Breaking Her Bully: The High School Bully Romance Box Set

by Bella King

  I hummed to myself as I filled the old shelves with fresh ingredients. Eight hours of this were going to go by slow if I kept obsessively tossing around Oliver’s image and words in my head. I shoved a packet of yeast into an open box on the shelf aggressively, shaking the thoughts of Oliver out of my troubled head.

  There was one hour left before I clocked out when I smelled spiced plums and smoke. I smelled him before I even saw him. Oliver was in the store and close by.

  I shuffled down the aisle and peeked around the corner, following laughter and multiple male voices. I spotted Oliver with his gang, pulling beers off the shelf beside mine and examining the labels and prices before tossing them into a cart that Oliver was pushing.

  I didn’t want to be seen, so I dipped back around the corner, dashing to the edge of my isle as quietly as I could on the hard floor. I wanted to be out of the way if Oliver and his friends came down my aisle. I was certain they would pass it at some point.

  I hurried out to the employee break room so that I wouldn’t have to face them. I wasn’t sure if Oliver knew where I worked, but I didn’t want him to know. Hell, I wanted him to no nothing about me, but Mia would probably let a lot slide in conversation if he asked about me.

  Fuck, what if he did ask about me? What if he was interested in me?

  I paced around the breakroom, snatching up a thin plastic cup from the water cooler and filling it up with water. Two gulps and it was gone. I crumpled it in my hand easily and tossed it into the oversized industrial trash bin that was hanging around in the break room.

  I had to cool it. I might be able to clock out early and leave before Oliver and his gang of lanky college bros got to the register. Dismissed the thought as easily as it had come. I still had stuff on the floor of my isle, and I hadn’t taken all the pallets back to storage.

  I gritted my teeth and watched the hand of the big plastic break room clock tick by in silence. Nobody else was there with me. Nobody took breaks near the end of their shift. I wasn’t even intending to, but Oliver changed my course of action simply by existing close to me.

  After ten minutes, I thought it safe enough to leave. I peeked out of the break room, clutching the side of the door as I craned my neck around to scan the store. I didn’t see any sign of Oliver, nor did I hear the obnoxiously loud voices of his roistering friends. Excellent.

  I felt like a spy as I danced back down to my isle, ears open and eyes peeled for the smallest hint of Oliver. I smelled him in my isle but didn’t see him any longer. They had been down this aisle, though.

  My suspicions were confirmed upon finding a handwritten note placed lightly atop one the boxes of cake mix on a pallet that I was unloading before I was interrupted.

  “What’s up, Lydia,” was all it read.

  My stomach did a summersault. It wasn’t anyone’s handwriting that I knew, which meant it must have been Oliver. Maybe he saw me while I was trying to slink away, or before I had noticed him. I crumpled up the paper and pushed it into my pocket. Not today, Oliver.

  I finished stocking the shelves with surprising speed. I was fueled by my frustration toward Oliver. I was confused about his behavior and honestly weirded out that he was directing so much of his attention toward me.

  I jammed my fingers into a keypad in the break room to clock out and left for the evening, hurrying back home to get the party started with Mia. I needed a drink.

  Chapter 8

  “Hey, look who’s back!” Mia turned to me when I entered the house, an open bottle of whipped cream vodka in her hand.

  “Already started drinking, huh?” I said, laughing. “You’re a patient one.”

  Mia shrugged. “You took a long time.”

  “I work the same shift every Saturday,” I reminded her as I began slipping my shoes off.

  “No, don’t take your shoes off. We’re going out,” Mia blurted.

  I already had one off. I bent over and pulled it back onto my foot and stood up straight. “Where?”

  “It’s a surprise,” Mia said happily. “Here, you need to catch up. Double shot. Go!” She shoved the icy bottle of liquid regret into my hands, hurrying to the kitchen directly after and returning with a shot glass.

  “I literally just got off work, Mia,” I said.

  “Which means you need a drink. Or two in this case.”

  I took the shot glass and filled it with the cold syrupy liquid. It didn’t look so threatening in this form, but I knew the minute it hit the back of my throat, I would be vying for a chaser.

