Cruel Boys

by Nora Cobb

  Dom shakes his head then scoffs. “At least they call me back.”

  “They have to, or Mel won’t take their calls,” mutters Chase. “Don’t pretend like you’re some top talent, Dom.”

  They’re not hiding themselves from each other. I realize as I continue to listen. Whereas the other students will always one personal or another, they rarely will ever express how they really feel about someone. To hear them talk in such direct words, in a way, is an odd comfort.

  A girl in front turns around and shushes them. Her hair color is multicolored, and she has on a T-shirt that is shapeless. That’s the trouble with organic. She’s not a film major. Maybe dance, judging by her posture and expensive yoga pants.

  “Excuse me,” Chase frowns. “Mind yourself unless you want to stay a Lululemon influencer for a career.”

  “Jagan is meditating,” she whispers, and resumes meditating herself. Girl, you got guts.

  We look toward the stage, and Jagan waves at us. I’m freaking out about having to stand in front of everyone and give my campaign speech. The dread wraps itself around me, and I hold my body still. I don’t want to end up on stage before I’m ready. Jagan smiles and launches into another monologue about youth and hitchhiking to LA with a dollar in his pocket.

  “Some people like to make deals all the time.” He takes a rare pause to breathe in deeply. “But the best deals are the ones you make with yourself, deals that you make to get through the day because you think you’ve got to be somewhere. But you’re young, and youth is a state of mind that stays with you. Rock that prana, baby.”

  “What time is it?” Silas leans back and rests his elbows on the hard stone.

  I never really looked at him before, but when the sunlight hits his green eyes, I can see streaks of copper glowing in them. It’s like staring into the flames of a furnace as his mind works and schemes. He’s perfected the placid look of boredom. His face shows no emotion as he stares straight ahead at Jagan on stage. The only movement is his dark auburn waves when a breeze blows through his hair.

  “If you stare at me any harder, Victoria.” His cold gaze switches toward me. “I might think you want me.”

  I lean back, so he can hear me. “I’m trying to figure out if you’re a true threat or just crazy.”

  He laughs. “I know which you are, little girl.”

  It would be a big mistake not to take this guy seriously. I know less about him than Dom or Chase, and I know hardly anything about them. I turn back around.

  “If you want a picture to swoon over, Vicki,” whispers Chase. “Silas has a fan page. WWW.all that and a ten inch dick.com.”

  “It’s dot net,” Silas deadpans. “Dotcom was taken. And fuck you, Chase.”

  “I can fuck you better.” Chase licks his upper lip slowly.

  Dom laughs but stops swiftly when Jagan opens his eyes to see who’s making the noise.

  I lower my head and peek behind me. Chase is the most approachable-looking. He has the classic boy-next-door look amped up to eleven. Dark brown hair that’s cut to look like it’s always messy when it’s styled. Hazel eyes that shift from brown to amber to green. He dresses down in casual clothes that anyone could get at the mall. But his joking covers up a shrewdness. He is always watching, and I wonder what his deal really is.

  Dom nudges me with his foot to get my attention. “Vicki’s been asking about the list.”

  Silas scoff. “First on her to-do list should be to lose that middle-class accent unless she wants to play diner waitresses her whole career.”

  “What’s that?” I reply. “I can’t hear you because you’re talking out of your asshole.”

  Chase covers his mouth. “That was some cold prana, baby. I may have to vote for her.”

  I bite my lip to keep from smiling. They’re dicks, but they can take what they dish out. Maybe this is some kind of test to see if I belong on the list. But I’m kidding myself because the stuff they say about my dad isn’t cool.

  “I want to be behind the camera, anyway,” I add.

  “Behind the camera?” says Silas. “Tits like those ought to be bouncing on camera. Why don’t you give Dom’s dad a call, I’m sure he’d be happy to help jump-start your career.”

  “Hey.” Dom gives them both a warning look.

  I look over, but I don’t say anything. And Dom avoids my gaze.

  “Who’s your dad dating tonight, Dom?” Silas won’t back down. “Someone moving up the ladder, or going down?”

  “You may have a new mother by tomorrow morning.” Laughs Chase.

  “Not my mother, asshole.” Dom grabs Chase by the collar. His voice is threatening, his face is twisted into a murderous scowl, and his free hand is clenched into a fist. “Don’t you talk about my mother.”

  “Sorry, bro,” Chase looks at the stage. “I wasn’t talking about her. Just your dad’s latest slampiece.”

