Prick: A Dark High School Bully Romance (Ridgeview Prep Book 0)

by Londyn Quinn

  I lift an eyebrow. “Okay, so that exact plan has basically been hanging over your head since I met you that first day of middle school when your mother paraded you into the place with your own security detail, but tonight you’re upset about it? What gives?”

  “You remember that day, right? I barely made it to my classes on time because I had to navigate the halls with ten menacing guys. Like I was the First Daughter or something.”

  “Well, that’s your mom. Always wanting to let everyone on the planet know that Hawthornes are never to be ignored, especially among commoners like us. You know, the rest of Ridgeview.” I snicker, rolling my eyes.

  She twirled a strand of hair around her finger, her eyes on the polished marble tile floor. “I’m just fed up with it. You know, sometimes…” She pauses for a second. “Sometimes I feel like I can’t breathe, that I’m being choked. By my life! The life my parents wanted for my brother. They didn’t expect me...a girl who wants different things than they can give me.”

  “You know they love you, Char. You’re…” I take a deep breath, placing my hands on her shoulders. My eyes widen as I see the red marks staining the tips of my fingers. I pull them away like her shoulders just morphed into hot lava as I quickly clear my throat.

  I want to tell her what she is...to me, to my life.

  But I choke back the words.

  I can’t tell her.

  There’s too much blood tainting everything…

  It’s who I really am.

  But she doesn’t know.

  She can never know.

  “I’m what?” she whispers, her eyes laser-focused on mine.

  “You’re, um, you’re…” I stuff my hands back into my pockets. The need to scrub the blood off before she sees it has my brain short-circuiting. “Hold that thought. I, ah, need to wash my hands real quick, okay?”

  Charlotte furrows her brow. “Okay,” she responds, taking a couple of steps backward. “Are you thirsty or hungry?”

  “Um, yeah,” I say, making a beeline for the bathroom. “Whatever you want is good with me.”

  I shut the door tight and let out a shuddering sigh as I collapse against it. I bring my hands up to my face and stare at the angry streaks.

  Blood on my hands.

  Literally.

  I am just like my family.

  And that is bad for a lot of people, especially Charlotte.

  Did I really think I could come here tonight, ready to tell her that I want more than just her friendship? I mean, first...let’s be real. Charles will try to cut my balls off if he finds out.

  Notice how I said try.

  Second, telling her would ruin the very best thing in my life. Because you can’t come back from that kind of a confession if the other person doesn’t feel the same way.

  And I need her in my life, just like I need air to breathe. It sounds stupid and cliché, but she’s the only one who makes me try to be better.

  Want to be better.

  Without her, I’d be doomed to live the very life I detest so much…all alone.

  She’s saved me from myself, the lifeline I cling to when I’m carrying out my ‘family’ duties. Knowing she’s there waiting keeps me from turning into a monster like my brother Jase. As much as I hate to admit it, I am like him. He’s made me like him. Except I fight the demons inside of me. They’re always there, but I don’t let them out because I want something better for my life.

  I want Char.

  Jase has nothing to lose. He’s never cared enough to want more than the life that he has.

  I have everything.

  So I have to keep my mouth shut.

  Telling the truth just isn’t worth the risk.

  I turn on the water and pump some soap into my hands, scrubbing until the water runs clear down the drain. I dry my hands on one of their fluffy, never-been-used-before towels, and wander back into the foyer.

  “Char?” I call out.

  She pops out from the kitchen carrying an overloaded tray — two cans of Coke, bags of Baked Lays, popcorn, Doritos, and M&Ms. She walks closer and pivots a little to the side so I can see the final treat — a bag of grape-flavored Jolly Ranchers.

  I grin at her. “You’re the best.”

  She smiles back, but it doesn’t reach her blue eyes the way it usually does. “You’re not too bad yourself. Come on, let’s stuff ourselves on junk and watch scary movies.”

  “Why do you always pick scary movies?” I give her a gentle nudge with my hip. “You never even watch them. You spend the whole time burying your head in my arm.”

