Pretty Lies: A contemporary YA Romance (Astrid Scott Series Book 1)

by Blake Blessing

  “Freda?” He looked to Beck.

  “Her car, man. She named her car Freda.” Beck smirked, and it seemed to please him that he knew this detail about me when Thatcher hadn’t.

  Thatcher twisted around to see my dear Freda, parked all by her lonesome with a shiny new headlight and one slightly yellowed one. Courtesy of Beck’s charity.

  Two vehicles whipped around the corner of the shopping complex, one an old, canary yellow, beat up Honda, and a shiny black Range Rover. One parked on either side of my Jeep. The Range Rover flexed on every car in the lot, but Rhys acted like it wasn’t anything special to drive such a nice SUV.

  This ought to be fun.

  Jonah climbed out of his car at the same time Rhys stepped down from his ride. With a hostile look at Rhys, Jonah approached us, faltering when he saw Beck with me. The things Beck said implied he hardly knew Jonah, but that didn’t ring quite true. Not if Jonah was weary around Beck too.

  “What’s he doing here?” Beck growled.

  What was his deal? I liked Beck, but he needed to get over what it was with Jonah. He was shooting hostile looks his way and being too judgy. Even I could see Jonah wasn’t the criminal Beck thought him to be. Or would become. But we couldn’t really judge people on who they could be, now could we?

  Rhys completely ignored Jonah and only had eyes for me as he passed him. It seemed to knock him back to reality and he followed Rhys until they stood side-by-side, facing Beck and Thatcher.

  It was weird and awkward having these guys together. I could have handled them better individually, but all together, the testosterone and hot guy vibes were too strong, threatening to melt me into a puddle of Astrid goo.

  Rhys was the first to make any sort of move. He held his hand out to Beck, who took it without question.

  “Beck, I would say it’s good to see you, but both times it’s been under less than favorable situations.” Rhys, the serious Viking that he was, nodded to Thatcher and held out his hand. “I’m Rhys.”

  “Thatcher.” He shook his hand and then held his out to Jonah, who begrudgingly took it. Jonah might have wanted to let me know what had happened at school, but he didn’t seem crazy about walking into our unlikely circle.

  “Jonah,” he dropped clenched fists to his thighs. “Now that we’ve had awkward as fuck introductions, we’d like to speak with Astrid.” He sent a less than thrilled look at Rhys, but he ignored it.

  That made me wonder what went down between them at school. I’d never seen them together and shared no mutual friends as far as I knew.

  “Wait, if Astrid’s in some kind of trouble, then I insist on being here. I’m her partner in crime after all.” Beck smoothed his hand down his chest.

  I almost wanted to smile, before I remembered why Jonah was here. The real question was, why was Rhys? The possibilities were too numerous, and I couldn’t torture myself by speculating. I’d rather they rip the band aid off so I could go ahead and start working on removing the ugly sticky residue from my skin. Or in this case, figure out a way to do damage control over what was bound to be a public fiasco when I got back to school. Just that thought caused my palms to sweat.

  “I don’t know,” Rhys started, scratching his head. He glanced at me and I studied Beck and Thatcher.

  Beck had crossed over into the friend realm, and since we bonded over trespassing, I didn’t really mind him being here for the conversation. No, that was a lie. This was going to be awkward as hell and maybe even a bit humiliating. I would rather have as few people here as possible.

  “It’s about something at school. It would bore you guys to death. You don’t have to stay.” I shrugged like this was no big deal, but by the way Thatcher quirked a brow, I doubt he bought it.

  “I think I’d like to stay. After all, I’m invested in your future now.” His words were light, but his eyes were serious.

  “Me too. Jail bait needs me.”

  Nice. Now he was spreading that little term of endearment far and wide.

  Jonah looked to me as if asking for permission. Beck and Thatcher watched the other two, clearly not going anywhere. As much as it pained me, if I wanted to find out what was going on now, I was going to have to let them be here for this. It was either that, or try and get Jonah to meet me later. Or I could always sneak back over to Rhys house, he had as many if not more illicit details on the inner workings of the rally.

