Here Lives a Corpse: A Dark Bully Academy Romance (Here Lies Book 1)

by C. L. Matthews

  “I’d never let a vampire with pale as fuck skin touch me. Get some sunlight, Bloodsucker. You’re starting to show your corpse.”

  “Fuck off, Lux.” It comes off too heated, showing my cards when he shouldn’t have control over the deck at all.

  A smirk tilts at his lips like he knows he’s won something, but he’ll never win. Not again.

  “It’s Lennox to you.” He sits back in his chair, crossing his arms like he’s macho. It’s a front for a boy with daddy issues, even if he’ll never admit it.

  “Okay, Lux. I’ll take note.”

  He grunts before going back to his work.

  Mr. Bautista announces our new assignment, telling us to pick a serial killer. He explains the requirements—that we’re to research them and write a five-page theory on why they did what they did and whether or not they’re a psychopath or a sociopath. Or both.

  As he excuses us to start, Lux’s hand raises, but when the teacher doesn’t notice, he whistles.

  “Yes, Mr. DeLeon?”

  I don’t turn to look at him, even if he’s only a chair behind me. He’s not worth the wasted energy.

  “Can we pick any serial killer?”

  “Is that not what I just explained?” Our teacher drones.

  “So, I can write a piece on Vampire over here?” he asks, ignoring the fact that the teacher is giving him a death glare.

  “Mr. DeLeon, don’t waste my time on—”

  “We all know she killed her brother and probably every animal in the forest. Might as well just prove it now.”

  I fist my palms so tightly that my gel nails break skin. That doesn’t stop me from digging more and more as my skin prickles with embarrassment.

  “Mr. DeLeon!” Bautista yells, his face reddening, the vein on his forehead making an appearance as well.

  “I’m just saying—as someone who has seen what she can do, I think she’d be a great case study.” His voice is one of consideration.

  The fact that he brought up my brother so callously has me wanting to prove a theory. I’ll be a murderer if that’s what he wants. Bringing up Cass when we both know he was involved in the cover-up makes me sick.

  Instead of sticking around to let him beat on me more, I raise from my desk, collect my shit, and race out of there.

  Mr. Bautista calls after me, but I don’t stop, not even after I leave the room.

  Lennox can bully me all he wants, but he better learn to leave Cass out of it. I told myself I would keep my distance, and I even left Government to avoid them all. Even if leaving Ten practically sawed out my organs, it had to be done. They refused to admit their involvement, and I’m not playing their little game anymore.

  “Colt!”

  I don’t stop or turn to see who it is. The stranger’s voice, whoever it is, sends a familiar thrill through me. There aren’t many guys who do that. Actually, I can count on one hand how many have the capability, but whoever this is, he isn’t one of them.

  “Please stop running!” The voice is insistent, almost desperate in a way.

  “Not running. Just not stopping,” I grunt in reply, trying to not be rude as I make my way out of the school and toward Ivory Tower.

  A hand clamps onto my shoulder, making me squeak. I turn toward him, ready to berate him, but my heart pounds as my gaze connects with the bluest eyes I’ve ever had the pleasure of seeing. They’re so dark, almost black, but as the light shines on them, I can see they’re a deep navy. My mouth hangs open as I try to form words. I’m not one for geeking out on a guy. I’ve made that mistake before, but this guy... his eyes... omigod.

  His hand touches my chin poignantly, forcing it closed. “Like what you see?” he teases, his eyes hone in on my lips and I subconsciously lick them.

  He’s so damn handsome. His hair, like his eyes, is dark, but the lights overhead show the reddish-brown tones. He’s sporting the regular uniform without the blazer. The arms are cuffed at the elbow, and his tattoos shock me.

  He has to be a student. He appears young. Like me, his arms are swathed in detailed black ink. It’s intense, like his penetrating gaze.

  “H-How do you know my name?” I ask, hating that a bad feeling bubbles in my stomach. Not snakes, no. Spiders. Venomous, disgusting, and squirmy in the worst way. I’ve never seen this kid before, and yet he already knows me?

  Red flag, Colt. Red fucking flag.

