Low: A Dark High School Bully Romance (Suffolk Academy Book 1)

by Lilah Walker

  It takes about five minutes for the police to arrive. As soon as the man hears the sound of their sirens, he stands up. He doesn’t leave, though. He just picks up the bag and clutches it to his chest.

  Two police cars park on the curb just off the lawn.

  As two police officers get closer, the man looks agitated, glancing around him as if he might run. “Calm down, mister!” one of the officers shouts when the strange man swings his bag towards the approaching officers.

  The officers step back, too, apparently hoping he’ll calm down. I still haven’t heard him say anything to them, but the moment they try to approach, he becomes aggressive.

  It seems like there’s a stalemate between him and the two officers. Grandma Judith says we should go back inside, but I want to stay outside and watch. When the man waves his arms, we retreat to the porch, but view the scene from the doorway.

  The situation persists for about five more minutes, until a car suddenly drives up close beside the police cars. It is Lowell’s red Ferrari.

  What the hell is he doing at my house this early in the morning?

  “Hey, officers. Let me handle him please, will you?” he asks loudly as he jumps out of his car.

  “Are you sure about this?” a police officer asks.

  “Just let me talk to him for a few minutes. I’ve seen him around, okay?”

  The police officers give in and Lowell takes over the crazy situation. We all watch in amazement as Lowell jogs over to the apparently homeless man. He holds both his hands out ahead of him, signaling he’s there to talk. By the time Lowell is within arm’s reach, the man has transformed into a soul who’s as calm as anyone I’ve ever seen.

  Lowell takes his hands gently, and they talk for a few minutes more. The cops look bored now, and it seems like they’re there to chaperone the whole thing as much as anything. Grandma and I are unable to hear what Lowell and the guy talk about, but the man looks more sad than angry by the time they finish. As if he’s now under Lowell’s spell, the ragged man walks towards the police of his own free will. The police officers gently place the man in the back of their patrol car, and then they wave to us in the doorway, get in the car, and drive away.

  As soon as the police car leaves, my grandma rushes down the steps. She runs out to hug Lowell tightly for a few seconds. I stroll out the door more hesitantly, but it’s not like I can go back inside and ignore him showing up here.

  I get to them just as my grandma is gushing, “Thank you very much. You’re such a great hero.”

  Lowell smiles, and I can see how he charms the teachers. “Don’t mention it, ma’am. I’m glad I could help.”

  “What’s your name, young man?”

  “My name is Lowell, ma’am. Lowell Bartlett. I’m friends with Aleta.”

  “Bartlett?” Grandma echoes, placing her hand under her chin. “Oh, yes, I’ve heard of your family.”

  “I hope only good things,” he says with a chuckle.

  What a fake laugh. God, but I can’t stand this jerk.

  “Yes, definitely, so nice to meet you, Lowell Bartlett. I’m Mrs. Judith Clark.”

  “I’m sorry we have to meet under these circumstances, but I’m so happy to meet you, Mrs. Clark..” He flashes me a million-dollar smile. “I’m working on a class project together with your granddaughter.”

  It’s a genuine surprise to hear him talk to my grandma so politely, and I have to blink twice to be sure he’s the same brute I know from S.A. Then again, con men are charmers, too. He certainly impresses Grandma Judith; it’s not so easy to impress me. I have a lot of questions for this guy, and I don’t trust one bone in his chiseled body.

  Yes, he did an amazing job, but I want to know why he thinks he can show up at my house unannounced—and this fucking early? I know he said he would, but I never expected him to actually come over uninvited like this.

  “How did you know this crazy man was here?” I ask, placing my hands on my hips. “What did you threaten to do to him?”

  Grandma gives me a scolding look, but Lowell only chuckles. “Let’s just say I was lucky enough to be passing by your house and could handle the situation. The guy wasn’t unfamiliar to me, we’ll say.”

  I have more questions to ask this stalker, but my grandma speaks before I can drill him any further. “We would like to show you our appreciation, Lowell. How about you join us for breakfast this morning?”

