Three Divisions: Crescentwood 1

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Three Divisions: Crescentwood 1 Page 17

by R. A. Smyth


  “Beth! That’s all over with now. Let’s at least try to get to know Sophie before we put her through an inquisition.” Alexis chastises her. Beth blushes and mutters an apology.

  After a moment of awkward silence, where Beth and Olivia cast glances at me from under their lashes, hoping I’ll spill the deets on my rivalry with the one-percenters, the girls, realising I’m not going to comment, start talking about whatever gossip is making the rounds this week at CWP. I don’t know most of the people they talk about so I just sit and listen to them chat while I eat my food.

  I had totally spaced out of the conversation when someone taps my shoulder, “Sophie, are you listening?”

  “Yeah, sorry, I, eh – What did you say?”

  “Olivia was asking what guys you’re interested in,” Alexis says, looking annoyed that I wasn’t paying attention.

  “Oh, I’m not interested in anybody.” I quickly reply, shaking my head and ignoring the fact my mind immediately jumped to Barrett, and even more annoyingly, Preston. I definitely have no interest at all in either of those jackoffs.

  The girls all laugh at my response, as though it’s preposterous that I wouldn’t be attracted to anyone here. These girls know no one has paid me a lick of attention, other than the one-percenters, since I arrived.

  “There has to be someone you like, even if it’s just a bit of eye-candy for your vag vault,” Beth proclaims distractedly, feasting her eyes over someone at the one-percenters table.

  Laughing as she realises Beth’s attention is elsewhere, Olivia explains, “Beth here has a teeny tiny fixation on Barrett.”

  “Who wouldn’t! He’s so dreamy,” she mumbles absent-mindedly, her mind clearly in fantasy land.

  “Vag vault?” I enquire, confused.

  “You know, a female spank bank, a vag vault, rub club, flick file, rub reel, bean screen, whatever you want to call it,” Olivia explains, as though it’s obvious. I guess it is, I’ve just never heard it called that.

  Thankfully, before the girls can push me to give them any names, the bell rings, signaling the end of lunch.

  “What class do you have next?” Olivia asks me as we gather our stuff and head towards the door along with the rest of the room.

  “Emm, Psychology.”

  “Oh cool, I’ve that class next too, we can walk together.”

  ◆◆◆

  The week continues on in much the same way. Any classes I have with the girls, one of them comes and sits beside me, and they invite me to eat lunch with them every day. I don’t engage much but they don’t seem to mind, talking amongst themselves while I sit and listen.

  On Friday, Vicki notices me eating my chocolate brownie. I’ve been working my way through the dessert bar each day and I’m back to the one I ate on my first day here. I never go a day without eating one of their desserts. How anyone could pass them up is beyond me, each one has been better than the last. It would be impossible to pick a favourite.

  “You’ve had dessert at lunch every day this week. Don’t you worry about getting fat?” She asks me bluntly.

  I can’t help but give an unladylike snort, causing a look of disgust to flash across her face. It’s so brief I almost wonder if I imagined it. I don’t think I did, though.

  Yeah, I may finally be starting to make friends, but I’m still never going to fit in here. These ladies have probably been taught proper manners from a young age, and the thought of a lady snorting, well it’s just not done.

  “It’s too good to let it go to waste. So many people are starving in the world and we have all this delicious food on offer,” I explain. I can’t exactly tell them that I’m used to living off a tin of spaghetti hoops or ramen noodles for days on end, and, now that I can have my fill, I have issues with leaving anything on my plate.

  I’ve probably been left with an unhealthy relationship with food, but hey, at least I’m not like the girls here, too scared to eat more than a lettuce leaf in case I suddenly gain twenty pounds.

  I’ve noticed all week that Alexis and her friends eat rabbit food for lunch, and even at that they just seem to pick at most of it instead of actually eating it. I’m the only one at the table who eats a proper meal and dessert.

  Maybe it is excessive, but who cares?! I’m skinny enough from a lifetime of living half-starved, and my curves have been filling out nicely since I arrived here so I am definitely not adjusting my eating habits.

