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

by J Bree

  I slip the photos and the note under Avery's door before I head down for dinner. All of the other students will be leaving for Winter Break in the morning and I need her to know before she goes.

  Taken three days ago. Dump him.

  Chapter Sixteen

  The entire school is empty for winter break.

  At least that's what I think until day three when I spot Harley sitting in the dining hall eating a massive pile of eggs by himself. He freezes when he hears the door and then glares over at me. I pile my own plate full of pancakes, fruit, syrup, and ice cream and then sit as far away from him as possible.

  I wasn't expecting to see anyone so I'm wearing tiny shorts, an old, torn shirt, and thigh high socks. I'd been sliding my way around the school and squealing like a toddler all morning. There was only a skeleton staff still at the school so I hadn't felt any shame in doing it. I now cringe at the thought of Harley catching me.

  It was uncomfortable eating in silence knowing he was at the other end of the table. A few times I thought I could feel his eyes on me but when I glanced up he was scrolling through his phone. He was probably texting the others about how ridiculous I look. I sigh into my fruit and prepare for how much shit I'll get from Avery when the break is over.

  I'm contemplating my future doom when Harley gets up and leaves the hall. As he walks past my chair I meet his eyes and keep my face blank. He sneers down at me and I roll my eyes.

  Stupid rich kids.

  When I'm finished I head back to my room and start the colossal pile of homework I have. It's not a fun winter break I think the rest of Hannaford students are having. I think back to when my mom was still alive and it was Christmas time but we never actually did anything. Too broke for presents, to sad for a tree or good food. My only really good memories from then were watching the Christmas specials on tv by myself while my mum got high and walked the streets. Fuck, if that's where my brain was going I was going to have a miserable break.

  I have a scholarship to keep and not much else to do so homework it is.

  The most pressing is to do my vocal work.

  I can't practice in my room when the other girls are here. I'm too nervous that they can hear me and even with my headphones on the anxiety triggers my PTSD. I've picked my song, having ditched the Vanth Falling song for good now I've met Blaise, and I just need to practice it enough that I can zone completely out while I perform.

  I will never admit this to another living soul but I pick Pompeii by Bastille because of Blaise’s cover of it. It sucks that so much of my own musical story is intertwined with his because of my past obsession with him but I need something I've sung a thousand times before to get through the assignment. No one will ever have to know it's all because of him.

  I'd rather die.

  I decide to skip lunch to keep practicing and then finally my stomach drags me to the dining hall for dinner. The menu is very festive and it takes me a second to realize it's Christmas Eve. I feel bad for the kitten staff who have to be there to feed me, a scholarship student, and then I remember Harley and the giant mountain of money his family would have paid to send him here and I feel a bit better.

  I fill my plate with such a feast I feel bad for the kids back home and then I sit and tuck in.

  Harley is in his usual seat so I situate myself at the other end of the table again. Not long after I sit down I hear him get up and to my utter shock he sits down across from me. His plate is only half empty and he gets back to eating as soon as he's sat down.

  “Rumor has it you're emancipated.” He says without looking up at me so I have to do more than nod. My voice is barely more than a croak.

  “Yeah.”

  “How the fuck did you manage that?”

  I can’t figure out his angle. Is he fishing for information to use against me or is he just curious, bored, feeling the Christmas spirit?

  “I was already in foster care and I proved I could provide for myself so it was one less kid the state had to take care of. Took me a year but I just kept trying.”

  He grunts and leans back in his change to study my face. I try desperately not to flush scarlet under his gorgeous stare.

  “How the fuck can a Mounty provide for herself? You have a sugar daddy or some shit?” He doesn't speak like the other rich kids. It jars me because he may look like the most heavenly being I've ever seen but he speaks like a roughneck kid from the streets. He sounds like me. It’s comforting even while he’s all smirks and asshole nature.

  “I'm not selling myself to anything except my scholarship.”