  The mood shifts and the banter stops. Silas lets Chase go but I’d already seen too much. His gaze catches mine and I quickly turn away. I keep my head facing forward, not daring to look back, afraid of the expression I just saw on Silas’ face.

  I know I just saw something I’m not supposed to.

  I remember the look he gave me when he saw me here for the first time. I shiver but try to play it off as if I’m just tossing back my hair.

  Jagan ends his feel-good rant with another chant. I mumble, “Pure awareness I am” while waiting for the seconds to pass so I can go home.

  ***

  “His mother died from cancer years ago,” replies Theo to my question.

  Luna, Theo, and I are on our phones. We rarely talk one on one. It’s always a live chat with the three of us. My phone is propped up on the counter while I slice tomatoes for tonight’s salad.

  “Dom was really upset with Silas,” I reply. “I always thought Silas was the ringleader.”

  “He is,” pipes in Theo. “He’s the cruelest MF of the three, and don’t be fooled by him clamming up. It was probably a tactic.”

  “Yeah,” replied Luna. Her foot is visible as she paints her toenails. “He probably needs them to win the presidency.”

  “Excuse me,” I scoff strongly. “Candidate on the phone.”

  “Sorry, Vicki.” Luna smiles at the screen. “It was badass seeing you sitting with them during the senior meeting. There was a lot of chatter afterward.”

  “Was any of it good? I notice that people aren’t wearing my buttons.”

  Theo jumps in. “You need to debate Silas. He’s debonair on the surface, but he has the personality of oatmeal when all you want is pancakes, sausage, and eggs.”

  “Oh,” Luna groans. “You shouldn’t eat animals. We don’t like it when they eat us.”

  “Good point,” I scoff in surprise. “But we keep veering off the point. I need to know more about them. What do you know?”

  Silence is my answer, and I check my phone to see if the call was dropped. Luna is looking at something offscreen, probably her nails, and Theo is staring like he’s posing for a mugshot. I pick him.

  “Theo, what’s the dirt?”

  “Are you going to repeat this? Because you shouldn’t.”

  I scoff harder. “I don’t know because you haven’t told me anything yet.”

  Theo looks behind his shoulder as if he’s checking for the boogeyman. He goes so far as to check his dorm room door and lock it. He picks his phone up as he sits back down on his patchwork couch. I can see a drawing of Luna and me as anime space girls to the left of his head, taped to the wall. I never posed for that.

  “Theo,” I press.

  “Let me call you back. I don’t want it captured on video.”

  “Wait,” Luna whines, “I want to hear.”

  Theo sighs, and his brow is wrinkled as he begins to stress over the conversation. He’s usually carefree about the backstabbing at school. It doesn’t bother him because he’s not on the radar. But whatever Theo has to tell me, it will put him on it.

  Now, I have
to know. I make a decision. “I’m picking you up in fifteen minutes, and you’re spending the night here. Okay?”

  “I’m coming too.” Luna switches off her phone.

  He takes a breath, but his forehead is sweaty, and the inside corners of his computer glasses are fogging up. He’s obviously scared of something, and maybe he shouldn’t have this discussion on a cell phone in a dorm room. The tech gang could be listening in already.

  “Theo, I will keep my mouth shut.”

  “I hope so, Vicki. Because if you don’t, they’ll know I squealed.”

  ***

  Dad lifts an eyebrow when he sees us clustering in the kitchen nook. Luna is dressed in her pajamas. She doesn’t wear an old, oversized graphic T-shirt and sweats to bed like me. She has on a plush terry robe, a white cotton tank top, and floral drawstring pants. Theo is wearing a Redwood T-shirt and cutoff sweats. I’m still in my jeans, but next time, I’ll know to dress down.

  “It’s a last-minute sleepover,” I explain to Dad.

  Dad eyes Theo and gives me a concerned look.

  I sigh. “Your gaydar is broken, Daddy.”

  He looks skeptical. “I hear inappropriate noises, and everyone’s going home.”

  “Even you?” With wide eyes, Luna gives Dad a flirty smile.

  “That’s funny, dear.” He laughs like a dork. “Have fun, kids.” And he’s out the door.

  I look at Luna hard and then shrug with my hands outstretched. She smiles and looks at the floor like she hasn’t seen gray tile before. I have enough drama without dealing with her crush.

  “Are you crushing or just practicing? Because that’s my dad.”

  “I can’t help it. When I see a cute guy, I get flirty.”

  I frown. “Girl, don’t go there because I will end you.”

  Theo walks over to the white French-door refrigerator and pulls both the top doors open. He sticks his face inside and starts looking around. He’s moving Tupperware and cartons, searching for something to eat, I guess.