  The girls clearly don’t understand what I am trying to say though. They have never lived in a world where they had to ration their food or make sacrifices between eating or keeping warm. I don’t expect them to get it.

  “Well, you’ll only have yourself to blame if you get fat and no guy wants to be seen with you,” Vicki replies snidely. She’s a bit of a bitch, that one, definitely not afraid to blurt out whatever is on her mind. I just shrug at her comment. It’s not like guys are queueing up right now to ask me out anyway. As long as I’m happy with myself, that’s all that matters.

  “Vicki, don’t be a bitch!” Alexis interjects. “She can eat whatever she wants.” Vicki and Alexis stare at each other for another moment, engaged in some sort of mental communication using just their eyes, before Vicki sighs and looks away.

  “Fine. Sorry, Sophie. I can be a bitch when my period is about to come. Just ignore me.”

  “It’s fine, don’t worry about it.”

  “So, girls, what’s the plan for this weekend?” Olivia cuts in, steering the conversation into safer territory. “I hear there’s a party at Meaghan’s house, are we in?”

  Her question is followed by a chorus of ‘hell yeahs’ by the other girls at the table. Great. I guess we are going to a one-percenters party.

  My day is made even better by finding yet another note stuffed into my backpack when I get home from school. God knows when someone managed to sneak it in there. I don’t remember seeing it when I was lifting out my books for my last class, but it’s possible I missed it.

  My hands are trembling as I open the note. I had honestly hoped whoever this jerk was that they had gotten bored and moved on. It’s been ages since I got my last one.

  At one point I wondered if it was Barrett or Preston leaving them for me, trying to scare me off. I have to say, this method is far more effective than their childish pranks, but they have backed off ever since the party. I’m pretty sure Barrett told Preston what he witnessed outside my father’s office and they have decided I’m not a threat. They have to realise the futility of using me to get to my father.

  Bracing myself for the sickening words I am about to read, I open the note.

  Our time is coming. Fear only heightens the sexual act. I can’t wait to taste the terror in your blood while I come inside of you.

  Shoving the note into the bottom of my desk door, I resolve to forget all about it.

  If a tree falls in a forest and no one is around to hear it, does it make a sound?

  If I pretend I never received any notes and no one else knows about them, are the notes even real?

  Let me live in denial for a little while longer at least.

  Chapter 20

  It’s Saturday night and I’m staring aimlessly at all the clothes in my closet, trying to work out what the hell one wears to a one-percenters party.

  Alexis said they would pick me up at nine, which is in half an hour, so I really need to get a move on. I have outfits for every occasion in this closet but finding the perfect one for tonight is proving challenging. I don’t want to appear too slutty, but I don’t want to look like a Mormon either.

  Rifling through the racks I find a dark blue playsuit with a halter neck top that dips down to the top of my ass at the back. I pair it with matching low heels that make my legs look long and shapely, but aren’t likely to result in me breaking an ankle tonight.

  I quickly put on some foundation, eyeliner, mascara, and a bold reddy-purple lipstick, and run a brush through my hair, letting it hang down around my shoulders in loose, natural waves. Wi
th one final look in the mirror, I’m happy with what I see. I may not look like a perfect Barbie doll, but I look like my best self.

  I don’t want to consume alcohol on an empty stomach, so I stop by the kitchen while I wait for my lift to arrive. Thomas is in there pottering about and chatting to Oliver, who is sitting at the bar eating his dinner. They both stop and look in my direction when I enter.

  “You look lovely this evening, Miss Sophie. Are you headed out for the evening?” Thomas enquires.

  “Just off to a party that a girl from school is having. I’m getting a lift there and back, so I don’t need a ride, Oliver.”

  Oliver just nods at me and continues eating his dinner.

  “It’s so good to see you finally settling in and making friends,” Thomas says, smiling warmly at me. Not wanting to correct him, I just nod and smile back.

  I quickly grab a banana, letting them get back to their conversation. “Well, I’d better go wait in the hall. Don’t wait up for me, Thomas.” I say as I exit the kitchen, making my way towards the front door.