  He scoffs. “That's vague.”

  “Why do you want to know? Mommy and daddy pissing you off? Why aren't you home celebrating the holidays with them?”

  His eyes narrow to a glare and he clenches his teeth. I could apologize or change the subject but he started it. He looks away from me and I can see his brain at work. I give him a minute of silence before I prod him again. “I answered you honestly. Is there no honor amongst rich kids?”

  He gives me a dark look and I tuck back into my dinner while I wait.

  “My dads dead. My mom is locked up. I'm thinking about applying for emancipation too. My caseworker won't say a word to me about it, she just tells me it's not for me. So, I'm offering you a meal of peace for the information. I know you’re smart, you wouldn't be here if you weren't, so I'll take you at your word.”

  Huh. He was an orphan like me. So why does he treat me so badly? And why does Avery protect him so fiercely?

  “Are you on a scholarship too?”

  “Fuck no.” Like it's something to go ashamed of, like I didn't spend half my life working to be here instead of paying my way in. I give him my own dark look which he promptly ignores.

  “Then you must have the means to provide for yourself. It should be an easy process for you.”

  He stabbed around at his plate violently. I almost feel sorry for the beans.

  “I don't have access to any of the money my dad left for me. Or… well, any of the money that’s rightfully mine. So, no it won't be.”

  I shrug at him. “If you have an estate that pays for you then that will count too.”

  “Don't have one of those either.” he grumbles.

  I set my fork down and fold my arms over my chest. He watches me and then mirrors my movement. Is he fucking with me? “Who pays for your school tuition then?”

  “Avery.”

  Holy fuck. “Is she in love with you? I see her tongue down that dickhead Rory's neck all the time so I wouldn't have guessed it.”

  He snorts and looks at me incredulously. When I stare at him blankly he shakes his head. “We’re cousins. Our moms were sisters. Avery takes that shit very seriously so I'm here with her and Ash because she couldn’t bear the thought of me going to a public school back home.”

  Cousins?! They look nothing alike. Harley is a golden god and Ash is like a dark prince, with all that dark hair and brooding. I look at him closer and think maybe around the nose there's a hint of similarity but nothing obvious.

  “Well, fuck. I don't know how to advise you with only half your story. So either tell me it all or go spend weeks researching it online like I had to.”

  He looks at me again and then sighs, rubbing his hands over his face like he wanted to scrub years off it. His biceps flex invitingly with the action and I resist the urge to reach out and squeeze them. “Fuck it. I have a large inheritance from my parents but to get it I'd have to fulfill certain… obligations that I refuse to do. I won't lose my soul for the money. My mom has nothing. Avery pays for all my shit. How do I get emancipated?”

  I push my tray away, the meat now cold and unappealing. Every time I was interrupted by one of these guys I end up missing out on good food. The kitchen staff had put out an amazing spread for only two student and now I’m not even going to finish my plate. So damn wasteful.

  “You would have to have enough money to cover all of your expenses for the next four years in a bank account
and a plan on how you would use them. Detailed, like an itemized list down to how much soap you use in a year. Can Avery give you that?”

  He doesn't answer, he just grits his teeth again and picks up his tray. I huff out a breath feeling dismissed and then he calls out to me as he leaves, “Thanks Mounty.”

  I grab my own tray and head back up to bed.

  I don't get out until Christmas Day is over.

  Boxing Day is not a good day for me.

  I decide to go down and eat breakfast and Harley pours me a cup of juice as he passes by my chair. I, stupidly, think it’s a nice gesture after how much information I gave him at our last meeting. I should know better by now.

  He'd put laxatives in it.

  I could not leave the girls dorms for the rest of the day.

  I am so angry about the juice that I throw caution so far into the wind it ends up in fucking Kansas.

  I know Harley is on the swim team because it's the only class we don't share and I've heard Blaise and Avery talking about it in our choir and voice development classes. I also know that being as unbelievably gorgeous as he is he must be very attached to his looks and, especially, his immaculately coiffed silvery blond hair. You can't be that hot without also being vain.