  A pink flush colors her cheeks and she bites her lower lip. “We can find another kind of movie. It doesn’t have to be a scary one.”

  Idiot! Like I’d ever trade the feeling of her pressed against me for some chick flick? “No,” I say, backpedaling as fast as I can. “It’s cool. I sort of like being your pillow.”

  Jesus. That didn’t sound stupid at all.

  Charlotte stares at me for a long minute as if she wants to say something. Momentarily, I panic. I really hope there aren’t any other blood stains on my clothes that caught her attention.

  “Let’s go into the family room,” she finally says, as I expel a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding.

  I follow her into the room, but instead of turning on the lights like she always does, she just walks straight to the couch, setting the tray on the coffee table in front of it. I squint in the darkness. Why didn’t she turn on the lights? Is she trying to set the mood for a scary movie? Knowing she’s gonna be smashed against me pretty soon already has my mood set, so I’m not going to complain.

  I come up behind her as she fiddles with the television remote. “I can’t turn it on,” she mutters.

  “Want me to get the light?”

  “No!” she says in a sharp tone, still pressing buttons.

  “Here, let me see,” I reach out for the remote, and the second our fingers graze each other, a sharp jolt zips through my hand, sizzling the nerves like I just stuck a wet finger into an electric socket. Or at least, how I think it’d feel.

  She lets out a gasp, dropping the remote into my hand like it’s on fire.

  “I didn’t mean to startle you,” I admit. I try to think of something else to say while I mess with the buttons, but no words come out.

  “You...didn’t,” she whispers.

  The television screen finally lights up, and I toss the remote onto the table, collapsing onto the large sofa. It’s the most comfortable place in this house. Buttery soft leather, plush cushions. Perfect for a movie and plenty of other things that race through my mind while she’s snuggled into me.

  She sinks into the spot next to me, staring straight ahead. Her nerves are on full display tonight —wringing her hands and tapping her toes on the carpet.

  “What’s up? Why are you so edgy?” I sit straight up and grab the bag of Doritos, handing them to her.

  She shakes her head. “Thanks, but I’m not really hungry.”

  “No way. You’re turning down your favorite chips? The ones you eat and eat and eat until the skin on your fingers turns a disturbing shade of nacho cheese orange?”

  “My stomach’s a little upside down right now.”

  “Did ya get bucked one time too many?” I joke, knowing Charlotte Hawthorne would never in a million years get bucked.

  She lets out a snort. “As if.”

  “So, what is it?” I try again. “I know there’s something wrong. And you know I’ll keep bugging you about it until you finally tell me.” I pull my phone out of my pocket and scroll through one of my playlists for a rap song from the ’90s. Phoenix used to love these guys. Kriss Kross. I stab the play button and jump in front of her, rapping along with the guys, volume turned all the way up.

  She hates all rap, but 90’s rap really gets her panties in a twist.

  I leap across the floor, singing at the top of my lungs and doing the moves at the same time.

  “I’ve got a whole
playlist, Char!” I spin around and start singing again.

  Her shoulders shake from laughing so hard. “Oh God! You know how much I hate this!”

  “You know what you have to do!” I spin again and drop to my knees, bouncing right up again.

  “Do you know how ridiculous you look right now?” she asks, swiping away the tears forming in the corners of her eyes from laughing so hard. “And FYI, this doesn’t even come close to being classified as music!”

  “It’s awesome!” The next song comes on. Run DMC. My favorite.

  I can do this all night if I have to.

  Because she’s carrying something with her and it’s big. That much is obvious.

  Let me help you, Char…

  When she can barely breathe because she’s laughing so hard, I stop the song and drop down in front of her, panting from all of the theatrics. I’m in pretty good shape, but damn. That took a lot outta me.

  “I...hope...you’re...ready...to...tell...me,” I wheeze, trying to catch my breath. I lay my arms over her lap and stare up at her. Dark eyelashes frame her eyes, her pink lips curling into a sweet smile.

