Manic: A Dark Bully Romance

by Rose, Savannah

She nodded, looking completely defeated. I wanted to help her, but I didn’t know what to say. I hated that she felt that way about herself. I hated that after all the years that she and I had spent together, albeit off and on, that her opinion of herself hadn’t changed. Or maybe it had. Maybe I’d made it worse. I thought on it while I went to find Eddie.

  He was down in the game room cleaning up trash, dressed in the same robe and jeans he’d been wearing the night before. “Morning, sunshine,” he said cheerfully.

  “Yeah, shut up,” I said. “You told me you’d keep an eye on Arlena last night.”

  He grinned at me. “Yeah, but I never said it would be just my eye. She’s got a hot little mouth, you didn’t think I’d pass up that opportunity, did you?”

  I brushed it off, though I really wanted to hit him in the mouth for saying it. “That’s not even what I’m talking about. Where is she now, Eddie?”

  He shrugged. “I dunno, probably drove herself home.”

  “Probably?”

  Eddie shifted uneasily. “All right, look man. Chrissy, you know Chrissy? With the tits?”

  I rubbed my temple. “Yup.”

  “Okay, so Arlena wasn’t feelin’ it, and Chrissy was, so obviously I’m not about to pass that up, you know? I gotta get it while the gettin’ is good.”

  I didn’t say anything, just stared at him with rage frozen on my face. He puttered around, picking up trash and casting furtive glances in my direction.

  “Okay, okay, I’m sorry. All right? I’m sorry. But she was in my house, nobody was gonna mess with her.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “You really believe that? Really?”

  “Well, yeah,” he said, frowning. “Why, what’s up?”

  “I found her on the bathroom floor,” I said, my voice flat with fury. “Clothes all rumpled, marker all over her face.”

  Eddie shrugged and snickered. “Party pranks, man. Never be the first one to pass out. Lesson learned, right? Come on, man, it’s a rite of passage, where’s your sense of humor?”

  “Guess I broke it,” I said, my voice shaking as it grew louder. “When I found her smashed-up car!”

  Eddie paled. “You what?”

  “Yeah,” I said angrily. “Someone went out there and smashed the shit out of Arlena’s car, covered it in spray paint, dented it all to hell. Is that a fucking party prank?”

  He raised his hands and backed away. “Look, man. I don’t know anything about that, and you just told me to keep an eye on the girl, not on her car. If some random vandal—”

  “A random vandal who used all the same language that was written all over her face?”

  He smirked, then suppressed it. “There’s only so many ways to make the same point,” he said.

  I narrowed my eyes at him. “If you were anyone else I’d kick your ass right now.”

  “Yeah, but I’m not,” Eddie said with an easy grin. “I’m Eddie. I’m king. And you’re only here because I let you be. There’s your rite of passage, Blayze. Don’t let anybody have that much power over your life. Why do you think I always own my own shit? Don’t rely on nobody.”

  “Well,” I said quietly. “I’ll certainly remember not to rely on you.”

  The grin fell away from his face and anger flashed in his eyes. “You want me to babysit your girlfriends, get more friendly girlfriends.”

  I hit him for that one.

  23

  Since I clearly wasn’t welcome in Eddie’s house after kicking his ass, I’d talked my mom into letting me stay with her for a few days until I could make other arrangements. She wasn’t happy about it, but I wasn’t happy about sleeping on a baby-pink velvet couch either, so I figured we were even. On Monday morning I left early and swung by Arlena’s house. She was waiting for me outside.

  “Good morning,” she said cheerfully as she climbed into my truck.

  I studied her face, expecting to see signs of tears or exhaustion, but she looked fine. “So I guess your parents took it well?”

  She shrugged. “I mean, they were disappointed, and Dad said my next car was going to be a second-hand piece of crap, but that suits me fine anyway. They’re a little worried about me.”

  “Just a little?”

  “Yeah,” she said. “I mean, I didn’t tell them everything, and my mom has a lot of confidence in my ability to deal with things—more than she should have, I think—and my dad sort of always believes that everything will turn out okay just because he thinks it should. So they’re pretty confident that I’m going to be fine. Though, to be fair, my dad might double down on the protection. Sometimes he’s calm on the outside, but cooking up a storm in his head.”

