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

by J Bree

  “Miss Anderson, what a relief you've made it here safely! I had some concerns after the Academy car was declined by your guardian.”

  I smile and readjust the bag strap on my shoulder.

  “I think she just wanted to be nosey and see the school up close.”

  The entire school property was surrounded by an extravagant fence and the ornate gate was electric. I'd been given a keycard to get in which I now hand back to Mr. Trevelen.

  “I won't hold it against her.” he says with a wink, “I have cleared some time from my schedule this morning to walk you to your dorm and then show you around a little. Most of your peers will already know where to go as they have completed an orientation week here during the spring. I wouldn't want you getting lost.”

  Yvette gives me another look but I smile at her sweetly and grab my bags to follow the principal out the door.

  At least I have someone on my side.

  My room is tiny.

  It's at the end of the hall in the girls dorm. I had to walk past all the other large and luxurious suites to get to it so I know it must be a converted closet. Some of the other girls are lounging around the common areas and sniggering behind their hands as I walk past, like it's so funny I've got this room.

  It's the first time in my life I've got a room to myself.

  These spoiled brats have no clue what I've survived and having a room that barely fits my bed in it is not hard. The bed is a double which is another first and there's a small closet that would still fit ten times the clothes I own. I can feel a silly smile tugging at my lips and I fight the urge to squeal.

  I have my own room at the best school in the country.

  I am going to nail this year and then every other year until I graduate. I'm going to go to an Ivy League college on another scholarship and then I'm going to become… actually I haven't figured that out yet. I'm still researching what the highest paid industry is and whether I could work there for forty years without wanting to kill myself.

  I unpack and stash my bags away. I get down on my hands and knees and tap away quietly until I find a suitable wooden board to pull up. It’s easy enough work with my knife and once it’s out I slide the tiny safe I’ve brought with me into the gap. I use some old shirts to stuff the space and hide the hollow crevice from others who would think to tap around then I slide the wood back over it. What the safe held was worth more than my life.

  I've got a text waiting on my phone and I don't have to look at it to see it's Matteo. He's the only person who has my number and, really, he's the last piece of my old life I have left. There's the same icy fingers of fear up my spine as I read his text.

  This town doesn't feel the same without you. Come home soon.

  I snort but there isn't much I can say to him without some sort of consequences.

  Matteo D’Ardo was another foster kid and four years older than me. We had met at school and he had taken me under his wing even before my mom died and I wound up in the system. He was dangerous. More dangerous than any of these rich kids could ever be. They play pretend in their safe little bubble but Matteo was the Jackal. He owned more than my home city, he owned the entire state. In a lot of ways he owned me too.

  Keep me in the loop. I'll be back for the party and trials next summer.

  When the scholarship offer had arrived at the care home I was living in I had made the decision to put aside my life in Mount’s Bay, California, and to take a chance on a better life. The public school I had left behind had a reputation for churning out drug dealers, gangsters, and single mothers. If I didn’t make it at Hannaford Prep my options were limited. I didn’t want to follow Matteo. I didn’t want to settle for a desperate life.

  I shove the phone into my back pocket and head down to the dining hall. The whispers follow me and it's creepy as fuck. It's pretty clear that not only am I not welcome but the other students actively resent me being here. I wonder what exactly the other Mounts Bay students have done to leave this kind of impression.

  The dining hall is a long room that resembles a wide corridor. It’s in the centre of the building so there’s no windows and the room is lit only by massive chandeliers. There’s only room for a single, stretched wooden table that could easily seat two hundred people. Hannaford is very exclusive but I know there must be more students attending than that. At the far end there are teachers already eating but there's gaps everywhere. I only spare the logistics of meal times a moment's thought before I go to stand in line. I get to hear more of the crap that's being said about me. One girl even says I slept with Mr. Trevelen to get the scholarship and I turn to give her a proper glare. The arrogance in this room is astounding. I need to build up a shield to it all, I need to become immune, so I can make it through my time here.

  The food looks incredible and I heap it onto my plate. I'm way too skinny, the type of skinny that only happens after years of food scarcity, and I'm licking my lips at the thought of eating three big meals a day.

  Once my tray is full I start to look for a seat that isn't surrounded by glaring students. I end up at the far end, close to the teachers, with no others students within ten chairs of me. It's actually perfect.

  Until the far door opens and they walk in.

  The twins are flanked by a guy so gorgeous I’m stunned and it takes me a second to realize it's the guy from the courthouse last month. He looks absolutely devastating in his uniform, there are girls frothing left right and centre over him and Ash. Avery is looking down her nose at them all. I notice again that the teachers all eye her like she's a ticking time bomb with their name on it. Interesting.

  I watch them discreetly as I eat, the subtle art of surveillance being something I picked up from my time with the Jackal. Ash is holding two plates and as Avery picks out food he's filling one up for her. It's kind of sweet how close they are, how effortlessly they're taking care of each other. The other boy is laughing and joking with them both but his laugh is dark and twisted like he's making fun of everything around him.