  I have no access to any beauty stores but I'm an inventive sort of girl. The kitchen staff are very happy to help me out with my science project and armed with two bottles of food grade dye I find his shampoo and conditioner and pour an entire bottle in each. I'm not sure Harley is the type to pull off the smurf look but good god am I ready to find out.

  Being the only two students in the school gives me an extra dose of bravery, like I'm untouchable in the holidays, when really I know that Harley will tell his friends and then I'll have to face whatever it is they decide to retaliate with. Avery had already proven herself to be an unconscionable bully and that was without me ever fighting back. It was a sobering thought of what she would do once she finds out. But for now, I'm going to enjoy the sport of beating this gorgeous guy at his own game. It’s nice to be able to mess with him in such a low level way.

  I get to dinner early and sit at the far end of the table in the exact chair that he usually sits. I enjoy ten minutes of silence and steak before showtime. When the door at the far end of the dining hall swings open I don't look up and it's a struggle not to smirk. I can hear him filling his plate and then the sound of him walking towards me. I roll my eyes, he would insist on sitting at his chair even in an empty hall, and I prepare to stare him down but then he pulls out the chair across from me and sits. I glance up and snort.

  Between the bright blue tones and the tattoo he looks like he belongs in an eighties punk band. The shocking part is that his eyes are twinkling with laughter rather than the malice I expected.

  “Good shower?” I prod at him.

  “Great. Just what I needed. How's your bowels?”

  “Lovely and cleared, thanks for asking.”

  He snorts with laughter and digs into his plate. It's weird to sit with him but I can't move away without seeming weak or bitchy. Plus he's just as alluring as the first time I saw him, so hot it hurts to look right at him.

  “Which dictator did you pick for History? I'm going to wipe the floor with you.” His eyes are still twinkling and it makes me feel lightheaded. Is he flirting? He can't be. I clear my throat.

  “Avery Beaumont but Ms. Aurelia said I can't chose someone still in power so I went with Mao Zedong. Who did you pick?”

  He smirks and shows off his perfect teeth.

  “Like I'd tell you.” He gives his juice a sniff before shrugging and drinking from it. I regret not messing with it. He sees me watching him and says, “I’m sure you've thought of something worse but if you have spiked it I needed some fibre anyway.”

  I smile and hope that not knowing drives him a little crazy.

  “I bet you've picked Hitler like every other student ever. Predictable. Boring.” I taunt him but he just smiles. Even his smile is deadly, I can feel it slicing into my soul.

  “Have you finished yet? Is it printed out and ready to be headed in?” His voice is soft and sweet and fuck if it doesn't make me nervous. And a little turned on but mostly nervous.

  “My breakfast, my assignment, or fucking with you?”

  He leans back in his chair and crossed his arms.

  “I don't expect you to ever stop fucking with me. You came to this school swinging, like we wouldn't swing back. I meant your assignment.”

  My eyes narrow. This is a trap. He is far too smug right now.

  “Its a shame about the computers.” He says innocently. “Sounds like they'll be out for the whole week.”

  Fucking bastard.

  “Seriously? That's all you've got?” I say with confidence that I'm not feeling and I stand up with my tray. I walk out of the hall to the sound of his raucous laughter.

  It takes two seconds in the library to discover that he has in fact messed with all of the IT systems in the school. My completed assignment is stuck on the little USB stick I’d been forced to buy. There’s a chance the computers will be fixed before classes resume but I’m not really one for taking chances. It's such a rich kid thing to assume that he's won because I can’t access the computers and yet the school has a bigger and better stocked library than my home town does so I pull a dozen books and spend the day rewriting my assignment before he decides to burn the library down instead.

  After six hours of intensive work Harley shows up with a smug look that only falters on his face for a second when he spots me in my fortress of books. I give him my own smug look and finish off my attempts at perfect penmanship, though I can never completely disguise my scratchings successfully.