  I nodded. “Then let’s hope they’re right and that you’ll be fine.”

  I dropped her off a block away like we’d agreed, then I pulled into the parking lot. I would have brought her all the way, but I didn’t want to make any kind of statement until I knew more about who was behind the vandalism and everything else. I wouldn’t want to piss off the wrong person and inadvertently throw Arlena to the wolves. For the moment it was better if we still kept our distance.

  Even though it was early, there was a crowd of people by the door. Excited, agitated chatter reached me and I frowned. Was the school closed for the day or something? I spotted Sam in the crowd and made my way to her.

  “What’s going on?” I asked.

  Her eyes were cold and full of fury. “Look.” She shoved a piece of paper into my hand. It was another flier, and everybody seemed to be holding one. I glanced down at it, then looked again.

  “What the fuck.”

  It was a photo of Arlena, almost exactly the way she’d been when I found her. Almost. In the picture, her breasts and underwear were fully exposed, along with a lot of words I hadn’t seen on Saturday night. A thick, black rage filled my mind, clouding it. I couldn’t think straight. Hell, I couldn’t even see straight.

  “Who did this, Blayze?” Sam demanded.

  “I don’t know,” I told her. “But when I find out—”

  Sam grabbed my face in her hands and glared into my eyes. “When you find out, you tear them apart. I mean it. Nobody deserves this, not her, not anybody. Tear them into little tiny pieces and shove those pieces up their ass. You turn them inside out, you hear me?”

  “I hear you,” I said. “I thought you didn’t like her?”

  She dropped her hands and glared at me. “I don’t like cats either, but I’m not gonna stand by and watch one get skinned. This ends now.”

  But it was just beginning.

  24

  I was in a surprisingly good mood. The morning was cold, but not bitterly so, and the sun was shining. Spring was well on its way, even though piles of dirty snow still lingered in the shadows. I hummed a little bit to myself as I walked that last block, basking in the good mood that always lingers after I’ve spent a little bit of time with Blayze.

  I might have dawdled a little too much. By the time I passed through the gate, most people were already there, standing in a huge crowd by the door. I didn’t think anything of it, though I should have. Nobody seemed to be going inside, but I assumed it was just because it was so nice outside. My guard wasn’t up as high as it should have been, but I was tired of walking around with my guard up. The stalker had already killed my car. What more could anybody really do to me?

  Conversations stopped as I approached. Every head swiveled to look at me. I slowed down, stepping tentatively closer. There were hundreds of people between me and the door, but they parted as I approached, letting me through. The people nearest me stared silently. Those a little further back were whispering, and those whispers spread like hissing flames through the crowd.

  I made it halfway through before the fireball exploded. Someone shouted, “whore!” and a plastic bottle half-full of liquid bounced off my skull hard enough to hurt. My hands shot up and I grabbed my head, covering it as more things were thrown.

  “Slut!”

  “Whore!”

&n
bsp; “Drunk bitch!”

  Ow, ow, ow, what the hell, what the hell. They weren’t letting me through anymore, pressing closer and closer, throwing fists now. I was sure I was going to die. I screamed, curling up in a little ball, trying to use my backpack as a shield until someone grabbed it, jerking me to my feet. I opened my eyes and found myself face-to-face with Blayze.

  “Back the fuck off!” he bellowed.

  Nobody threw anything else, but the seething masses were just waiting for a reason to start again.

  “Call off your dogs, you sack of shit!” he shouted out into the crowd. “Arlena’s under my protection.”

  He pulled me close and dipped his head, hesitating a hairsbreadth from my lips. I closed the gap gratefully, letting him kiss me, and wrapped my arms around him. My brain was buzzing with danger bells, but I didn’t stop. He was safe. His arms were my safe place. My haven. My goddamn protection from the world. Except something in the world was sideways, now. Maybe even upside down.

  “Blayze, you traitor!” a voice roared. And then another followed suit, until they were chanting.