  When they're done they head to the table and a hush falls over the room. I can practically see students praying they decide to sit with them like it'll somehow boost their social status. This school is so weird.

  Avery leads the boys to sit across the table and a few seats down from me. The stunning guy pulls out a chair for her. I know they have no intention of speaking to me so it makes it easier to duck my head and eat, listening to the scraps of conversations around me.

  “Morrison is going to start mid semester, he's still in Europe doing his thing.”

  “Lucky us, we get a reprieve from all of the little shits revelers. If I have to find one more pair of lacy panties stuffed in his door frame I will retire on the spot.”

  The explicit language from a teacher makes me smile but I don't look to see which one said it. What kind of a school is this? I shake my head and try to focus on my dinner. I've never eaten such delicious food in my life and I'm looking forward to the next four years for that alone.

  “I can see the hole from across the table. I'm ordering you a new one so swallow your useless pride.” Avery says and even with the harshness of words her voice is much nicer when it's not directed at me.

  “I don't fucking need a new one. It's a design statement. Leave it be, Floss.”

  The other boy says and even though he's swearing at her I can hear the affection. I can also feel Avery seething.

  “Don't call me that here. And the only statement you’re making is ‘too poor to care’. Do you want a repeat of last year?”

  That's the second reference to something happening last year I've heard and now I'm interested to find out what they're going on about. I glance up and make eye contact with the hot boy by accident. I hold it for a second and then glance away because I don't want to look like I'm scared of his attention even though I'm beginning to sweat in his general proximity. Get ahold of yourself.

  “Who's the new kid?”

  “Lips.” Avery stretches my nam
e out and it sounds so juvenile coming from her. Both boys snigger and I roll my eyes where they can't see. Ash sums up the opinion of me that the whole room has already come to.

  “Who gives a fuck, she's Mounty trash.”

  If only that were true.

  Chapter Two

  If you’re in the top classes at Hannaford they start at 7am which seems to be cruel and unusual torture to me. Why punish the high achievers?

  I sleep like the dead and still I want to ditch my alarm at the wall.

  I manage to get up and look human in my crisp uniform, I even squeeze in the time to put on a little makeup to try and hide the dark marks under my eyes. I don't need to give the other kids any more ammo.

  My scholarship pays for exactly three daily uniforms, two sets of sporting tracksuits, and a formal uniform for representing the school at social functions. This means I have to be very mindful of what happens to these clothes because the school skirt alone cost more than a months worth of groceries.

  The dining hall is basically empty so I get to sit close to the door and stuff my breakfast into my mouth. I wish I had the time to savor the fluffy scrambled eggs and crispy bacon but I'm on a serious time crunch. I hoover it down and then grab an apple on the way out.

  My first class is History and I'm relieved to see a seating plan posted on the door. I'm at the back and sharing with a male student, Harley Arbour. Avery is at the desk in front of us and Ash isn't in the class which is great because I don't want to be called trash this early in the morning. It’s harder to rein my temper in.

  It's like a gut punch when I realize the super hot guy’s name is Harley and I now have to share a desk with him three times a week. He smells incredible, like bergamot and cloves, and I find myself angry at him for it. I have never really taken much notice of guys. I’m not interested in being knocked up and abandoned like my mom was. It was easy enough in Mount’s Bay. All of the guys in my grade had that air of desperation that comes with teenage hormones and poverty. Everyone at that school was living below the poverty line and everyone was going hungry. I couldn’t look at any guy without getting the distinct feeling they just wanted an escape from the bleak hole that was their life. Plus, they all knew I was associated with Matteo. They all steered clear of me.

  None of the boys at Hannaford are desperate. They all have the means to be here, they’ve never struggled for anything, and I quickly learnt that with money comes looks. I’m not saying that only rich people are attractive, I know that’s not the case, but they can all afford to take care of themselves and show their best side everyday. There isn’t a single girl I’ve seen yet that doesn’t look plucked, primped, and plumped to within an inch of their life and all of the guys are sporting Rolexes, coiffed hair, and expensive cologne.

  Harley winces when he sees me at the desk but he sits and methodically empties his bag. His handwriting is much neater than mine and he already has notes from the text book we were assigned. All of this conflicts with the gangster image I had in my head and my eyebrows are raised as I take it all in. He might just be the person to beat in the class.

  “Your name is Eclipse?” His voice drips with venom. Fucking rich boys.

  “What can I say, my parents were hippies.” That's not even close to true but it's an easy lie I've told a hundred times. It's much easier than saying my mom had a conversation with the moon one night and decided to dedicate her unborn child's name to it. That kind of comes with blank stares or worse, they figure out she must have been high. I wonder how many kids can say they spent the first three weeks of their lives detoxing from heroin in a NICU? Lucky me.

  “Whatever, Mounty. Don't cheat off my notes. I can see you eyeing them. I don't share, I don't want to work as a team, I'm not fucking helping you.”

  A laugh rips out of my chest in shock. He doesn’t look at me, his eyes stay glued to the front of the classroom.