  I sighed and motioned for Jonah to go ahead.

  “After you left, the rally continued without you, obviously. I don’t think anyone will really care about who you are. But that’s not the important part. Rhys might want to take it from here.” Jonah was even saltier than he was when I met him in the hallway, so something must have happened at school. From the glares he kept shooting Rhys, I didn’t need three guesses to know who was the cause.

  Jonah’s jaw flexed as he waited for Rhys to speak, and it was the completely wrong time for me to admire the understated masculinity of his features. The intense stare and flexing jaw was so sexy. I needed my camera.

  “Astrid,” Rhys pulled my attention back to him, and it pained me to witness the guilt weighing down his frame.

  I tensed. Why was he guilty? It wasn’t a trick of the lighting in the gym. He knew why I was nominated and for whatever reason, he felt guilty.

  “It wasn’t a mistake you were nominated. I talked to Ashley and she didn’t even try to lie to me. Her group likes to pick on a random girl every year, it’s never pretty and it’s always messy. They’ve decided it’s you this year.” He grimaced.

  I jumped up out of the swing in shock. Actually it was fury. I had to have misheard him. This wasn’t some Mean Girls remake. Girls didn’t actually bully other girls that way. Reality popped my righteous indignation, and I slumped over. Of course girls bullied other girls, I had seen that and worse over the years. I had never been naïve about the cruelty and manipulation that made the world go round. That’s why I never really had any friends anyway. Well, that and my overbearing parents.

  “That’s unfortunate. But why would you feel any responsibility?”

  His eyes widened. Was he surprised I could see him so clearly? He shouldn’t have been, he hid his emotions about as well as my dad hid his disdain for gay people.

  Beck and Thatcher stepped closer, crowding behind me as if to offer comfort for whatever Rhys was about to lay at my canvas covered shoes.

  Rhys ran his hand over his short hair, and I recognized it for the stalling tactic that it was. Admittedly, I didn’t know him very well, but this seemed out of character for him. Steady and silent, definitely. Uncertain and spineless, no. I stepped forward, into his bubble and tried to give him the most reassuring face that I could.

  “They didn’t pick you at random. Trey told them to target you this year.” He word vomited it all out in a rush and I wanted to say I was stunned, but really, something like this was in the back of my mind.

  “What does that mean?” Thatcher stepped up to my side, the furious slant of his brow catching my attention. “Who the hell is Trey?”

  “Trey is the ass wipe of the school. He thinks he reigns supreme because of who his family is.” Jonah cut in bitterly.

  And wasn’t that curious. What had he done to Jonah for him to feel that harshly? A part of my heart went out to him, like me, he couldn’t seem to catch a break when it came to the kids at school. He was now officially part of my friend circle. Only he didn’t know it yet.

  Rhys nodded his head in total agreement. There was apparently no love lost between him and his cousin.

  “Trey’s my cousin. He’s been with us for two years and he’s been a terror since day one.” Rhys’ lip curled. “I tried to keep him under control the first year, but it’s useless. He does what he wants, and I can’t even go to my parents. My dad encourages the behavior.” He shook his head and leaned on the swing set pole as if he needed the support.

  Beck placed a warm hand on my shoulder. “The question is, how are you going to fix this
for Astrid?” His voice deepened and fun, playful Beck was gone. I glanced up and his fierce expression both warmed and scared me.

  “I can’t. These girls are ruthless once they get someone in their sights. I can’t even rein in Trey.” Rhys tossed his hands up and started pacing. “I can threaten Trey but he doesn’t care. I could beat his ass, but he’d laugh like it was all one big joke.”

  He was clearly distraught and getting more agitated by the second.

  “I’ve seen what they do to girls, but you’re practically a recluse at school. Maybe they won’t be able to do that much to you.” Jonah sounded like he had about a thimble full of hope he was right.

  “How do you know?” I hardly ever saw him except for a few passings in the hallway.