  “I-I...” he stumbles. I’m not sure if it’s because he’s a terrible liar being caught, or such a good actor that he’s able to seem stuttery. “We have three classes together. I’ve watched you.”

  That’s not creepy, admitting to watching someone.

  Joe Goldberg, is that you?

  He runs a hand through that dark hair of his, making me lose focus once more. Before Cass died, I was one-thousand percent boy crazy. It’s what got me into trouble last year with not one but four guys.

  “Oh, well. Hi,” I respond lamely. I’m not about to jump this dude’s bones over him noticing me. It’s hard not to notice me. I have toxic sludge green hair and black raccoon eyes.

  “I’m Jordan Winthrop, but everyone calls me Walker.”

  “I’m—”

  “I know,” he interrupts with a boyish smile, revealing a dimple. “I just wanted to see if you were okay. Lux isn’t exactly nice.”

  That icky feeling comes back at Lux’s name.

  “How do you know?” The question comes out without pause. I don’t trust anyone, least of all someone who knows Lux.

  “I’m the new enforcer for Student Govern—”

  “I’ve gotta go,” I rasp.

  He was listed on the bulletin board earlier today. Now I have a face to connect with the name I know to avoid. Good. I will not get involved with them. Never again.

  He licks his bottom lip, revealing a tongue piercing that has a shiver running through me.

  Hurrying, I turn away and head for my room.

  When I finally get there, I notice a note on my board. All doors have one. It’s for messages, notes, or even numbers from losers who want in your pants. My eyes connect with several words that have my blood running cold.

  Go home. No need to lose the last Hudson child.

  Who wrote it?

  Why did they?

  Bet it was one of those assholes in Student Government.

  The words stare back at me as I gnaw on my lip relentlessly. Instead of erasing it, I take a picture with my cell and go inside my dorm.

  How the hell did I think this year would be easy?

  Five

  As soon as I enter my room, I notice him immediately.

  It’s been four months since I truly spoke to him last. He took something from me, something I can never get back. Not that I would want it back anyway. When he didn’t show up to Cassidy’s funeral, it solidified our separation, making it permanent.

  “Ten,” I whisper, unable to believe my eyes. How did he get in here?

  His metal eyes pierce me like the silver they reflect. His facial expression isn’t readable. It’s almost... nothing. Not here nor there. It just is.

  “Kid,” he responds, his gravelly voice hitting me where it hurts most, between the ribs, a little to the left, right where it beats hardest.

  To many, I’m just Cassidy’s kid sister, even with less than a year separating our age. Kid. That’s what he calls me, even when we grew up together. It’s not blasé either. It’s how I know he still cares. But I don’t want him to care. I want him to hate me as I’ve forced myself to hate him. He was there that night. With them. He’s one of them.

  "This is Tennison," Cassidy explains.

  This boy he's showing me lives nearby. I've seen them play a lot, but I'm not allowed to hang out with them. His friend Tennison’s hair is a brown color, like wet dirt, muddy and dark, but it’s longer, and messy, like boys always are.

  "I'm Colton." I offer my hand. Since I turned ten, I’ve been sneaking around more, playing football with boys.

  Tennison stare
s at me, his shiny eyes meeting mine. They're so pretty, like the spoons Moms has just cleaned or even the shiny earrings she wears when they go to fancy dinners. They're pretty, and I can't stop staring.

  "Nice to meet you, Kid."

  "I'm not a kid," I argue, pouting.

  He smiles boyishly, his mouth curving upward. "You look like a kid to me."

  I shake myself of the memory, glancing at the boy who stole a vital part of me. He’s such a sight right now. His appearance is dark and enticing and all him. It’s a replication of his soul. Moody. Disturbed. Pained.

  My heart hammers at how much he still affects me. He has a new piercing on his eyebrow, one I didn’t notice in the mess hall. It’s a little bar, and the inane desire inside me to lick it zings at my taste buds. To flick my tongue and taste the bitterness of the metal would be unnerving in the best way, just like when I used to with his spider bite piercings.