  My jaw drops. Did my grandma really just invite this sneaky bastard into our house? For breakfast?

  I send Lowell an icy glare. I don’t want him in my house. In fact, I want nothing to do with him outside of our class project.

  “I’ll be glad to come for breakfast, ma’am.” He says to her first, and then he smiles over at me as he gives his response. I know he’s attempting to torture me even further. “I was actually coming over to work with Aleta on our school project, but we can eat first.”

  I hang my head low, as there’s clearly nothing I can do to stop this. My grandma has just invited my bully into our house. I want to tell her that he’s a con artist and that she should withdraw the invitation, but I just don’t know how.

  Please, Grandma, you don’t know this ‘hero’ like I do.

  Suddenly, Lowell’s cell phone beeps and he takes it out to look at it. “Oh, no, my dad needs me to handle some errands for him. I apologize, but I will have to pass on your breakfast invitation, Mrs. Clark.”

  “That’s fine, Lowell! But here, let’s exchange phone numbers so I can invite you over another time.”

  Lowell grins. “Certainly, Mrs. Clark, I’ll be glad to,” he says as they exchange phones to key in their numbers.

  “Also, I feel better being able to contact Aleta’s friends in case of an emergency, you know,” she says, receiving her cell phone back and looking down at his contact information with pride.

  “No problem, Mrs. Clark. I’m always happy to help.”

  I struggle to speak, but instead release a shaky laugh, relieved as I am to have heard him cancel. In another moment, Grandma Judith is bidding him goodbye and we’re turning back towards the house.

  Lowell’s cell phone saved my day, but if he was willing to show up here, I know that wasn’t nearly the end of things between us.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  “W

  hat a time we’re having, dear,” says my grandmother. She’s a woman of average height and build, with salt and pepper mid-length hair and expressive facial features. If I tell everything I know about Lowell Bartlett, her hair will turn white with shock.

  I don’t think someone with Lowell’s capacity for cruelty is even imaginable to her, she’s so sweet, and I’ve come to love that about her. It’s refreshing to me that she never hides how she’s feeling—it always shows up in her face. This is a stark contrast to my mother, who learned how to mask all of her emotions as a basic defense mechanism for dealing with less than ideal customers at times.

  But comparing Grandma Judith to Mom only makes the idea of talking to her about Lowell seem all the more impossible. It’s been on my mind all day, and now we’re sitting across the table from each other in the kitchen as we share a late-night dinner.

  “Did Marilyn get Grandpa calmed down for the night?”

  “Yes, she finally got him to lie down in your mother’s bed. She’s such a patient caregiver, and I’m so thankful we have an extra room for him to spread out to. It’s hard enough for me to deal with him forgetting his surroundings, but to accept his insistence on sleeping in an unfamiliar room...it’s a lot to deal with. He is happy about having you here to help us, though. You showing up here was a wonderful gift, Aleta, difficult as it must be for you to be apart from your mother. My beautiful and smart granddaughter.” She reaches across the table to pat my hand.

  I give her a half-smile. “Grandma, I don’t feel beautiful or smart.”

  “Who feels that way all of the time, honey?” asks Grandma. “Especially as a teenager! However, anybody you come in contact with wil
l see it and know it’s true.”

  “Not everybody, Grandma. Suffolk is great,” I tell her, deciding to give her a hint of what I’m dealing with at school, “but some of the students can be pretty mean—to me, I mean. They love tearing me down. Some of them pretend to be your friend, but then the friendship dissolves into thin air.”

  Grandma frowns, but doesn’t look surprised. “Teenagers can be cruel, Aleta. You have to try not to let them get to you. You and Katelyn are pretty good friends, right?”

  “That’s true.” I move the food around on my plate. “She’s probably my one genuine friend.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with having one true friend, but maybe that handsome young man will be another good friend for you.”

  I choke back a laugh. “No, Grandma, I’ll pass on him.”

