Just Drop Out (A High School Bully Romance): Hannaford Prep Year One

by J Bree

  Just Drop Out

  Hannaford Prep Year One

  J Bree

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Acknowledgments

  Author Bio

  Copyright © 2019 by J Bree

  ASIN: B07SYK15ZF

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof

  may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever

  without the express written permission of the publisher

  except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  For Raine Florence and River Frances

  Prologue

  The forest at the edge of the Mounts Bay, California, city limits are well known for being haunted.

  The kids at the local high school have spent generations whispering about the bodies buried in shallow graves, waiting for the wolves to scent them and dig them up for food. There’s even more legends about the souls that walk amongst the towering redwoods. It’s quiet, not silent, but compared to the ever present sounds of traffic and human experience it’s eerie and adds to the haunted feel.

  While I don’t believe in ghosts, I can feel the souls that linger here.

  It’s probably just my guilty conscious giving me the heebie jeebies as I look over the corpse of my opponent. His blood is still fresh on my hands, cold and congealed, and I wipe them down my jeans uselessly. My clothes are just as stained as my hands, even my face is spattered with the red stains of his life ending. I look like something out of a horror movie which is about right considering I’ve just bashed a man’s skull in with a rock while a whole crowd of people looked on in sick fascination. There isn’t a person watching that dares to make a noise. The vise-like grip of the Club holds their tongues.

  I’m not afraid of being caught.

  I’m small for my age, years of food insecurity have taken their toll, and I was the youngest contender in the Game this season. None of that matters though, I’ve won. I’ve beaten thirty men and teenage boys to take the victory and the spoils of this war.

  I stumble towards the men at the perimeter of the fighting ring. They’re all cloaked in black, hard looks on their faces and black ink etched over their cheeks. My hands tremble at the thought of wearing those same marks. The marks of the Twelve. But I’ve earned them. I’ve earnt the right to stand with them and be one of them.

  To be free.

  “Congratulations, you’ve won the Game.” the Jackal speaks and I shiver at the cold tones of his voice, so unlike the warmth he usually extends to me.

  I nod my head. I want this over with. I want a hot meal and an even hotter shower.

  “Welcome to the Twelve. You’re replacing the Hawk. Who do you choose to be?”

  Free. I guess a hawk is a good embodiment of freedom but it feels strange to take a dead man's name, like climbing into his bed with the sheets still warm. I look around at the other men that make up the Twelve. Their names are what they’re known as on the streets, what their gangs cover themselves with as protection and a warning. I could have that too. I could make myself a queen of my own empire. I could rule the streets and never go hungry again.

  I could escape the cycle of poverty my mother has left me in.

  My eyes land back on the Jackal and I lift my chin until I no longer feel like I’m looking up at him.

  “I am the Wolf.”

  Chapter One

  The boy on the stand was so gorgeous it was hard to look directly at his face.

  Instead, I looked at his hands as they clench tightly where they rest on his lap. There were dozens of other teenagers in the room but I couldn't look away from him for long before I am drawn back to him, a moth to a stunning flame. He has broad shoulders and big arms, like he works out more than regularly. His hands are big and strong. I like the look of those hands. The more I look at them the more I imagine what they would feel like on my skin. I imagine them stroking over my arms, my neck, cupping my face and pulling me in against his chest, tilting my head back. A flush settles over my skin. Who is this guy? How has the mere sight of him turned me into a babbling mess?

  I can look as far as his neck without breaking out in a sweat and as the trial drags on I manage to make out the script tattoo on his neck. The words ‘honor before blood’ are tucked under his chin, the black ink stark against his pale skin. He has to be a gangster but that doesn’t suit his fair looks at all. He looks as though he has never done a hard days work in his life, his sandy hair is messed artfully and his nose is straight and unmarred. The tattoo tucked under his jaw is the only suggestion that he’s not a pampered model. When the judge reads out his case and he says the guy is my age and no boy of fifteen gets ink like that unless they're already out on the streets.

  When I spot the Rolex on his wrist I realize he must be a drug dealer. It’s like a cold bucket of ice over my lustful body. Drug dealers are scum and I do not want to admire him anymore. I am doing everything in my power to get away from drugs and the people that peddle them. It doesn’t matter how drawn I felt to this guy. I look away and resist the pull of his stunning looks.

  The courthouse we are trapped in is a converted historic building that had been built by convicts. The district of Mounts Bay is small enough that court proceedings are held twice a week. All of the children's cases are held here in the morning and then the adults are brought through in the afternoon. My case was supposed to start half an hour ago but the beautiful dealer is arguing belligerently with the judge and taking up more than his allocated time slot.

  What a dick.

