Blinded: A High School Bully Romance (Del Sol High Book 1)

by McKayla Box

  We're in Mercy's car, driving home. Reese was just walking away when Mercy found me in the lot and she wanted to know what had gone on because she said I looked rattled.

  And I knew that I did.

  “I know,” I tell her. “It's just...I don't know. It's hard being new here.”

  “It's hard being new anywhere,” Mercy says. “But don't let one nasty bag of trash like Reese make it harder for you.” She glances at me, smiling. “You've got friends now. You're not alone and we know how to deal with Reese's garbage. It'll be okay.”

  I appreciate her words, but I'm not sure I believe them. It's easy for her to say. She's lived here a long time. She has her life. And she's not trying to hide anything.

  “What time am I picking you up tonight?” she asks.

  “Tonight?”

  “For the party?”

  “Uh. What party?”

  She slows to a stop at the stop sign, checks both ways, then we start moving again. “The first night of school party? You didn't hear anything about it?”

  I shake my head. “No.”

  “Oh, wow,” she says. “Okay. So, every year, the senior class throws a big blowout on the first night of school. It's supposed to be seniors only, but there'll be underclassmen, too. It's just a massive hang. It's super fun. And you're coming.”

  “Well, I don't know,” I say. “I'll have to ask my grandparents.”

  “It's a Friday night,” she says. “So it's not even like a school night. I mean, it’s complete garbage that we start on Friday, anyway, you know? What fucking school starts classes on a Friday? Anyway, if your grandparents have lived her for a while, I guarantee they'll know about it. Tell them it'll be a good chance to meet people and stuff.”

  I look out the window. “Maybe.”

  “What's wrong?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Nola, come on,” she says. “What's wrong?”

  I look at the big houses as we drive through the neighborhood towards my house.

  Correction.

  Toward the house I share with my grandparents.

  I don't recall seeing a single house in central Florida that came close in size to any of them. The houses in my old neighborhood would be out of place here.

  Just like me.

  “I don't know,” I say. “I'm just not sure I'm up for a party tonight.”

  “I want you to come,” she says. “You'll feel better if you come.”

  I laugh. “How is that?”

  “Because you'll see familiar faces,” she says. “When we go to school on Monday, you'll recognize people. Right now you feel like everything is new. And it'll give us a chance to hang out. And Dylan and Brooke will be there, too.”

  “And Reese and Bree and Fallon,” I say. “And what the hell kind of name is Fallon anyway?”

  Mercy laughs. “I think it's an old vampire name or something. Look. Yeah, they'll be there, but so what? They aren't going away anytime soon and the sooner you get used to that, the better. The sooner you show them that you aren't here for their bullshit, the better. Coming tonight is a way of showing them that.” She glances at me. “And I'll have your back.”

  “You're a good sales person,” I tell her.

  She turns into the circular drive in front of the house. “Am I? So you're coming?”

  “Maybe,” I say.

  She pulls around the drive and parks parallel to the front door. “Come on, Nola.”

  “What's Archer's deal anyway?” I ask, changing the subject.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I don't know,” I say. “Just...what's his story?”

  She thinks for a second. “Well, he's lived here since we were kids. His dad is insane rich. I have no idea what his grades are like, but I've heard he's crazy smart. He's obviously great looking and he knows it. He surfs a ton.” She shrugs. “He's sort of worshipped around here, if you're into that thing.”

  “You're not?”

  “I think I've known him too long,” she says. “He's like the asshole brother I never wanted.”

  We both laugh.

  “If you're asking me if you should be into him, my answer is no,” she says. “That guy leaves a trail of carnage behind him. And the trail is long, girl. He gets bored fast and he cuts the line without even thinking about it.” She smiles. “I know those eyes and that hair can pull you in, but he loves his own reflection more than he loves anyone else.” She pauses. “But he will be there tonight. Because it's at his house. Which has to be seen to be believed.”

  “Why?”

  “It just does,” she says. “So you'll come?”