  “Do we have coke?”

  “Cocaine?” Mia joked.

  I laughed. “Shit, maybe that would be better.”

  “Hold on, I have a two liter in the kitchen,” Mia said, scrambling back to the kitchen again.

  I followed her, wincing as my shoes hit the carpet connecting the living room and kitchen. I would have removed my shoes even if we were going to leave in a few minutes. Our vacuum sucked, and I wasn’t exactly rich enough to buy one that didn’t. Oliver had succeeded in draining the remainder of my funds until my next paycheck.

  When I enter the kitchen, I threw back a shot, feeling cold and heat in my throat as the liquid made its way down. I grabbed at the cup of cola that Mia brought to me, snatching it up and washing the taste of artificial cream out of my mouth.

  “That’s one,” Mia reminded me.

  I laughed, drinking the next shot straight from the bottle, then pouring cola into my mouth to mix with it before swallowing.

  “Eh, good enough,” Mia said, taking the bottle from me and swirling the gray plastic cap back into place. “Let’s get going.”

  I wiped my mouth on with my forearm. “Where are we going again?”

  “I told you. It’s a surprise,” Mia replied with mischief in her voice.

  “I swear to god if you’re trying to go to Oliver’s place or something.” I trailed off as Mia made a guilty face. “Mia, no!”

  Mia bent her knees and clasped her hands in front of her. “Come on, Lydia,” she whined. “It’ll be fun. I think he has his friends over.”

  “I don’t know,” I replied. “It sounds like trouble.”

  “Everything sounds like trouble to you. If they’re lame, then we can leave. Just give it a chance,” Mia reasoned.

  I sighed. “Alright, but let me change into something more presentable. I don’t want to look like a gremlin.”

  “Okay,” Mia said, her eyes widening with delight.

  Mia knew how to keep my mind open, and as I ruffled through my drawers in search of something suitable to wear, the alcohol began to ease my worries. This couldn’t be that bad if I went with the flow and didn’t delve too deep into conversation.

  I plucked a simple black dress from the depths of the unfolded clothes in my drawer and slipped into it. Time to party.

  Chapter 9

  We walked to Oliver’s apartment with two bottles of vodka and a large bottle of cola in a thick, insulated bag for frozen food. It would hold better and still be drinkable when we got there.

  Mia skipped along happily, having taken another shot before we left. I was still dripped by just two shots, but that was already enough for me to have more life in my step.

  I hardly noticed the walk there. The gravity of stress that I had been holding onto was melting away into an odd sort of excitement to get to know new people. After all, I really didn’t know any of Oliver’s friends. Maybe there was one in the group of young men that I could get along with.

  The moon was already high in the air when we arrived at Oliver’s place, illuminating the parking lot in silver as it moved slowly upward in the sky. It was almost a full moon, missing just a sliver that would be filled within a few more nights.

  Cheerful voices radiated from Oliver’s apartment as we approached the door, and Mia knocked on it loudly. We waited only a few seconds before the door was flung open by a drunk guy with wet hair. “Welcome, ladies,” he slurred.

  Mia laughed, stepping into the warm apartmen
t. I followed directly after her, hunching my shoulders defensively as the drunk guy stared at me with a goofy grin.

  I was met with the scent of beer and guys, nothing unexpected. My eyes met with Oliver’s. He was sitting on the couch, a handsome smile painted across his face as he threw poker chips onto the table with a few friends.

  He looked incredibly charming, relaxed, and cocky in his gambling abilities. A red solo cup filled with straw-colored beer sat beside him on the table, half-consumed but definitely not the first of his drinks judging by his lazy body posture.

  I shuffled into the kitchen with Mia. Oliver glanced my way, getting up and taking a gulp of her beer before coming to greet me. I huddled close to Mia as we put our stuff down and slipped out of our shoes.

  “Glad you two could make it,” Oliver said cheerfully. His voice was loud and confident as he spoke, not unlike it usually was, but with less control and more volume.