  “He’s a handsome fellow, dear. The police officer called me back and told me nothing but good things about him. They were grateful for his help, which made their jobs easier than they could have been.”

  I roll my eyes and push back my chair from the table. “I’m done, Grandma. Thanks for dinner.”

  “Wait, dear, let me tell you about the crazy man who was sitting on our curb. The police office gave me more information, and I think it’s only fair I share it.”

  I sit back down and lean forward curiously. “What did they tell you about him?”

  “The officer believes he’s Alan York, the rich tech guy that went missing a few months ago. He left his keys, clothes, cars…everything behind in his house.”

  “That’s strange. What’s he trying to do, start his life over with nothing?”

  Grandma shrugs. “Nobody knows. The police officer said they have a report about a cab driver picking up a guy around 7 AM this morning. He confused the driver about which street he wanted to go to and appeared frazzled. All he could remember was that it was some street near Wilkins Lane, but he didn’t know which one.”

  “They think it was the crazy man?”

  “Well, the driver tried to make a joke about why a guy like him didn’t look it up on his phone first. The guy told him a lot was going on and that he’d just find it on his own, like in the old days. Then the driver received a request from a friend to pick him up since he was close by, and the man said he’d get out there—that he’d find where he was going on his own instead of wasting the driver’s time.

  “He drove to the location of his friend, who jumped in as the guy in the back leaped out. This friend couldn’t believe he had the once handsome tech genius in his car; she’d seen him on television before. Anyhow, the driver felt obligated to tell the police since this disheveled man was walking around the area. The cops felt like they should share it with me since we called it in. I guess they thought knowing who he is might make us feel better about him being in the neighborhood and not being such a threat, though they said we should keep an eye out. Now, they’re not sure of his identity, mind you—they didn’t have reason to hold him since he wasn’t drunk, and they only got the driver’s call after they’d let him go. The resemblance was enough that they’re pretty sure, however.”

  I try to take it all in, “I hope he doesn’t come back.”

  “I can’t help but feel sad for the man if it’s indeed Alan York.”

  “Why would Alan York run away from his rich life?”

  “Some people are so rich they can buy whatever they want in this life, but not enough to get rid of the demons they live with behind closed doors, honey.”

  “I’m sure if he was very successful, there were some enemies around to drive him bonkers,” I say, backing my chair away from the table. “Many people have them.”

  “So true, honey. Look at the times we live in. Everybody wants what they want when they want it, and they’ll run over others to get it. They either refuse to work for it or haven’t the patience to wait.”

  She shakes her head, and I’m about to say goodnight when another thought seems to strike her.

  “Speaking of extremely rich people, Aleta, do you think Lowell’s father, Mr. Bartlett, would like to support my church fundraiser?” she asks.

  I raise an eyebrow. “How do you know they’re extremely rich, Grandma?”

  “Everyone in the state knows it, dear. And didn’t you see his car?”

  Of course, she was impressed. Great. “How could I not?”

  She laughs and sits up in her chair. “I’m going to call Lowell and tell him all about my church fundraiser. I’ll invite his father to support us, and maybe you and Lowell can pay him a little visit to give him more information. What do you think?”

  I think you’ve lost your mind, Grandma.

  “I don’t know, Grandma. Let me think about it,” I say, gathering our plates to take them into the kitchen. “But it’s been a long Saturday and I have homework, so….”

  “Alright, Aleta. But I don’t like how little you’re eating. Make sure you eat a good breakfast tomorrow morning to make up for tonight,” she says, watching me walk towards the kitchen. “We can’t have you coming home looking as red as a beet and about to pass out again. I want you fueled up and ready to take on your classes with a charged-up brain, come Monday. You know I’m always praying for you to do your very best at S.A., dear.”

  “Thank you, Grandma.” I hug and kiss her before returning to the kitchen to load the dishwasher. “Keep praying for me and Mom, both.”