  She's right. I can't hide forever and if I don't want to feel like an outsider, this will be a way to help fix that. Part of me is a little worried that Reese will see it as another opportunity to come after me, but again, Mercy is right. The only way to get her to back up is to keep showing up. Even when I don’t want to.

  “Yeah,” I finally say. “I'll come.”

  Chapter 11

  “How was your day, dear?” my grandmother asks.

  I'm sprawled out on the sofa in the living room after Mercy drops me off and she's just gotten home from...somewhere. My grandfather is nowhere to be found.

  “It was fine,” I say, sitting up.

  She sits down on the opposite end of the leather sectional. “Just fine? Give me details.”

  “I found all my classes,” I tell her. “It's a lot harder than my old school, I think.”

  She nods. “Rigorous, yes. But you can handle it, I'm certain. Did you make any friends?”

  “I talked to some people, yeah. I had lunch with a few girls.”

  “With Reese? I assume she got you to school on time?”

  “Uh, actually, she didn't,” I tell her. “I guess there was some sort of mix up. Miguel ending up taking me.”

  She frowns. “Miguel had to take you? Why didn't you call us?”

  “It was too late and I didn't want to be late on the first day,” I say. “It was fine. He got me there and it worked out.”

  Her lips pinch together. “I was promised that Reese would pick you up. Did you meet her at least?”

  I pause. “Yeah. I met her.”

  “Did she apologize?”

  “Um, yes. I think she just got her wires crossed,” I say. “It was no big deal. Honest. And another girl gave me a ride home. Mercy King.”

  Her frown gives way to a smile. “Oh, I know the Kings. They are lovely people and Mercy is adorable.”

  “She was super nice,” I say. “She took me to lunch and introduced me to a few people. So that was all good.”

  “I'm glad you met up with her,” she says. “But I'm still annoyed that Reese stood you up. I'll be speaking with Ruth about that.”

  “You don't have to do that.”

  “And yet I'm going to,” she says. “That is inexcusable. And rude.”

  “Please don't make it into a big thing,” I say. “Really. It's alright.”

  She fiddles with the enormous diamond stud in her earlobe. “I won't embarrass you, I promise. But I'm very disappointed that it occurred. But I am delighted that Mercy saved the day.”

  “She did,” I tell her. “She really did. And she invited me to a party tonight.”

  My grandmother raises an eyebrow. “The party?”

  “I guess? She just told me about it before she dropped me off.”

  “I have heard horror stories about this party for years,” she says, pinching the bridge of her nose. “But your grandfather and I promised you that we would do our best to give you some room, and I do want you making friends here.” She eyes me for a moment. “You will make good decisions?”

  “I won't do anything dumb,” I say. “Mercy just really wants me to go and I guess I should to get to know other people.”

  “You won't be out too late?”

  “I can come home whenever you'd like.”

  “Just remember that we have breakfast at the club in the morning,” s
he says. “Your grandfather truly treasures taking you to the club and showing you off on Saturday mornings.”

  I laugh. “Okay. I'll make sure I get up and get ready.”

  “Do you know where the party is this year?” she asks.

  “At this guy's house,” I say. “Archer Hays.”

  She stares at me. “Archer Hays?”

  I nod. “Yeah, that's what Mercy said. Why?”

  “That boy...” Her voice trails off, then she shakes her head. “I shouldn't be so judgmental. That family has had their own trials and I need to remember that.” She glances at me. “It's no different than people judging you when they don't know the whole story.”

  I reflexively look down at my own lap. The feeling of shame that lives inside of me punches me in the stomach.

  “Nola,” she says, scooting over to me. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to just throw that out there like that.”

  “I know,” I say. “It's okay.”

  But it's never okay.

  “I just mean that how you were treated after what went on with your mother wasn't fair,” she says. “You didn't do a thing and it was cruel how you were treated.”

  I nod, but don't say anything.

  Because there's nothing to say.

  “The Hays family,” she says. “They've gone through some things, too. And I don't know the boy well, so I should try and keep an open mind.” She eyes me. “Did you meet him today?”