  “Stop looking at me like you want to fuck, Greenie. We both know there’s not much to stop me,” he nearly growls as I lick my own piercings. Metal, the friend I never knew I needed. A distraction in my time of need.

  My mind travels to what he just called me. “Greenie? What am I, a leprechaun?”

  “Your hair is green. Seemed fitting. Plus, you’re short. Leprechaun isn’t far off,” he replies with a shrug, sounding bored.

  I hate that about him. There’s never anything important enough—sans sticking his dick into chicks—to bring him to life anymore.

  And he did that, dipped his stick into chicks. It’s one thing I could never pretend to not be jealous about. Not even now, thinking of how many broads he probably bagged this summer. We were never exclusive, just two people who liked finding pleasure in each other, even if all I wanted and tried for was more. It didn’t help that there were three others vying for my attention, and I was sharing it with them, too.

  “Why are you here, Ten?” I hate how my voice lowers, sounding small and insecure. I left him. I walked away. Why does it feel like he’s the one who left me? They all abandoned ship, but it was me who made the choice to cut all ties.

  He steps closer to me. I shut the door, trying to back away from his close proximity, but his fingers pinch the green locks of my hair. He caresses the strands almost reverently, like he’s shocked that I’m no longer blonde.

  “I miss you,” he drawls, making heat pool in my stomach. Whether his words are in reference to my hair or my body, his voice simmers in me regardless of the source.

  “Don't,” I whimper, feeling my confidence to stay away caving.

  “Don’t what?” he rumbles, reaching for the back of my neck, pulling me to his lips. “This?”

  His lips connect with mine as the word leaves his mouth. His tongue seeks entrance, tracing the metal of my piercings. A moan escapes my lips and I open up for him. He takes advantage, swiping his tongue against my teeth. I bite his lip, dragging my teeth against the softest flesh.

  He holds my throat, demanding my every noise, warranting each one, too. His jeans are tented with his very large appendage, one I’ve fucked, touched, and tasted once upon a time. We were always tumultuous. Every single time, we burned bright, hot and heavy.

  My brother’s bloodied body flashes in my mind, reminding me why I hate Ten and why I left. Pain belies every inch of me as my hand connects with his chest and pushes him back. Tears well, and I would do anything to choke back the emotion. He can’t win.

  “Leave.” It’s barely a muster.

  “Don’t do this, Kid. You push everyone away.”

  It’s a valid argument, but it’s worthless to me nonetheless.

  Bracing myself, I make sure my mind is as solidified as my body.

  “I won’t stop, Ten. Not until I’m far the fuck away from here and all of you,” I hiss out harshly.

  Sadness pools out of my eyes. I’ll really look like a trash panda soon, a wet one from the sewer, black and white, messy from helplessness.

  Ten needs to leave, and I need to be stronger in the future. This can’t be a repeat situation with us.

  “Just remember you chose this,” he bites back, sidestepping me to leave.

  The anger on his face as he walks out my door forces me to my knees all while sobs rack my frame. He’s not wrong, but I can’t just forgive them for lying and covering up Cassidy’s accident. They can say all they want that he fell off the cabin and hit his head on a boulder, but I know it’s not true.

  I don’t know why they lied.

  Why I didn’t call them out on it.

  How they didn’t come to his funeral.

  Cass wasn’t drunk at the party. He was my designated watcher, the person to make sure nothing happened to me while under the influence. My being too tanked caused them to blame me for imagining things, but I saw Cass. His body had been beaten to shit. Drunk or not, I know what I saw.

  I don’t stop sobbing until I pass out, and Cass lying dead on the grass invades my every dream.

  I skip classes the next two days, needing to decompress and sob it all out.

  Abandoning Ten hadn’t been easy on me last year. He didn’t fight for me anyway and made me feel crazy for believing Cass had been murdered.

  My darkness seems to be creeping up with each hour that passes. Doesn’t help that Moms calls every few hours. The texts are nonstop, too. She’s asking why I’m missing class if I’m okay, and finally, she says she’ll call the cops if I don’t respond. Knowing her, she’s not lying.

  After I dial her up, my fingers itch to click End before it patches through.