  “I didn't expect to see you here. I thought you were so out of touch from the library that you wouldn't know where to find it.”

  He grins wolfishly at me and my breath catches. Goddamn it, why is he so hot!

  “I know the library well.” He pulls a chair out across from me and straddles it. “I've fucked quite a few girls in the stacks.”

  A shiver runs up my spine. I should feel disgusted, I had at every other boy who's said that kind of thing to me, but all I can think is how much I want him to take me into the stacks. How sick is that?

  Maybe foster care messed me up more than I thought?

  A slow grin spread across his face.

  “Don't worry, Mounty, I don't want to fuck you. There's at least three guys in this school who don't want you.”

  Himself, Ash and Blaise. My stomach dropped and I wanted to scream at myself. Why the hell did I want them so much when they are the ones torturing me? Some secret part of my brain whispered to me that the last few days hadn't felt like torture. They had been the most fun I'd had since I'd come to this pretentious school.

  “What a relief. I suppose none of you need the money.”

  His eyes tighten like he's taken a hit. I open my mouth to ask him why but he cuts me off.

  “Not enough to fuck trash, no.”

  I would have given anything to be able to stop myself from blushing but I couldn't. I tell myself it a flush of anger but it's shame burning in my gut.

  “You might want to bury your nerves a bit deeper, Mounty. Putting them on display like that just gives us all a target.”

  He winks at me, fucking winks, and then leaves me.

  I tell myself I'm not gutted.

  But I am.

  The students all arrive back Sunday night.

  By Monday morning Harley's head is shaved and he looks at me like I'm nothing again.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Miss Umber is late to my choir assessment by twenty minutes, which is coincidentally just long enough for my to start sweating bullets at the thought of singing for her. The choir room looks so much bigger without the other students milling about. I’m glad she agreed to do it here and not at the chapel. Standing on the stage there, where I’d heard my 911 call, I would’ve lost my mind. And my lunch.
/>   “Right. You. Yes, of course. Which song did you pick?” Miss Umber sounds flustered as she drops her bag onto the tiny desk. She’s far too old to be a miss, she should have at least switched out to be a Ms by now. Her startlingly white hair is chopped off into a severe looking bob with bangs and her glasses frame is too large for her face. On a teeny runway model it would have looked fashionable but on the aging teacher it looks unflattering. I’d much rather sit here and pick apart her appearance than start my assessment. When Miss Umber turns to give me a look I snap to it.

  “Pompeii. By Bastille.” I croak. Not a good sign of my vocal abilities for the day.

  “Good choice! Do you need music or are you going to play an instrument?”

  I hold up my phone to show her the instrumental song I have prepared. I had learned a handful of songs on guitar, this one included, but I didn’t want to tempt fate by putting too much pressure on myself. I run through the warm ups under her watchful eye and I realize this is the most amount of attention she’s ever given me. This is definitely the first time she’s ever heard my voice because I always hide amongst the other students in class.

  Once I have the phone set up and the music starts I slip my noise-canceling headphones in and then I sing.

  My eyes slip shut and I forget Miss Umber is even in the room. For the first time I can focus on the feeling of singing, the rush of my body working hard at something that isn’t entirely physical, and I lose myself in it. I sway and swing my arms for emphasis the way I’ve watched Blaise do a thousand times before. I can hear myself but the headphones tone it down just enough that I can immerse myself fully into the act of singing rather than the sound.

  It’s incredible.

  I feel like a piece of me that I lost years ago has come back. It’s healing to think that the damage done to me at the hands of the Jackal and the Game could be healed. I could someday be a whole person again. I can feel the tears prickling at the back of my eyes and I know the second I open them they will fall. If I can stay at this school and survive everything being down around me and to me I can pull myself up and out of the world I was born into. I can make something of myself through sheer will and perseverance alone.