts. I notice right away that her book looks different from mine.

  My gaze narrows in on the book.

  The cover reads Abnormal Psychology. Quickly, while trying not to draw any attention to myself, I look around the classroom and realize that all the students, at least the ones in this classroom, have that same psychology book.

  I swallow down the panic that’s creeping in on me and turn to the girl beside me.

  “Hey, can you tell me what class this is?”

  “Psych 301,” she says and graces me with a soft smile.

  “Thanks,” I mumble before grabbing all my things and speed walking out of the room. I look at the building number on my way out to make sure it is building nine and it is. I double check my class schedule and the map again.

  According to it, I’m at the right building, and in the right class, but the book I have doesn’t match the class I was just in.

  What the actual hell? Panic turns into confusion as I look up and when I spot two guys walking toward me, I know I need to ask for help.

  “Hey, can I ask a question?” I fiddle with the strap of my backpack nervously. I’m not this open with people, but I’m beyond confused and don’t want to risk missing all my classes for the day because I can’t figure out where the hell I’m going.

  “Most definitely,” one of the guys answers in a flirty tone. He’s cute, in an all-American boy way.

  “Do either of you happen to know where the nine AM biology class is?”

  One of the guys rubs at his scruffy chin as if he’s thinking, while his friend elbows him in the side and answers me.

  “Biology is usually in building two.” He hooks a thumb pointing in the direction behind him. Motherfucking shit.

  “Okay, thanks,” I mumble, returning my attention back down to the map. My gaze roams over the map key and all the buildings. When my eyes lock on the number two, I curse.

  “Shit!” I tilt my head back and look up at the blue sky. Why, why does the world have to shit on me? Building two is all the way across campus. It’s going to take me forever to get there, but since I had to park pretty far away, I think I’m still better off on foot than driving and trying to find a spot to park again.

  Exhaling a frustrated sigh, I swing my bag over my shoulder and start running down the sidewalk to the other buildings, my feet slapping against the concrete. I probably look like a crazy lunatic, as I hurry past everyone in my way. By the time I get to the building, I’m ten minutes late, sweating like a whore in church and completely out of breath.

  Just how I wanted to start my morning, stinky and late.

  The room is packed, but somehow, I manage to find a seat. Whispers meet my ears, some quiet, some loud, but I don’t pay anyone an ounce of attention.

  The rest of the class I spend frazzled and feel as if I’m trying to play catch up. I hate being late. Hate it. It ruins my day and gets me off schedule. Maybe it’s a form of OCD, but when it comes to being somewhere, I’m always on time. Always. I end up dropping my pencil twice, and mi
sspelling words left and right. My notes end up in the wrong notebook, and now I’ll have to copy them into the right one.

  Something is wrong with me.

  After what seems like an eternity, the professor releases us. I gather up my things and walk out looking for my next class, which luckily doesn’t start for another half an hour. Hopefully this time I can be on time, and in the right room.

  My class schedule says it’s in building five, but when I walk over to the sign, it says Administration Building. I clench my jaw, a low simmering anger rippling through me. Why would my English literature class be in the admin building?

  Vance. It hits me then. He must’ve done this, done something with my classes. There’s no other explanation for it. When I got my class schedule, all my classes matched up with the books that I bought, but the classes on my schedule now, don’t.

  Stupid, Vance. He thinks he can mess with me. I kick at the pavement out of anger and stub my toe. Jesus. I’ll find a way to get him back, but for now, I need to fix the problem that he’s caused. Walking inside the building, I peer around, trying to find someone who can help me. It’s the first day of school you would think this building would be the busiest of all, but it seems it’s the most vacant.

  There’s no one sitting at the front office, instead there’s a sign that says OUT in big bold letters. Who works in an admin building at a college and just doesn’t show up for their job? It’s not lunch time, so what does the out mean? Shaking my head in frustration because today has already been a clusterfuck, I walk down the long hallway looking for someone, anyone.

  Out of nowhere, a door opens right in front of me, and I almost run into it face first.

  “Oh, sh— I’m sorry…” the guy who almost hit me with his door says, his eyes finding mine. They’re a vivid blue, so blue that for a moment I forget what the hell it is that I’m doing.

  “Are you okay? Are you hurt?” His deep baritone voice breaks the trance and I find my voice through the fog.

  “Yes, I’m fine…well, besides this... it seems the building numbers on my class schedule are messed up. I ended up in the wrong building and then late for my first class because I had to run across campus.” I blow out a frustrated sigh. It’s not his fault, I know that, but I can’t help but vent.

  “Why don’t you come into my office and I’ll see if I can help you with that,” he says, holding the door open for me. I walk in and take the seat at the front of his desk. It holds a little metal plague that says S. Miller, Dean’s Assistant. Looking at him, he doesn’t seem to be much older than me, and though I know it’s none of my business, I wonder how he got into a position like this.

  I hand him the piece of paper as he sits down in the chair on the other side of the desk. I take him in, he’s handsome, young, and could pass for a student that goes here. His eyes glance over the paper his eyebrows pointing down, his features turning serious.

  “I think someone was trying to play a prank on you.” He frowns a moment later.

  His assumption isn’t just correct it’s spot-the-fuck-on. “Yeah, I figured as much…my stepbrother thinks stuff like this is funny. This is my first day here and I missed move-in day and orientation so I have no idea where anything is. Figures he would turn my first day of classes into a real-life nightmare.”

  “Ah, brothers of all kinds can be a pain in the ass. I have two. I know all about it, and I’m the middle child so I have to deal with both at the same time.”

  I’m only slightly surprised by his use of words, after all, he isn’t much older than me.