  “You always try to make me laugh,” she murmurs. “And you know just how to make me feel better if I’ve had a rough day.”

  I shrug. “I know, I’m a clown. An above-average court jester.”

  She shakes her head. “No, you just know me so well. You think of me. You care about me.”

  “I do,” I rasp. “I always have.” What the heck is going on here? Why is she saying all of this stuff? Maybe she just finished another one of her romance books. She always gets really sappy at those cheesy endings.

  “When I feel choked by my life, Xan…” She lays her arms on top of mine and dips her head down. “You help me through it because I’m important to you. That’s real friendship. The best kind of friendship.”

  Oh, crap. Is she about to friend-zone me?

  I guess deep down, I’d hoped she might have more than just friendly feelings for me. But that jerkoff dad of hers must’ve gotten into her head. That explains the standoff we had just before he left tonight. I was tempted to stick my foot out and trip his tuxedo-wearing ass. Won’t lie.

  Dammit.

  Ain’t that the cockblock of a lifetime.

  “You’re the best friend I have,” I say. And I mean it. Yeah, I fantasize about her more than I’d ever admit to anyone, but if friendship is all I can have, I’ll take it.

  Her hand reaches around to the back of my neck, her soft fingertips grazing the prickled skin as she pulls me toward her.

  What the hell?

  “Xander,” she whispers. Her warm breath feels like feathers against my cheek.

  I don’t think. I don’t speak. I don’t breathe.

  If this is a dream, I don’t want to do anything that’s gonna wake me up.

  Her eyes float closed and she pulls my head toward her the rest of the way, her lips so soft and gentle as they land on mine. My eyes pop open wide as shock sets in.

  Holy shit!

  Charlotte is kissing me?

  Charlotte is kissing me!

  I squeeze my eyes shut, wrapping my arms around her narrow waist as our lips press together.

  Suddenly, she pulls away, her hand flying to her mouth. “Oh no,” she mutters. “I’m so sorry, I shouldn't have done that. I’m sorry! I just got caught up...and you’re so great, and I wanted this for so long, and tomorrow it’ll be too late, and…”

  “Hey,” I say in a soft voice. “Don’t be sorry. I’m glad you did it. I, uh…” I smirk. “I always wanted to know what that would feel like.”

  “Really?” Her brows furrow. “So...how was it?”

  “Awesome,” I whisper. “So awesome, I want to do it again.”

  “Are you sure?” she asks, twisting a strand of her hair. “I didn’t ruin...”

  “You didn’t ruin anything, Char. You never could.”

  She takes a deep breath and nods. “Okay.”

  I scramble to my feet and sit next to her on the couch.

  Hurry up and wait.

  Huh. I’m not really sure how to play this. Should I wait for her? Or should I just go for it?

  But Charlotte doesn’t wait for my brain to make a decision.

  She makes it for me, thank God.

  Her lips taste like her favorite bubble-gum-flavored lip balm. The sweetness teases mine as my tongue parts her lips. I don’t have much experience with this stuff, but I do have older brothers, which has its benefits, especially when I overhear them talking about chicks.

  Charlotte presses against me, and I run my hands down her back. Her dress feels so soft and smooth, and my hands itch to graze other areas.

  But I don’t want to scare her or make her regret what we’re doing.

  I know it’s wrong, but I don’t care.

  Right now, the only thing I care about is how incredible she feels in my arms.

  Hey, Chuckie, guess what? I’ve got my tongue in your daughter’s mouth right now!

  Screw you, dickhead.

  One of my hands, though, moves on its own, ignoring my brain and going in for the feel. My fingers creep around to the front of her dress, edging up her side until they land right next to her boob. She hasn’t stopped me, so that must mean she wants me to keep going, right?

  They creep closer, sliding over the top of her boob and giving it a little squeeze. She lets out a tiny moan, kissing me harder.

  She likes it!

  Hell yeah!

  Either I’m a god with this stuff, or she just doesn’t know any better.

  Either way, I’m sixteen and I’ll take it.