  Mia smiled at him, her eyes growing wide at the sight of him. I felt a pang of jealousy at the way she was behaving, but I had to remind myself that Oliver wasn’t my man. She could have him if she wanted someone like that.

  “What did you bring?” Oliver asked me, bringing a hand down on my shoulder. I nearly collapsed under the force of it.

  “Vodka,” I replied. “Do you want some?”

  Oliver leaned over my shoulder and looked at the bottles of vodka peeking out from inside the bag. “Why not?”

  I turned, moving his hand off my shoulder with my movement and grabbed a plastic cup for him. Mia had already swung out of the kitchen into the living room with a beer in hand. I splashed a double shot of vodka into the cup and placed my hand on the bottle of cola. “You want it mixed?”

  Oliver smiled at me, his eyes dancing over my body again. His eyes were wild with energy as he examined me. “Yes, mixed is fine,” he replied.

  I was thankful that I wasn’t there alone with Oliver. He made me slightly uncomfortable with his size and strength. He didn’t seem especially aggressive now, but I wouldn’t want to get on his bad side. He looked like he could rip a body in half with little effort.

  I clumsily poured cola into the vodka, the light caramel fizz rising up to the top as I poured. I waited for a second and poured a bit more to top it off.

  “Enjoy,” I said, handing the cup to Oliver.

  He took it from me, brushing his fingers against mine as he did so. They were warm and a little rough. I could tell he lifted weights from the callouses on his hands. He didn’t play sports, but he didn’t need to. His body was impressive.

  Oliver downed the two shots and cola in a few gulps, smacking the cup back down on the kitchen counter with more force than necessary, crumping the bottom of the cup. “Thanks,” he said with a smirk.

  I picked up the bottle and poured myself a mixed drink with less vodka in it. I didn’t want to get wasted in a group of college guys. There was no telling how that would turn out.

  “Join us for some poker,” Oliver offered, motioning behind him to the living room.

  I followed him from the kitchen to the living room, where his friends were waiting impatiently to continue their game. Oliver plopped down on the worn couch and patted beside him for me to sit.

  I sat down, noting that the couch was quite torn up on the sides and armrests. I concluded that there must be a cat somewhere around the apartment, probably hiding from all the loud drunk people.

  “You have a cat,” I asked Oliver, but it sounded more like a statement than a question.

  Oliver chuckled, pushing poker chips to my side of the coffee table. “Indeed, I do, but she’s sleeping in the room. She doesn’t like all these people here.”

  Mia winked at me, and I frowned, taking a sip of my drink.

  “What are we playing for?” I asked.

  “Nothing at the moment,” Oliver said.

  Mia’s eyes lit up. “Money,” she said loudly.

  I laughed. “Mia, you don’t have any money to bet with.”

  She grabbed the cards that were dealt to her. “I don’t need to have money if I’m the one winning.”

  Oliver shrugged. “She has a point.”

  I could see his cards from beside him. He had an Ace and a Four, same suite. I looked at Mia slyly. “Yes, let’s do 50 bucks then. I’ll cover Mia’s bet.”

  Mia flashed me an ‘OK’ sign with her fingers, nodding with approval.

  The other guys around the table nodded along, and Oliver sighed. “If you want me to take even more of your money, go right ahead,” he said smoothly.

  I laughed. “Ain’t going to happen, buddy.” I pulled my cards up from the table, sliding them between my breasts and peeking at them. I had a Jack and a Queen. Not bad.

  I was fuzzy and overconfident from the alcohol, but I played well in the first hand. I bet high and won the first round, scooping a pile of cheap colorful plastic chips into my pile.

  Oliver smirked at me when I folded my second hand, but I knew his cards had me beat. It would be easier if I could everyone’s hands, but I had to be happy with the advantage I already had. There was no way for him to win, at least, if he kept flashing his cards to me by accident.

  A few more rounds went, and one player dropped from the game. The total pool of money was at $300 with six players, but $100 of that was mine due to my contribution on behalf of Mia.

  I had to win this, or I wouldn’t have enough money for my morning coffee, and I would have to resort to drinking dining hall coffee. That stuff tasted like someone boiled a brown paper bag and dumped in enough caffeine to send you to the toilet after your first two sips. I preferred iced coffee anyway.