  “Let’s turn your crap day into a better one. I’ll print you the right schedule right now and you can get back to your classes, hopefully on time.”

  He types some stuff into the computer, his long fingers stroking over the keys. A second later, a soft knock sounds on the door, making us both look up. The door, which wasn’t closed all the way, swings open a few inches, revealing a woman my age.

  “Oh, gosh. I’m sorry I didn’t know there was anyone in here,” she apologizes, her cheeks tinting pink as if she’s embarrassed or something.

  “It’s fine, you can come in, Jules.” He waves his hand, motioning for her to walk in, a smile on his lips.

  “This is…” He looks down at the paper in his hand. “Ava. She’s new, today is her first day. Maybe you could show her around campus? From the sound of things she’s not having a very good time.” A soft chuckle passes his lips and I wouldn’t be surprised if he has women throwing themselves at him. I swing my gaze back to the girl, Jules as he called her, feeling sorry that he put her on the spot like that. She doesn’t seem to be bothered by it though and graces me with a bright smile.

  “Sure, I would love to,” she answers, the genuineness of her tone telling me she isn’t lying. “When is your next class?”

  I blink. “In twenty minutes…but if you’re busy. I mean, I’d understand if you can’t do it. If you have something else that you needed to do—” I try to give her a way out, but she shakes her head the mass of blonde ringlet curls bounces with the movement.

  “No way Jose. I have plenty of time, most of my classes are in the evening and only a few times a week. Plus anyone that’s a friend of Seb’s, is a friend of mine.”

  Friend? I don’t know if we’re friends. It’s kinda his job to help me, though he certainly doesn’t have to be nice to me while he does it.

  “Oh okay…” I smile, feeling a little better knowing that I won’t be burdening her. The last thing I want is to make her feel like she has to help me. I’m used to doing things on my own. I’ve done it this way for three years, and if she couldn’t help me, then I would have figured it out myself. I’m a big girl, as Vance would say.

  “How about I take you to your next class and maybe later we can get some coffee and I can show you around the rest of the campus?”

  “That would be great,” I sigh. It really, really would. I need this, so much, so much more than I want to admit.

  “Perfect!” she exclaims, her eyes moving back to Mr. Miller. “I’ll call you later, Sebastian.”

  “Tell Rem I said hi, and that he should show his face more than once a week,” Mr. Miller teases, and I get the feeling that these two know each other on a personal level.

  “Will do. He’s been buried in homework lately,” Jules responds.

  “Homework, you say?” He lifts a thick brow and grins before averting his eyes back to the computer. Jules’ cheeks heat, and she nibbles on her bottom lip. Oh, yes, these two definitely know each other, and whoever Rem is, he’s with Jules. It doesn’t take Sebastian long to get my schedule printed and send me out the door.

  Jules walks me to class and for once, I feel like I might have made a good choice with coming to school here. She tells me about her boyfriend Remington, and how Mr. Miller is actually Sebastian, and Remington’s brother. She asks me a few questions about myself that I answer with a vague response. I don’t want anyone to know how fucked up my situation is. Everyone has problems, that doesn’t mean we need to broadcast them.

  “Here, let me text you. Then later, when you finish up classes for the day, we can meet up. Oh, and if you have any questions, give me a call. I’ll help you however I can. I know all too well what it’s like to be the new girl.” She smiles and makes me feel like there is more to her story. I rattle off my number and she sends me a quick text, my phone signaling the incoming message from my pocket.

  “Thank you, and I truly do mean it. It was very nice of you to… to do this.” My thanks is awkward, but Jules doesn’t say anything about it. She just gives me a soft smile and then a hug, as if she knows how badly I need to be hugged right now.

  “It gets easier. I promise,” she whispers into my ear before releasing me. I really hope she’s right, because if it gets worse, I’m not sure what the hell I’m going to do. Vance successfully ruined the start of my first day of classes. I guess there was a silver lining in all of this. I had made my first friend. I bet Vance Preston wasn�
��t expecting that to happen.

  My next three classes fly by and before I realize it, it’s the afternoon and I haven’t eaten a thing, the rumbling of my stomach providing proof.

  Rubbing the organ, I promise to feed it as soon as possible and head toward a coffee shop I saw on the corner while leaving one of my classes earlier. Fishing my phone from my pocket, I check the time, that one single distraction sends me colliding into another body, or brick wall. Before I can stop it, I’m tumbling backward, my ass cushioning my fall as I land hard against the sidewalk. Pain radiates up my spine at the impact.

  “Watch where you’re going,” said body sneers, but as soon as I hear the icy tone of his voice, I know who it is that just sent me falling to my ass.

  And the universe just keeps shitting on me.

  “Sorry,” I mumble, shoving up from the ground, ass aching as I do. I drag my eyes up his stupidly gorgeous body, stopping on his arrogant face. Tight jaw, firm lips, piercing eyes that look like daggers are growing inside of them.

  Yup, that’s Vance Preston. Brooding, angry, and with a chip the size of Texas on his shoulder. I hate that I find him attractive, while also wanting to sucker punch him in the throat. While most chicks throw themselves at him, I just want to throw shit at him.

  “Heard you were in the dean’s office earlier.” His eyes narrow. “Did you use that thing between your legs to get your schedule changed or something?”

  First, how the hell did he know I was in the dean’s office, does he have eyes everywhere?

  And two, why is he referring to my vagina as a thing, while accusing me of whoring myself out to get a schedule change.

  Taking a step back, I crane my neck up at him. “Excuse me?”

  I’m not even shocked to hear him talk so shitty about me, but I am shocked that he would do so in such a public place. Then again, he probably doesn’t care what people think about him, not that it matters since no one would dare say something so vile to him.