  Hey, Chuckie. Lottie’s a fan of boob action. Just wanted you to let you know. I hope you choke on your damn steak tonight, asshat.

  Panting, she pulls away. Her eyes flutter with lust, drowning me in her bright oceans.

  “Wait…” she mumbles under her breath.

  No!

  “What? Did I—?” My skin lights on fire as her gaze ignites every insecurity I have.

  “No, no. It’s not that. I have to tell you something…”

  Chapter 4

  Charlotte

  I have to tell you something… My own words buzz in my brain over and over. I have wanted Xander for so long, and now that I finally have him, I have to give it all up.

  Give him back.

  Lacing our fingers together, I lock my eyes on his strong hands. They felt incredible holding me, exploring me. And that kiss — those kisses. They were everything I ever imagined they would be, only a million times more special, more real, more...well, everything to me. He means everything.

  How am I supposed to break his heart right now? How can I be cruel to the absolute best friend I have ever had?

  “I’m leaving in the morning,” I finally allow the words to slip from my quivering lips.

  But I can’t look up. I can’t look into his dark stormy eyes to see what the awful news is doing to him. I can’t let him see how broken I am at the thought of leaving my life here.

  Leaving him.

  My heart feels like it’s just been shattered into a million pieces, rattling around in my hollowed-out chest, the shards cutting deeper and deeper with every passing second.

  “What do you mean you’re leaving? Like on a trip?” His words break free, rapidly firing off with little cracks of hopefulness lacing them. “That’ll be fun. A little break before the next quarter starts.”

  I give my head a violent shake, still staring at my hands. Tears sting my eyes, my throat as dry as the Sahara.

  The happiness I felt seconds ago has been replaced with my devastating reality.

  Our reality.

  “Then what is it, Char? Where are you going?” Xander’s warm hand cradles my cheek, and for a moment, I let myself melt against his touch. His thumb brushes over my bottom lip as it trembles. I let everything else fall away as I selfishly indulge in one last perfect moment. I tip my head toward him, grazing my lips against his one
last time, trying to occupy his lips from asking any more questions...questions I’m not ready to answer. I try to memorize how they feel — the softness, the longing. I want to remember how incredible they taste, a memory that I’ll have to cherish and hold tight until I’m back on this side of the Atlantic.

  Forcing myself to inch away from Xander again, I suck in a deep breath, breaking the kiss.

  It’s now or never.

  I find a small ember of courage. “My father is sending me away.” I take a shuddering breath. “To London.”

  “Why? Is there some showjumping competition they want you to do with a new horse they found?” he says with a sarcastic smirk, tilting my face upward.

  “N-no. It’s not for a competition.”

  “Okay, so what’s the deal? And when will you be back?”

  “That’s the thing. I’m not coming back...not for a long time, anyway.” The tears spill over, streaming down my cheeks. “They’re sending me away for s-school,” I whisper. “Boarding school. They told me just before you came over.”

  My eyes snap to his deep irises where an inferno builds in the depths.

  “Boarding school?” he says, falling to his knees in front of me. “And you knew the whole time I was here that you were leaving…when you kissed—” He sweeps a hand through his dark hair, looking away from me. “Your father...he knew it when he saw me come through that door.” His voice hardens and his jaw clenches along with his fists. “So they tell you to jump and you say how high, right?”

  “It’s not like I have a choice with this, Xan! I’m only sixteen! It’s not like I can walk away from my parents and my life!”

  “You know, you say how much you hate being controlled like a puppet, but here you are again, letting him win because you never stand up for yourself! I’ve watched you cower and complain about it for years, but you never take a stand for what you want. Jesus, how much time do you spend at the stables each week? A place you absolutely hate but never say a bad word about? Other than to me?”

  “I don’t want to go, Xan! They’re making me go!” The level of desperation in my voice rises, my pulse throbbing against my neck. This wasn’t the kind of conversation I wanted to have tonight! I should still be in his arms right now, snuggled against him, feeling his arms wrapped tight around me.