  “Cop lover!”

  “Traitor!”

  “Whore!”

  “Snitch.”

  “You keep Blayze’s name out of your mouth!” That one voice was met by many and seemingly out of nowhere, the crowd turned on itself. Some people lunged at Blayze and were taken out by other people who were hell bent on protecting him. A guy grabbed at me, his attack stopped when Blayze kicked out, landing a foot to his ribcage. Another swing at Blayze was narrowly dodge when someone else took them down. It was all blood and shouting and chaos, flying fists and kicking feet. I clung tight to Blayze, like he was a lifeline in all this disarray. Like he wasn’t just as screwed as I was.

  The seconds ticked on, feeling like eternities as we struggled and fought. My heart was in my throat, my mind a whirlwind of emotions. If someone didn’t manage to knock my lights out, I was sure my body would cave all on its own. The revving of an engine close by didn’t make matters any better. Panic surged through my veins even as the students started to scatter. Blayze latched his hand around my wrist as tight as he could manage. I moved with each step her took. Not really thinking, but still fully aware of the fact that he wasn’t dragging me away from the sound. He was dragging me toward it. As soon as the vehicle was in sight, he pulled opened the door, and shoved me in then dove inside himself, slamming the door with unmistakeable vengeance. The engine revved again and then we were moving.

  “Senior ditch day came early this year.” The voice was way too familiar, which posed more of a problem than a solution.

  “Sam?” I asked, fighting the terror that gripped my chest.

  “Yeah,” she said. “Quit trembling, I’m not gonna kill you.”

  Blayze shifted enough so I could sit up and Sam shot me a rueful smile. “I’m gonna get Blayze back for fucking with you,” she said in a low voice like she was telling me a secret. “I dunno, maybe hook up with his brother.”

  “Seriously!?” Blayze huffed a laugh and shook his head at her.

  Sam winked, but then her expression steeled. Letting out a breath, she handed me a piece of paper. I took it from her and could feel the blood leave my face as I looked at the picture. My throat tightened and my head spun.

  “Breathe,” Blayze said, gently prying the picture from my fingers. “It’s okay.”

  I shook my head. “It’s not, it’s not,” I said breathlessly. “It’s not fucking okay. I didn’t take the picture!”

  Sam sighed. “They would have to have brains to figure that out,” she said. “Besides, they aren’t pissed off because they saw you naked. They’re attacking you because it’s safer to do that. Because if someone hates you enough to put this out there, that means anybody who doesn’t hate you is a target by default.”

  “What?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t know how to explain this to you, hold on. Um—okay, so let’s say you’re in the jungle, right? Let’s say there’s one sick monkey. Another monkey goes and shares food with the monkey, then that monkey gets sick and dies. Well, the other monkeys aren’t going to go near that monkey. But let’s say the sick monkey approaches the other monkeys, trying to share food.”

  “Am I the sick monkey?” Arlena asked.

  “Shut up and listen, I’m not good at analogies and I’m losing track of what I’m saying. Okay, so the sick monkey tries to share food with the other monkeys, but the other monkeys know how that ends, so they throw shit at the monkey to drive it off. Now let’s say that one monkey doesn’t throw shit. The other monkeys are going to assume that it’s sick too, and they’re going to drive it off.”

  “So—they hate me because someone else hates me?”

  “They hate you because someone else hates you so much that they’d trash your car and spread naked pictures of you all over school. Someone out there really, really wants to torment you, and, if you ask me, I’d say they’re pretty fucking good at it. Good enough that it makes people not want to be around you. So yeah, nobody wants to be targeted like that, so they’re aligning themselves with the targeter to get out of the line of fire.” She shrugged as though this was completely fucking normal.

  “And why are you helping me?”

  She shot me a thin-lipped smile. “Because I know what it’s like to be a sick monkey,” she said. “And because I’m not a pussy-ass bitch.”

  I laughed. I couldn’t help it. The world had gotten so out of control so fast and now I was sitting on the bump seat between my ex boyfriend who just kissed me and his girlfriend who used to hate me—and who were, suddenly, the only friends I had left in the whole world.