  I’m walking across the foyer when my father calls out to me. “Where are you going?” he demands, standing in the shadow of the hallway down to his office. Since I thought I was alone, his voice makes me jump. Turning to face him, there’s a smug grin on his face. The shitbag is fucking pleased at having caught me off guard. Asshole. I should have known I wouldn’t be able to escape without running into him. After all, I haven’t seen him since the party last week.

  “There’s a party at Meaghan Williamson’s house tonight, I was going to go. Friends from school are giving me a ride.”

  “No alcohol or drugs. I don’t want to hear you have embarrassed me or gotten into trouble tonight.” Robert demands bruskly, before turning and stalking back down the corridor to his office. I seriously need to work out what the hell my father is up to, but not tonight. Tonight, I have a party to attend.

  ◆◆◆

  Pulling up to Meaghan’s mansion, I can see it is even larger than mine, which is saying something considering the Montgomery mansion could comfortably house three football teams. including their coaches, trainers, agents, and administration staff, and still have space to spare.

  There are cars parked everywhere and music is blasting so loud the ground is vibrating with the thump of the bass. I guess it's just as well she doesn’t have any close neighbours.

  There are people ahead of us, climbing up the steps to the front door, heading into the house, while others congregate in groups outside, chatting to and greeting each other and drinking from plastic cups.

  The girls and I head up the front steps and into the mansion.

  “Let’s grab drinks,” Beth declares as they saunter towards the back of the house where, I’m assuming, the kitchen is.

  The place is packed. People are everywhere, pumping and grinding to the music, and we have to push our way through the crowd.

  Thankfully, the kitchen isn’t as busy and the music doesn’t seem so loud in here. I make myself a vodka and coke, ensuring I lift an unopened bottle of vodka and a sealed can of coke. I do not trust anyone at this party to not drug me. By the time we circle back to the kitchen later, all of the bottles will have been opened, so this will be my only drink of the night. With that in mind, I pour a double shot of vodka.

  “Let’s do the rounds and see who’s here. Then we can dance!” Alexis shouts excitedly over the music, full of energy and ready to let loose.

  After receiving nods of agreement from the other girls, she turns on her heel and heads back towards the front of the house. We do a loop around the five - yes FIVE - sitting rooms, all of which are crammed full of people dancing, lounging on the chairs, chatting, and making out. I’m pretty sure I even see a few couples flat out having sex against the furniture and walls as we walk past. Some people have no self-respect, or common decency - who wants to see that shit?!

  One of the sitting rooms is taken up by the one-percenters and their entourage. Preston and Barrett are sitting side by side on a sofa, each with a fancy looking bottle of bourbon. They are deep in conversation, ignoring everyone else in the room, even while Meaghan tries to get Preston’s attention by stroking her hand over the front of his shirt and down over his crotch.

  Quickly looking away, I notice Kurt sitting on another sofa with his head tilted back, staring at the roof while a girl sucks his cock - classy stuff.

  Cece and Lizzie are dancing drunkenly in the corner of the room with two guys who share a smirk, knowing they are getting lucky tonight.

  Ducking my head, I hurry through the room, but not before Preston turns to look in my direction, as if he could feel my presence. He follows my path through the crowd, glaring at me the whole time, until I’m out of his line of sight and I finally feel like I can breathe again.

  We soon circle back to the main living room that has the DJ and a makeshift dance floor set up. Alexis tells us to down our drinks and drags us onto the dance floor. I’m really not a dancer and I haven’t had nearly enough alcohol to lose myself in the music, but the girls don’t seem to notice or care, and soon we are all dancing and laughing along to the hip hop songs playing.

  After a few dances, guys start to emerge out of the crowd and dance with the other girls, and soon it's just me dancing by myself. I decide, instead, to take a break and get some fresh air, but as I make my way towards the edge of the dance floor, hands go around my waist, pulling me back into the crowd. Turning around to tell whoever is manhandling me to get lost, I look up into a handsome face that I vaguely recognise from school.