  “Are you going to play?” Oliver asked, snapping me out of my coffee daydream.

  I hadn’t even realized I had zoned out, but I suppose that happens when you drink a lot of vodka in a short amount of time. I flung my cards on the table, folding, and got up to pour myself another drink.

  As I got up, Oliver’s hand shot out and tugged on the hem of my dress. I looked up to see him leaning over with his face dangerously close to my ass, looking up at me. “Could you get me another drink?” He asked.

  I slapped his hand away. “Yes, I’ll get you one,” I snapped.

  A crooked smile appeared on his face. “Thanks, Lydia,” he said.

  The way that he said my name was slow and deliberate, as though he were singling me out by saying it. I could tell that he was drunk already, and I was heading in that direction quicker than I thought I would.

  I knew that I told myself I wouldn’t get wasted, but part of me wanted to try my luck this evening. Everything was going so smoothly, and I had Mia to keep an eye on me in case anything got out of hand.

  I wobbled into the kitchen and knocked over a few used cups as I slid my hand over the counter to a fresh stack. I pulled two from the stack and poured a few shot’s worth of vodka in each of them. That finished off the first bottle.

  I poured in the cola, overfilling one of them and giggling. That would be Oliver’s since it was all sticky now. I took a sip from it so that I wouldn’t slosh out the content onto the carpet and moseyed back to the living room so that I wouldn’t miss the next round of poker.

  Mia was leaning over one of the guys in the group, laughing and flirtatiously trying to check his cards. I laughed at her antics but felt cheerful and a bit flirtatious myself as I sat down with Oliver.

  “Jesus, this is strong,” Oliver exclaimed after taking a rather large gulp of his drink.

  “I like them strong,” I purred.

  He laughed. “Then you’re going to love my next hand,” he said, standing up and pushing his chips into the middle. “All in.”

  I squinted at him as every other player at the table folded. I could eliminate him now if I went all in against him. Oliver sat back smugly with his cards face down on the table. I looked down at my hand. I had a pair of Jacks, which was a good hand considering the circumstances.

  There were three open cards on the table, one of them
another Jack. Even if Oliver had a pair of Aces, I had the better hand. I placed my cards down on the table, face up. “All in,” I parroted.

  Oliver flipped his cards over, revealing double Aces, as I thought. This guy was too predictable. I crossed my arms, basking in my probable victory against Oliver. He shrugged, signaling for the dealer to place the last two cards.

  The first card that came down made my heart sink. It was another Ace. What the fuck? I was screwed! The second card was a Three, and that wrapped up the round. Oliver wiped me out.

  I groaned, rolling my eyes and snatching my plastic cup from the table to take another large swig of my beverage. Once again, Oliver was taking my money.

  Oliver patted me on the back firmly. “Maybe next time,” he said mockingly.

  I had the urge to toss my drink into his face, but I knew that was unwarranted and would get me in trouble. It would only enhance his perception of me having violent outbursts. The cabinet bashing had been a one-off occurrence, and I wasn’t going to give Oliver another reason to think poorly of me.

  “I need to feed the cat. I’ll skip the next two rounds. Play without me,” Oliver said, standing up and swaying before finding his footing.

  I was afraid he might topple down on top of me, but he steadied himself quickly and took a calculated step over my legs into unoccupied space.

  I sprung up behind him. “I’d like to meet your cat,” I said, aware of how much my words were slurring. My face was rosy, and my body was numb enough not to feel when I banged my knee on the coffee table when standing up.

  “Yeah, come with me. Just close the door, so she doesn’t run out,” he replied.

  I followed Oliver closely as he opened the bedroom door gently and flicked on the light. I went in after him, quietly closing the door so that we were alone in the room with the cat. I hadn’t noticed how loud it was in the living room until we were in his bedroom.

  His cat, a black shorthair with yellow eyes, yawned dramatically as Oliver went into the bathroom connected to his room to refill her food. I went to pet her, but she jumped from the bed when she heard the bag of dry food rustle in the bathroom.