  “I don't need your help, why would I need help from some gangster kid? Steal any cars recently? What the hell are you doing at this school?” I say and the words come out harsher than I intended.

  Shock flits across his face but it's gone as quickly as it was there. He turns and looks at me with such intense loathing I swallow. My survival instincts have clearly been misplaced since I arrived here. Who would have thought a school full of rich assholes could be just as volatile as Mounts Bay High? I have to remember I’m not the Wolf here, I’m at the bottom of the ladder with no friends, no allies, no hope.

  “What the fuck are you talking about?” Of course he didn't recognize me, why would he remember seeing me there? I only remember him because he's, well, utterly drool worthy.

  “I was at the courthouse getting my emancipation last month. I had to sit and hear all about your summer activities.”

  He shoves away from the desk roughly and turns on me. I notice immediately that he's much bigger than me, his shoulders are wide and filled out like he knows his way around a gym. The words tattooed under his jaw flick as his muscles clench tightly in rage.

  “Listen here, you little bitch-”

  “Harley. I will deal with it. Focus on your school work.” My head snaps around at Avery’s voice but she hasn't even bothered to look at us. What the hell? Deal with it, like I'm not even a person?

  Harley hesitates, like he'd rather rip my head off himself, but then the teacher is stepping into the room and he gets situated back at the desk. I glance around to see wide eyes in every direction.

  Great.

  I'd just pissed off one of the alpha males at the school.

  Ms. Aurelia introduces herself and then hands out a pop quiz to each student.

  “I like to start out the year knowing what my students already know so we don't accidentally cover old subjects. Anyone who does not get 80 percent or higher will be moved into the lower classes as we won’t have the time to cover older subjects.”

  At least a half dozen students groan. I glance through the pages and I’m relieved to find I know all of the answers. My biggest concern with coming to Hannaford was that I'd be behind thanks to my public school education. I'd spent the entire summer break reading all of my text books.

  I have all three pages filled out in under three minutes. Harley glares at me as I put down my pen but he finishes up less than a minute later.

  Ms. Aurelia collects our papers and grades them while we wait on the rest of the class. Harley flicks through his notes like he's grading himself from memory and I'm forced to stare around the classroom in silence. It's pretty clear at least four students are going to be lucky to stay in the class, the panic easy to read in their posture as they slouch over their work.

  “Oh dear, Mr. Arbour.” says Ms. Aurelia and Harley's head snaps up to look at her. His eyes are wide.

  “You got 99 percent with only one question wrong. A very good score.”

  He exhales and then his eyes narrow. “What's wrong with that?”

  “I know you enjoy being the top of the class. Miss Anderson got 100 percent. I don't think you've ever been beaten in my class before, I hope you’re up for a challenge.”

  If I thought he had looked angry when I'd called him a gangster it was nothing compared to his face now. Avery turns to smile at me but it was the smile of a predator who has identified their prey. Dread leaves a trail of ice down my spine.

  Maybe I have made a mistake coming to Hannaford.

  Lunch is a hellish experience and I desperately wish I could eat out in the sunshine on the grass.

  My stomach rumbles loudly at all the delicious smells coming from the buffet tables and once again I fill my plate to the brim. The long table is bustling and overflowing with students and I have no choice but to take the first empty seat I can find. The girl to my left gives me a hard look and turns her back on me. The boy on my right leers at me and tries to peer down my shirt. I elbow him, hard, and then start in on my food. The noise in the room is raucous and deafening so when it suddenly dies down to whispers I look up.

  The guy
from the office, the older Beaumont kid, is standing in front of a group of freshmen kids seated at the end of the table, not too far away from where I’m sitting. He's flanked by four other students who are all smirking.

  “Move.”

  The freshmen look at each other and then one of them, a guy I haven't seen before, says, “We haven't finished yet, you have to wait.”

  All of the whispers stop.

  You could hear a pin drop in the room, even the kitchen staff are silent.

  “Get. Up.” He says again but the guy stares at him blankly. The flush on his face betrays him.

  “Let me explain to you how this works. I'm a Beaumont. My family is old money, so old it will never run dry. If fact, I wipe my ass with more money than your pathetic little family has ever made and I have the connections to not only ruin you life but to end it. If I tell you to move, you move.”

  All of the freshmen stand at once and move. The guy who spoke grabs his tray and manages one step away before Beaumont slaps the tray and covers him in his lunch. He hisses as the hot soup splashes on his face and down his uniform.

  “There is a clear hierarchy in this school and you are at the bottom. Don't fucking forget it.”

  No one moves to help the guy and I can see angry tears welling up in his eyes. The kitchen staff start motioning for the kids in the line to move along, ignoring the situation happening before them.

  Fucking rich kids.

  I focus on my food again except now I can hear the older kids talking because they're sitting so close to me.

  “How are the twins settling in? I'm thinking about fucking your brother, by the way. I like the scowl on his face, it'll be like fucking an angry, miniature you.”