  His cheeks tinged with pink and he looked away. “I see you around. I tend to haunt the library like you do, only I’m usually in the back.”

  “Damn. That sucks. I wish there was something we could do to help.” Thatcher said absently as he glanced back toward the shopping center, like he’d find the answers in the filthy dumpster.

  “Yeah, this is not a problem I can help you with, pretty girl.” Beck turned me to face him, showing me with his eyes just how sorry he was that he couldn’t help.

  “It’s not a big deal.” It was totally a big deal. “I didn’t expect you all to help me. Honestly, I’m grateful to have a heads up. That’s more than I would have ever gotten before.” At the old school, Stace and I would have had to fend for ourselves. There wasn’t a sense of camaraderie at all. That was probably why I was so stunned by their strangely sweet behavior. Any minute I worried the punchline would drop on my head.

  Around me, these guys that barely knew anything about me showed more compassion and empathy than I’d ever received before. It was humbling and awe inspiring all at the same time. Were we friends? Did I want this friendship? As my gaze landed on each face, from Rhys’ apology, to Jonah’s determination, Beck’s regret, and then finally, Thatcher’s quiet anger, maybe I did.

  If these girls were hell bent on destroying the calm senior year I’d hoped for, as I fought my way out of my parent’s house, it would fatally divide my attention. I was strong and steady on the outside, mentally building a barbed fortress around my body. If I could fool everyone else, then maybe I could fool myself too. Lying to myself might just be the hardest lie of all.

  I shoved the door open to the cottage and tossed my keys on the counter. Rage simmered just below the surface as I opened the fridge so hard, the door slammed against the cabinets. If it wasn’t a premium kitchen with fancy granite, it could have dented the countertop. I wished it would have. The satisfaction of destroying something tugged at my self-control, threatening to unravel everything I’d worked so hard for.

  My hockey gear was in the corner, calling my name. That was what I needed. A few hours on the ice with guys that knew the score. I could shove them into the glass as hard as I could and no one cared. That was the game. I used to hate my dad for making me follow in his footsteps, but somewhere over the last year that changed. It provided an outlet for my rage every time I was tempted to bust Trey’s face on the concrete, or ram my fist into my father’s fucking face when he tore me down. And my mother was married to that fucker.

  My sweet mother who cared too much about what everyone else had and not enough about what was really important in life. I would never tell her, but she probably knew he cheated. And she would never leave. He kept her in a lifestyle that paid for her Botox and spa days. That kind of life wasn’t for me. If I ever turned into my father, I’d drive myself into the nearest brick wall.

  Picking up my shit, I grabbed my keys and headed back to the rover. My gaze wandered to Astrid’s house as I passed it, like it did every time I drove by. I could tell myself it didn’t mean anything, but I’d always been real with myself. Not the world, they didn’t want to know the truth, but to myself.

  The drive was short and by the time I laced up my skates, I was ready to fuck shit up.

  Thursdays were open days where practice wasn’t mandatory, but we were still expected to get our laps in. Most of the time I loved it, it calmed me to go through the repetitive motions of skating. It was mindless and effortless. Just me and the burn of my thighs.

  Today, there were a couple of the guys on the ice already. And what do you know. There was enemy number fucking one. Did I want to slam him face first into the glass as many times as I could, or confront him about what he was doing to Astrid?

  It was a no brainer really. I could confront him later. Now I was going to get my shots in without coach.

  “Trey, I need to work on some of my moves. You game? It will be ruthless.” I yelled across the ice as I fastened my helmet. He turned around gracefully, like all the guys that played, he was smooth on the ice.

  Take the bait. He never could resist a little foul play. It would also make him look weak if he refused. Not that it actually would, but in his mind he would be a pussy to back down from a challenge like the one I just threw down.

  “Hell yeah. Give me your best.” He cackled and the hairs on the back of my neck stood up. It wasn’t from the cold, I was used to the temperature in the rink. No, it was from the furious waves of contempt, barreling over me like waves crashing against the shore.