  “So—to Eddie’s?” Sam asked.

  “No!” Blayze and I said the word at the same time. I looked at him curiously.

  He shrugged. “I might have punched him in the face yesterday. I’m giving him some time to cool down and come to terms with the fact that he fucking deserved it.”

  I opened my mouth to ask why, but shut it again. I didn’t really want to know.

  “Oh, by the way, Blayze, in case it wasn’t clear—I’m breaking up with you,” Sam hissed the words at him, but even then, it didn’t carry the venom she was known for.

  I stifled a smile and watched as Blayze grinned at her. “You always say the best things.”

  The drive continued with me trying to digest what the hell was going on. I wasn’t really certain I was capable of processing even a fraction of it. Somehow, despite the fact that this was simply the middle of the storm, it felt a heck of a lot like the storm itself. The letters, the dead cat, the blood, and now this. A smart person would decide that yes, this is the time to back away, to leave, to disappear, to make Burnaby High a part of my past. Sam’s reference about the monkeys made sense, I guess. And that sick monkey, unless he was in it to the death, retreating was the only option he had.

  There was some chatter from Sam, all of it going in on one ear and out the other until she cocked her head to the left. “There goes the cavalry,” she said and she wasn’t wrong.

  A mass of police cars whizzed by with their sirens wailing, creating even more chaos in this already chaotic world.

  “Think they’re heading to the school?”

  Sam nodded. “It’s a full-on riot by now, guaranteed.”

  I shook my head. “I don’t know how you guys survive around here. Honestly.”

  “We don’t always,” Sam said. “And those of us who do, pick up some real fucking bad habits in the process.”

  The mood in the car grew even heavier in the moments that went by. I watched old hurts and bad memories flash across Sam’s face. And Blayze, he had the same sort of faraway pensive look, but his was touched with anger while hers was touched with sadness. For a moment, I wondered how much of this was really my fault. If I hadn’t shown up here, where would they be right now? How happy would they be? How at peace would they be? And Blayze’s brother, would he be in jail? Of course, it wasn’t fair to
try to shoulder all their hurt, but there was a part of me that couldn’t help it. Dad had a way of shaking up communities. Most of the times I didn’t get to see the brunt of it. Right now, though, I was smack in the middle, a victim to every shift and every quake. His save the world campaign was taking bad guys off the streets, no doubt. But there was no questioning that there were consequences for that too; innocent people getting hurt.

  When the thoughts became too much, I turned to Sam and then to Blayze. “Who wants breakfast?” I asked. “It’s on me.”

  “That’s what I like to hear,” Sam said happily and for a quick second, it felt like a win. “I don’t know if Blayze ever told you, but free food? It’s my favorite thing ever.”

  25

  It was weird to hang out with both of them at once. Sam seemed different now, the way she always did after we broke up. Calmer, nicer, less vengeance raging in her blood. It was the part of her that always sucked me back in, but I was beginning to realize that I would never be the one who gets to share that with her in any capacity except friendship. There was something about me, or us as a couple, that twisted her up. Now she was free again, and relaxed.

  Arlena was happy, too. Treating us to a meal seemed to do something for her, put her back in her zone or something. All at once she was confident, playful, bantering with Sam and swapping stories. I sat back, grinning, absorbing what is certainly the best few minutes I’ve had in a long fucking time. I tuned back into the conversation at the tail end of one of Sam’s stories.

  “So then the doorman says, ‘you’re back again?’ and I’m like what are you talking about, I’ve never even been here!”

  Arlena threw back her head and laughed. It sounded like music, reaching all the way into the depths of my soul. “Oh my god, I would have paid to see the look on his face,” she said.

  “It was freaking glorious,” Sam cackled. “I wish I’d gotten a picture.”

  “Oh my God, so this one time,” Arlena said, sitting up a little straighter. “Speaking of wishing you had a camera. So it was my first time horseback riding, right. I was supposed to be in the beginner class because, you know, I’m a beginner, right? But because I was already twelve and because every girl in the area had been riding horses for basically forever—”