  “Cariña,” her soft Colombian accent sounds out on the other end. It’s full of worry and care, thick with emotion and trembling a little. I hate it. She can’t be like this face-to-face, but as soon as I’m one hundred miles away, she’s cool. “Talk to me.”

  “Pass,” I bite out, barely able to contain my resentment.

  It hadn’t always been like this. Moms and me, we were always close until Cass died. She pushed me away. Can’t blame her. We not only looked identical. We were always similar in every way—our hobbies, tastes in food, and even the way we dressed.

  “Please, Colton. Te extraño.” I miss you.

  “You could have driven me here, but you bailed.”

  “Don’t berate me, baby girl. It’s hard for me. You know this,” she pleads, her voice thick and choked up.

  Why do I hurt her back? Why can’t I be a normal child and accept how much she hurts me? Why can’t she be like normal moms and think about me first?

  “That’s a cop-out because you do whatever Mom wants.” The words leave me, and I hate each one. She’s trying, and I’m fucking it up.

  But she only tries when I call her out.

  “Eso no es justo,” she says, her voice small. That’s not fair.

  It’s not her fault that she loves Mom as much as she loves me. She can’t choose, but the decision is made for her every day, and she doesn’t fight.

  “She’s stubborn,” she continues. “You only have two years left. Why would you want to start over?”

  “Because he’s gone!” I screech, the anger and bitterness climbs up my throat. “I can’t breathe here, Moms! He’s in every hall and every fucking kid’s expressions. I don’t want their pity. I want my brother back.”

  She doesn’t scold me for swearing like she normally does. Hell, both of my parents don’t do much raising their voices anymore. They’ve let me flip my life upside down with whatever the hell I want since we lost Cass. Not sure what that says about them, but I’m done caring.

  “How about I pick you up for fall break?” she offers, but I’m already done with this conversation.

  “Sure thing, Moms. Gotta go.”

  “Don’t forget that I love you past the stars.”

  “To the Milky Way,” I respond like always before hanging up. It’s our goodbye, but it no longer rings true to me. Moms isn’t biologically my mom, not by blood, but that doesn’t change the fact that she is in fact my mom. She raised me
and Cass. We’re hers, through and through.

  Talking to Moms doesn’t seem to help as much as it once did. Doesn’t help that we’re all a mess and can’t seem to function as a family without Cass.

  We’re fucking hopeless, and I’m done trying.

  Six

  Jordan and the rest of Student Gov seem to gravitate toward me. They’re everywhere, and it’s driving me nuts. At first, it was easy to ignore them. Avoiding eye contact, making comments, or even thinking about them seemed to work, but as school progresses, that’s not the case.

  I can’t even skip class to smoke a bowl because they somehow always seem to show up when least expected.

  Today, though, getting high is my only goal. It’s not a little urge. I’m at the point of desperation. Alcohol used to be my go-to before Cassidy died. Sixteen, an alcoholic, living off the praise of seventeen-year-old boys and all the popular kids. What a fucking joke. Parties were constant occurrences at Crystal Tower. It’s like they invented them.

  But this year, it’s different. Weed calms me but doesn’t leave my mind foggy. That’s what I need to get through this year.

  Pulling out the little baggy I scored from Tanner in the city before coming here, I escape to the woods near the school. After the debacle with Ten, there’s nothing I want more than to hide. Student Gov is a bunch of annoying dicks who need to fuck right off.

  The twigs and earth crunch beneath my boots, each step loud while class stays in session. The clouds, murky and gray as usual this time of year, clings to the sky, enveloping the light in a cape of shadows. The chill isn’t to my bones yet. It’s still a good time to sit near the little lake in the center of this godforsaken forest. Technically, we’re not allowed to come here, but that doesn’t stop any of us. We do what we want when we want. Regardless of how much I spit on the others with my distasteful words, I’m as entitled as the rest.

  Near the lake, there sits a rock. Cass would take me there, and when he wasn’t here, it became my escape, one where I would draw and write, pretty much do anything to be away from Cass when he became overbearing. It’s insane how life changes and the only thing truly desired is my brother. I’d trade anything, even my soul, if that would give me another moment with him.