  “Always, dear.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  LOWELL

  A slice of this girl is heaven to me. When I saw her on the first day of school, I knew I had to get my hands on her.

  I love her peach bottom, not to mention her pink, fleshy mounds and cinched-in waist.

  I kept my eyes on her working her way around the tables in the café. Cleaning up after these pigs. She cared so much about doing her servant’s work right, she didn’t even take the time to eat with that Giraffe friend of hers. That’ll change soon enough.

  With me, she can have a better set of friends. She’ll learn who to give her time to and who to ignore.

  I can do so much for Aleta if she follows along with the plan. And it helps that she’s so desperate to have her mother back in her life.

  I love a desperate bitch.

  We’ll take another step today by visiting my dad’s office. I can’t stand the motherfucker, but he’ll come in handy now. He thinks he’s such a hot shot because he knows how to make money make more money. I’m looking forward to this visit, though. I think Aleta and I will have a little fun in his office…and I hope his cameras catch it all.

  Aleta’s beside me now, sitting here in his waiting area and waiting for me to take the lead, as if she’s already my proper slut, waiting for my commands. She tenses up when Dad’s assistant pokes her head into his door, telling him me and my ‘girlfriend’ are here to speak with him.

  She motions us inside a minute later, and I pull Aleta up with me. “Hello, Dad,” I greet him, leading the way into his office with Aleta not far behind. “We know you’re a busy man and don’t want to waste your time, so I promise we won’t take up much of your precious time.”

  Dad grins—ever the fake charmer for a pretty girl. “I’m happy to meet with the both of you. Lowell and?” he prompts, standing up and extending his hand over the desk to shake Aleta’s hand.

  “Aleta,” I introduce her, and she smiles as she shakes his hand.

  He motions for us to sit down in the two high-backed leather chairs in front of his desk. They match the ones in my study room, and I wonder if Aleta’s thinking about when I last had her there. “Please have a seat.”

  “Thank you,” we say in unison. Maybe we do think alike.

  “I haven’t heard about you having a new girlfriend, Lowell. Will she be by your side when you take over the company?” Dad asks as he sits back down in his chair.

  What kind of fucking stupid question is that? It’s none of your business, moron, but you’ll pay for that one.

  I smirk, looking sideways at
her and hiding my annoyance with him. I’ll just use it to get to her. “She is quite the looker, don’t you think, Dad?”

  “Oh yes, she is a beauty.”

  “I better keep her away from my buddies, right?” I joke. Aleta will hear the implied threat—not that I mean it—while my dad will just take it as a stupid joke.

  I can see Aleta side-eyeing me, but she’s blushing with the compliments—awkwardness only making her hotter. I know she wants to speak, but I told her to keep her fucking mouth shut until I give her the signal.

  “That’s right, son. Is there anything I can offer to the both of you? Would you like a drink from my bar?”

  Aleta tenses up beside me, a shocked expression on her face. Dad ignores it because he doesn’t care what I do as long as I don’t embarrass him.

  “We appreciate it, Dad, but I don’t want to corrupt her,” I state with a chuckle, crossing my arms in front of me. “I can’t take her back to her grandmother smelling like alcohol.”

  “Well, what can I do for the both of you today?”

  I glance over to Aleta, nodding for her to go ahead, and like a good little girl, she takes her cue.

  “My grandmother is leading a fundraiser for her church, Mr. Bartlett. She’s heard about your charitable contributions around the world and would love to know if you’d like to contribute to a local church to help needy students right here in Florida.”

  He smiles, ready to offer up that checkbook just like always. “Sounds great, so how can I help?”

  Aleta looks at me for permission to continue. Damn, she’s easy to control. I nod my head in approval.

  “The church is having a fundraiser to raise money for scholarships for students to go to college in the upcoming school year. My grandmother is helping to put together this fundraiser and wants to bring in some successful citizens to talk to the youth as a motivation segment of the scholarship program. You know, something like a ‘How I Created My Success’ kind of speech.”