  Obviously seeing the pissed-off look on my face, the guy quickly retracts his hands and holds them up in surrender.

  “Sorry. I was just coming over to see if you wanted to dance when you made a break for the exit. I wanted to catch you before I lost you in the crowd,” he explains sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck.

  “Oh,” I respond stupidly not knowing what else to say.

  “Uh, so do you wanna dance?” He asks awkwardly.

  I’ve never been asked to dance before, and the guy is cute. He doesn’t make my heart race or make me clench my thighs like Barrett or Preston, but equally, he doesn’t seem like a douche, so that’s a win for him.

  “Yeah, I’d love to,” I respond with a reassuring smile, figuring there’s no harm. Things haven’t been easy for me recently, I definitely deserve to relax and have a little fun.

  He gives me a boy-next door smile showing his perfectly straight white teeth and takes hold of my hand, drawing me closer to him. He doesn’t let any other part of us touch as we start to dance together, but as one song bleeds into another he gets closer and closer until our bodies are sliding up against each other and his hands roam over my hips and side and along my back. His thigh slips between mine until I’m basically grinding on him. I still don’t feel that spark, but I can definitely feel the adrenaline and music flowing through me, egging me on.

  He leans down to kiss the side of my neck and my head tilts back, giving him more room. My eyes are closed but I suddenly get the feeling that I’m being watched. Opening my eyes, they connect immediately with Barrett, across the room, who is leaning casually against the wall with a plastic cup in his hands and staring intently at me. No, not just at me, at what I’m doing with the stranger wrapped around me. His jaw is clenched tight and he looks pissed off, but I’m not sure what he’s annoyed about. His eyes are burning bright as they take me in, devouring me.

  I suddenly feel claustrophobic and overwhelmed, with all the sweaty bodies around me and the pounding music thumping through me, and I just need to get out of here. Pushing the guy off me, I mutter an apology and some excuse about needing fresh air, making a dash for the closest exit. I keep my head down as I head back towards the kitchen and out the door, into the cool October night.

  Thankfully, no one else seems to be out here, and I make my way around the side of the house, where there is a deck overlooking the manicured gardens. With no lights
shining from this side of the house, I can see the millions of stars in the sky above me. It's truly beautiful out here.

  Leaning against the railing on the deck, I take a few deep, steadying breaths and wonder if I could get away with sitting out here the rest of the night. It’s quiet and peaceful, no strangers to lose myself in. No Barrett staring at me with heat and fire and lust in his eyes. No Preston glaring at me like he wants the doorway to hell to open up and swallow me whole.

  Unfortunately, I only get a few minutes of peace to myself before I hear the kitchen door open and close, footsteps heading my way. I’m not surprised when Barrett rounds the corner, his features lit up by the moon hanging overhead.

  “What are you doing here?” He asks, but not as though he’s asking how I have the audacity to attend a one-percenter party. More like, he’s concerned for me. That can’t be right though, why would Barrett have any concern for me?

  “It’s a party. I was invited.” I reply bluntly. I don’t owe him any explanation for my actions.

  Stepping closer to me so we are toe to toe, our chests scraping against each other when we breathe in, his eyes are boring into me when he asks, “What were you doing with Neill?”

  “Neill?” I query, assuming he must be talking about the guy I was dancing with.

  “The guy you were just rubbing yourself all over like a dog in heat,” he snaps out, his control slipping, showing me how frustrated he is.

  I just shrug. It's none of his business what I was doing with Neill or any other guy. If he didn’t want to see it then he shouldn’t have watched.

  Moving in even closer, Barrett places his hands on the railing, on either side of my hips, and leans his head in so his lips graze over the base of my neck. I feel him take a deep breath as though he is breathing me in. My own breaths are shallow and I’m surrounded by his sea air scent.

  “You looked hot as fuck out there, grinding on him,” he growls out, looking at me with fuck-me eyes. “I wanted to snap his scrawny little neck for touching you like that…For touching you how I want to touch you.”

 

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