  His rap sheet isn’t great but it also isn’t violent which made me feel slightly better about ogling him.

  Car theft. Breaking and entering. Violating a work order.

  Clearly it isn’t his first time in this building. I glance up at him again, I can’t help myself, and I can see how bored and unaffected his eyes are, like this is all such an inconvenience to him and his time. I want to roll my eyes but once again I’m transfixed.

  “You ready, kid?” my social worker interrupts my staring and I startle. She’s looking at me like I’m fragile again and I don’t know how to tell her that I’m easily the strongest person in this room. You don’t survive what I have without becoming bulletproof. I have five pins holding one of my legs together to prove it.

  I’m the Wolf of Mounts Bay and I can survive anything.

  The gangster kid steps down from the stand and it’s my turn.

  As he walks down the stairs we cross paths. I force myself to look up at him. His face is a mask of disinterest and apathy but my breath catches in my throat when I see his eyes. The icy blue depths pull me in and I feel like I’m drowning. He’s angry. He’s hiding it well but he looks at me and I can see the burning pits of hell in his eyes. This guy is one step away from being a ki
ller. I shiver. I should not find that attractive or exciting. But, fuck me, I do. It’s my curse for being a loyal supporter of the Jackal.

  He doesn’t seem to notice me the way I notice him and it makes sense. I’m not stunning. I’m not the most gorgeous girl in the room. I’m just trying to get by, skate under the radar and make it through to adulthood. I take the stand.

  Unlike him I’m not here to defend myself from my own mistakes.

  If I were I'd probably be locked up. The things I’ve done to get here, to have a chance at freedom, they will follow me for the rest of my life. But that doesn't matter. Act by act, brick by brick, I’ve built my way here and now I’ll get what I’ve sacrificed so much for.

  I’m claiming my freedom.

  It’s time to put away the empty, cold shell I had to become to survive. I don’t know who the new version of myself will be but I’m ready to find out.

  Two months later

  “This is your last chance to make any requests of the state before you are officially emancipated and on your own.”

  Heather has her eyebrow cocked at me like I'm being dense for not having anything to say but honestly I’m torn between being afraid of saying goodbye to her and wanting her to leave so I can start my new life.

  We're standing outside of Hannaford Preparatory Academy and the building looms over us like a ghoul. It looks more like a castle than a school and there are honest to god turrets and an incomplete moat surrounding the building. There’s a bronzed statue of a light horseman in the gardens. The school was built in the 1800’s and boasts many presidents and political savants as alumni. The extra-curricular roster includes an equestrian program and an olympic level swim team. It has a near perfect college acceptance rate from the students who walked these halls and the waiting list to get in was the stuff of legends. Looking at the building alone makes me feel so intimidated that I consider getting back in the car.

  A tingle runs down my spine at the thought of going back to my old school and I turn back to my social worker. Huh, ex-social worker now. The tingle turns into a shiver and takes over me despite the warmth still in the air.

  “I’m fine. I understand all of my rights, I've done the mandatory counseling, and I'm ready to be a big girl out in the world.”

  She snorts, then hands me my case files and the enrollment forms for the head office. She's a brusque sort of woman, not maternal at all, and I think that's why we get along so well. It's weird to think I won't see her again. I’ve gotten used to listening to the comforting southern tones of her voice.

  “You ain't ready for shit, kid. I've left your emergency line on a card in your files if you get into trouble but you're off my roster now. Try to do well at your fancy school and stay off the streets.”

  What a glowing statement of confidence. I think about giving her a hug but decide against it and instead I give her a small wave. She gets back in the car and I watch as she drives away. For a second I feel a flare of panic in my chest but I quickly push that away. It doesn't matter that I'm alone now. I don't need anyone but myself, if my life so far has proven anything to me it is that I am strong enough to survive anything.

  Once the car is no longer in view I grab the small satchel that holds all of my belongings and head up the cobble stone path towards the main building. It’s like a fairy tale here and if I believed in such things it probably would have felt like a good omen.

  There are students everywhere, the entire grounds are teeming with teenagers and I'm getting a ton of curious looks. I try not to let it get to me and I walk up to the office. When I make it, huffing and puffing under the weight of my bag, the door is being held open by a group of teenagers and it clear they're closely related. They're all dark haired, blue eyed, and their facial features look as though that were carved from marble by a master artist. The older boy is smirking at the front desk and the other two, a boy and a girl, are looking at him despondently, glassy eyed and utterly bored. None of them spare me so much as a glance.

  “Yvette, I really don't care what your policies are, I'm not sharing with Ash. Put Avery in with him, they're attached at the hip anyway.”