  “I did.”

  “And?”

  I shrug. “I don't know. I met him at lunch. That was about it.”

  A tight smile slides onto her mouth. “He's very good-looking, isn't he?”

  “Grandma.”

  She chuckles. “What? You think an old woman like me doesn't notice those things? Well, we do. And Archer is a very handsome young man.” She pauses. “But he's been known to get himself into a bit of trouble.”

  “Mercy already warned me,” I say. “And I barely spoke to him. Besides, there are supposed to be a ton of people at his house tonight, so it's not like I'm going there to see him.”

  She holds her hands up in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. I just wanted to make sure you knew.” She pauses for a moment and lets her hands fall back to her lap. She touches my knee. “Nola. I know you've been through a lot. I know that...with everything. With your father not...and then your mother doing what...” She pauses, then sighs. “I'm not sure what I'm trying to say. I'm sorry.”

  “It's okay,” I tell her. “You don't have to say anything.”

  She takes my hand and squeezes it. “I just want you to know that your grandfather and I are happy you are here. This isn't a burden on us. We are thrilled to have you living with us and to finally get to know you. And we just want you to be happy.” She smiles. “You deserve that.”

  She leans over and gives me an awkward hug, one of those where neither of us knows where to put our arms.

  I want to tell her that I'm glad to be here, too, but I can't find the words. Glad isn't the right word. I'm grateful they were willing to take me in. Because I had nowhere else to go. So I know I'm lucky to be sitting here in the living room, awkwardly hugging her.

  But I'm no longer sure of what I deserve.

  Chapter 12

  I have dinner with both of my grandparents and I recount the day for my grandfather, telling him the same things I told my grandmother. He's just as perturbed that Reese didn't pick me up, but he doesn't seem as determined to do something about it as she does. He, too, reminds me about breakfast at the club in the morning and I assure him I'll be up and ready on time. He slips me another twenty-dollar bill when my grandmother takes dishes to the sink, patting my shoulder and winking at me.

  I take way too long trying to find something to wear. I have a closet full of new clothes, but they don't feel like mine, so I don't have any real go-to outfits. I finally settle on a pair of white denim shorts and a pale blue V-neck T-shirt that I've never worn. I touch up my makeup, put earrings in, grab my sandals, and walk outside just as Mercy is pulling up.

  Dylan and Brooke are already in the car and I slide into the backseat with Dylan.

  “You look hot,” she says, grinning at me.

  “Do I?” I say. “Thanks. I didn't know what to wear.”

  “You're great,” Mercy says as we pull away. “It's a house party. No need to get super dressed up.”

  “People will probably be spilling booze on you anyway,” Brooke says over her shoulder.

  The mention of alcohol freezes me for a moment, but I don't say anything.

  “Your grandparents' house is cool,” Dylan says. “My mom knows your grandma. I told her you were going with us tonight. She was all 'oh that's so nice of you to take the new girl.' I had to inform her that this was not a pity invite and that we actually wanted you to come along.”

  I laugh. “Thanks. I think.”

  “You know what I mean,” Dylan says. “I didn't want her thinking you were the weird foreign exchange kid from Turkey that we felt bad for.”

  We all laugh.

  “How long have you been here?” Brooke asks. “In Del Sol, I mean.”

  “Just a few weeks,” I tell her.

  “And I don't mean to be a total bitch, but why did you move here?” she asks.

  It's the question I've been dreading the most because I'm not entirely sure how I'm going to answer it.

  “My mom said something about college?” Mercy says, eyeing me in the rearview mirror.

  “Um, yeah,” I say. “I know it's weird, but my grandparents offered to have me live with them and then I could have residency to go to a California school after I graduate and not have it cost a fortune. Plus, my high school in Florida wasn't all that great and we thought it would be good to go to a better high school.”

  “Man, oh, man,” Dylan says. “And you just up and packed up? You're braver than I am, girlie.”

  I am anything but brave.