  A nasty smirk curled my lips as I made a show of cracking my neck. “Let’s go, Dickwad.” No build up, no slowly easing into the motions today. Zero to sixty in two seconds flat as I raced straight for him. He grinned and turned away, skating as if his life depended on it.

  But it wouldn’t do him any good. I was the better skater. I was the better player. And it grated on him. I’d often wondered if that was part of the reason he was such a dick. Where we should have been close like brothers due to our living situation, the only part of that relationship we had was rivalry. I didn’t give a rat’s ass about who was better or not, but it was everything to him.

  Right now, I was glad I had the superior skills. I’d had private lessons much longer than he had and I was going to use my strengths to my advantage.

  I caught up to Trey and rammed him so hard I’d be surprised if there wasn’t a Trey sized indent in the glass.

  “Fuck.” He groaned and it slid over my body like the sweetest honey. “What’s wrong with you man?”

  You know what? Fuck it. I’d tell him right here what my problem was, and if he wanted to hash it out, I was damn ready to throw down the gloves.

  “That was a fucked up thing to do, even for you.” I growled, still holding him to the glass.

  “What?” He acted like he had no idea what I was talking about.

  Wasn’t that a fucking lie? The curl of his mouth said he knew exactly what I was so worked up over, and he was proud of it.

  “Astrid. That girl hasn’t done anything to you. And let’s be honest bro, you’re the worst kind of dick so you deserve it. Call off the girls or I’ll make your life very hard.” My breath came in deep pants, but it wasn’t from the skating.

  “Whatever, Rhys. You can’t do jack shit. It’s why you’ve never tried before.” He rolled his eyes and my skin started to boil from the heat of my anger.

  I’d never wanted to pummel someone so bad in my life. No one quite brought out these feelings like Dad or Trey. It must be a Bennet trait.

  “I’ve never cared before. I care this time, so make it go away. Last warning.” I shoved away from him and started to turn away.

  “Oh-ho-ho. She’s spreading it for you? I thought she lumped you in with the rest of us? Must be a pussy of gold for you get twisted like this.” He spun around to face me.

  Red covered my vision and images flashed before my eyes of blood on his face, his jersey, the ice. It was a very appealing picture and if it wasn’t for the fear of consequences, I would have acted on it. But the last thing I needed was to get suspended from the team. That would almost guarantee a loss of interest from the scouts.

  The cold from the ice chilled my skin, but did little to coo
l my temper. I curled my fingers into tight fists and used every bit of willpower to keep them by my sides.

  “By tomorrow morning I want the girls called off.” Without giving him a chance to respond, I turned around and darted off. His cackle echoed behind me and it only increased my hate for him.

  The years he spent with us were years too many. I used to feel sorry for him, forced to move in with us after his dad went to prison and his mom ran off. If I had a penny for every time I tried to understand him, I could walk out and never look back, happily. But no matter what I tried, or how I approached him, Trey did his best to make everyone miserable. Except for my dad. They were cut from the same cloth.

  Over the years, I’d come to accept that Trey was not, and never would be a decent person. It wouldn’t surprise me if he ended up following in his dad’s footsteps.

  I slammed the door to the locker room and started stripping off my gear, oblivious to the people surrounding me. It was always crowded in here, guys in all age groups changing for practice. Hockey was the big sport of Colorado and the rink was always packed. Even figure skating was fairly popular. I learned from a young age that if I didn’t want to get an eyeful of dick all the time, to keep my eyes averted.

  “Yo, Bennet. What was that out there?” Greg, the fullback of the team approached me cautiously. Even though I didn’t spread it around, it was no secret I could barely tolerate Trey on the best of days.

  “Nothing,” I grunted and stuffed my gear in the team branded mesh bag. Proud to be a Grizzly stamped across one side and my dad’s company logo on the other. Yeah… That was something to be proud of, how far my dad’s money went to prove our family name owned everything.

  “You sure? It looked intense. Trey is still fuming, racing insane circles around the rink.” He shrugged, he didn’t care what Trey was doing. He was firmly in the Trey hate camp too. As was most of the team.