  The receptionist, a lush woman who is at the very least in her forties, gives him a firm look but he clearly doesn't care. His shoulders are broad and tight under his blazer. He looks like he’s poised and ready to strike. I press my back against the wall out of habit, a lesson learned years ago. When there’s danger in the room you don’t leave your back unguarded.

  “Mr. Beaumont, as you well know it is against school policy for there to be co-ed rooms, even amongst siblings.”

  He sneers at he and spits out, “I am not sharing. Who do I have to write the cheque out to? You will give me a single room.”

  I scoff at that but then Yvette is pulling out a ledger and he's handing over a shiny black credit card. This is my first clue at how truly messed up this school’s moral code is.

  “And who, exactly, are you?” The girl, Avery, says and I startle when I realize she's talking to me.

  “Lips. Lips Anderson. I'm a freshman.”

  A smile dances around the edge of her painted lips but her eyes aren’t amused.

  “What sort of degenerate names their child Lips?” the boy drawls and, weirdly, it makes me feel kind of boneless. He turns to face me and I’m struck dumb by the sight of him. That is until I see the disgust of his face. He looks at me like I'm a venereal disease. I choose not to answer him and push away from the wall. I brush past the group to pile all of my paperwork up on the desk, feigning confidence even though I'm kind of shaky. Is the whole school full of gorgeous, rich assholes? The older sibling looks down his nose at me as well before he turns on his heel and stalks out, presumably to go find his new single room. The receptionist ignores me and turns soft eyes onto the remaining boy.

  “I'm so sorry, I assumed you would want to share with your brother, Ash. Do you want a single too? I have a spare in the boys dorms.”

  He smiles and his whole face changes. My breath catches in my chest and I take note. This boy can use his looks as a weapon and he very clearly knows it.

  “Actually, I'd rather share with Mr. Arbour and Mr. Morrison if that's possible? I know there's some triple rooms and we’re probably the best candidates in our year to bunk together.”

  Yvette blushes and stumbles over her words. She's quick to take his bait and it's hard not to roll my eyes.

  “Oh, the triple rooms aren't for boys of your breeding or stature. They're for the lower families.”

  Lower families? Sweet lord, here we go. I assume with just how low my family is I'll be in the damn basement. That suits me just fine.

  “I insist. I need to keep a close eye on them both and make sure there isn't a repeat of last year.” He winks and Yvette nearly swoons.

  I glance over and see Avery watching the entire exchange with molten fury in her eyes. I think for a minute she's pissed at her brother and then she reaches out gently and clasps his hand. He doesn't look back at his sister but he gives her hand a quick squeeze. She doesn’t like that he’s being forced to flirt with this woman, she’s protective of him.

  “Are there singles available in the girls dorms?” His voice is back to the drawl. Yvette checks some papers in front of her and smiles.

  “Avery is already in one of the singles. There's two available and I popped her straight in it. Your twin called me earlier and…expressed her desires.”

  Her hesitation seems totally out of place and when she looks at Avery there's fear in her eyes. I make a note of that too and file the information away.

  “Lovely. Thank you, Yvette.”

  The twins leave with another look my way and then Yvette turns to give me a once over.

  “I'm assuming you’re the scholarship student?” Jeez, if only I looked like Ash I might have gotten a better welcome. I smile despite her tone and offer her my hand to shake.

  “Eclipse Anderson. I prefer Lips though.”

  She ignores my hand, gives
me a hard look, and takes my paperwork.

  “Scholarship students are a handful already and now we have an emancipated student? I'll warn you that this school is held to the highest standard of morals and you will be expected to behave in an exemplary manner.” she says, like she wasn't just getting hot and heavy over a teenage boy.

  I make sure my face is a mask of polite obedience and nod along with her. You don't survive foster care as well as I have without being able to lie a little.

  “You are also being put in a single. There was some upset about your lodging amongst the other students.”

  “Upset?” I raise my eyebrows at her tone.

  “These are girls of very prestigious families and they have some serious concerns about sharing with a girl with your…reputation.”

  What the hell? “What exactly is my reputation?”

  “We’ve had a few run ins with Mounts Bay High girls before which has led to strict rules about how our students spend their time outside of Hannaford. There are concerns for the safety of the students and their property.”

  I flush scarlet and clench my teeth together so hard I might crack them. I'm about to tell this woman where to shove her opinions when the door to the principal's office opens and Mr. Trevelen steps out. His eyes light up when he spots me and he lets out a long exhale.

  Mr. Trevelen was responsible for awarding scholarships and he personally interviewed me at the end of my last school year. He had sat in the care house I was stuck in and listened to my entire life story like he actually gave a damn about helping me. Even with my great marks I had been turned down for other scholarships because of my living situation and family history so I knew he had gone out on a limb for me.