  “And your parents are cool with that?” Brooke says. “My parents barely let me out of the house. They'd never let me move across the country, no matter who I was living with.”

  “Um, well, yeah,” I say. “She...I mean, my mom. She just wants what's best for me.”

  Which, technically, is true.

  “What about your dad?” Dylan says. “My dad freaks out when I don't answer a text within about forty seconds.”

  I look out the window. “Well...my dad. He, uh, he's been sick for a long time and, uh, he's just...not like that.”

  The car is quiet for a moment.

  My stomach is a tangle of knots.

  “I'm sorry,” Dylan says, touching my forearm. “I didn't mean to get up in your business.”

  “Yeah, me neither,” Brooke says, twisting around. “Sorry.”

  “It's okay,” I say, silently praying they'll leave it all alone. “I just don't like to talk much about it.”

  That is true, too. I don't talk about my family much at all, even to my grandparents. But I think about them constantly.

  There's just nothing to say.

  “Where do you wanna go to school?” Dylan asks.

  I'm grateful for the shift away from my family. “I don't even know yet. Do you?”

  “Arizona,” she says. “It's warm, the campus is awesome, and the boys are delicious.”

  The other girls laugh.

  “Priorities,” Mercy says.

  “Oh, sorry,” Dylan says. “We can't all be brainiac hippies who wanna go to Berkley.”

  “I'm not a brainiac or a hippie,” Mercy argues.

  “Maybe not a hippie, but definitely a brainiac,” Brooke says.

  “Okay, Miss Ivy League or Bust,” Mercy says.

  “Seriously,” Dylan says. “You're gonna ditch us for the East Coast and then probably marry some asshole who talks with a Boston accent and go to the Cape every summer while you discuss literature or some shit.”

  Brooke laughs and shakes her head.

  I'm envious that they all have a pl
an for next year. And that they are aiming to get into such good schools. I just want into any school that will have me, but I'm not even sure if I'll get in. Or how I'll pay for it. They all seem to have a roadmap for what they are going to do.

  I don't have anything.

  “Okay, enough of this serious shit,” Dylan says. “I would like to have a good time tonight and that is going to mean I'll be hooking up with someone. You ladies will be expected to help me select the big winner.”

  “Don't you mean the victim?” Brooke asks.

  “Victim. Winner. One and the same,” she says.

  We all laugh as Mercy takes us down near the beach, then follows the road that slopes up sharply above the coast, the ocean dropping away beneath us. The twisty road zigzags back and forth as we climb, then descend on the other side. Cars begin lining the side of the road and she pulls in behind one of them.

  “We'll have to walk in,” Mercy says, shutting off the engine. “It's already crowded.”

  I lean forward, craning my neck to look in front of us. “All of these cars are for the party?”

  “Yeah, we got closer than I thought,” Mercy says.

  “But I can't even see the house,” I say.

  All three of them laugh.

  “You will,” Brooke says. “You will. And you still won't believe it.”

  We get out of the car. The night air is cool, but it feels good, like summer is still sticking around. The stars are bright in the navy-colored sky. I don't remember the sky looking this way in Florida.

  Mercy holds out the key fob in her hand and the rear hatch to her Cherokee pops open. We walk around to the back. There's a cardboard box filled with red plastic cups and bottles of alcohol.

  My stomach knots.

  “As always, a big thanks to Brooke's parents for overstocking their bar and not noticing when things go missing,” Dylan says.

  Brooke chuckles. “They have a small liquor store in the house.”

  I see a bottle of vodka, a bottle of rum, some wine coolers, and some soda.

  Mercy hands each of us a red cup. “Brooke and Mercy are vodka girls, but I prefer rum. What is your drink of choice, Nola?”

  I hold the cup, thinking about what I want to say. I don't want to be the wet blanket at the party, but I really don't want to drink, either. I don't care if they do. I really don't. But I have a block ever since everything happened in Florida and I know that just a taste of any of it will make me vomit. But I also know that if I pass on all of it, there will be questions.