  “Theo, do you need help?” I ask, “Or do you think you’re at home?”

  He stands back with a loaf of bread, mayo, deli cheese, and sliced roast beef balanced under his chin. He plops it down on the center island and climbs up onto the stool. He pauses for a moment and looks around for something else.

  “Hey, Vic,” he says, “where are your utensils?”

  I scoff. “Would you like a plate too?”

  “Okay, thanks.” He smiles like this is normal when you visit someone’s home.

  I yank open a cabinet and take out three plates. Dad had the dated almond-and-green surfaces painted white, blue and gray. The kitchen is smaller than our old one, which makes it cozier to hang out. Luna sits down on the opposite side of the island and starts to make a cheese sandwich. Theo piles on the roast beef, and I make a mental note to get more for Dad. No point in getting hungry while watching them eat. I make a cheese sandwich with lettuce.

  “You know this is the price of admission, right?” I ask. “I’m expecting something I can use.”

  With his mouth wide open, Theo pauses before taking a big bite out of his sandwich. He chews thoughtfully and wipes a little mayo off the corner of his mouth with his finger. Maybe he’s stalling, but he’s not leaving this house until he talks about the three boys who run Redwood.

  I shake my head. They aren’t boys. They’re men on their way to becoming the kings of LA.

  “Sorry,” replies Theo. “I was hungry, and I forgot my baggie when I went to the cafeteria.”

  “Stop stalling,” I push.

  “You don’t mind if I chew and talk at the same time?”

  I glare at him and don’t say a word.

  Theo swallows and jumps right in. “It’s not Dom who is the problem; it’s his father. And you don’t want to go digging around into his past.”

  I grimace. “I already did a search online and saw some pretty rotten things.”

  “That’s nothing. That’s just the stuff they could print. Mel Vaughn is a dangerous man, and he ruins people as easily as I am now stuffing my face.”

  “I’ve known some pretty nasty people,” I say, thinking about Montlake and even some of the stuff my own brother did.

  “East-Coast mean is not the same as West Coast,” Luna chimes in. “I’m learning that in Palm Springs.”

  “She’s right. The thing with the East Coast is that people establish their roots, so you mess with someone and they don’t always go away. They have family, friends, and homes that aren’t so easy to give up. You fuck someone up and may end up seeing the bitter results every day.

  “Not like that on the West Coast. Sure, people settle here, but not for generations. People are transient. They move from mansion to mansion as their fortunes change. You fuck someone up here, and they leave town. You know that expression—you’ll never work in this town again. Well. Mel Vaughn probably said it first.”

  “I guess it’s a good thing you’re running against Silas and not Dom,” offers Luna.

  “Are you kidding me?” Theo looks at the unfolded wrappers of cold cuts lying on the counter and then the open loaf of bread. He swallows hard, squeezing his eyes shut.

  “Vic, babe,” he gasps, “You got milk?”

  I jump off the stool and head for the fridge. “Don’t stop talking. Tell me more.”

  “Mel Vaughn runs the industry from his bed, not his office. He’s a powerful producer. The next time you watch a film, look for his name. And if you want a part, you’ll have to ride him to get it—woman or man, young or old. He’s got his talons in everybody’s hide.”

  Luna wraps her robe tighter. “Everyone?” she whispers.

  “Only the super-rich and super-talented can avoid him,” explains Theo. “The guy is a weird-looking MF, too. His leathery face will make you wear sunscreen daily. He has no shame about the people he beds. Rumor has it that he’s got a wall with candid pictures.”

  “Like you,” quips Luna.

  Theo points at her. “That’s all in my mind. And I won’t blackmail you.”

  “So, this must be common knowledge.” I place a glass of milk in front of him and hand Luna bottled water.

  “No, I witnessed it.”

  I stare at him, and my ass almost misses the stool. “Did he try anything with you?”

  Theo shakes his head. “I’m a gawky a-hole with curly hair from Long Beach. He would never want me. I used to earn money as a waiter, working for a big caterer. There was this party I worked one night—very private. A guy who tried to gatecrash got beat up by security. Anyway, there was a girl there in her twenties. An up-and-coming actress, and she really was out of her element.” Theo pauses and eyes me.

  “I get your blatant hint. Go on.”

  “Well, it wasn’t good,” he continues. “She ended up spread-eagled on a dining room table and served as dessert. Someone should’ve called the cops, but we were all too scared.”

  “You could have done it anonymously,” suggests Luna.

  Theo shakes his head. “There is no such thing as anonymous. Somebody knows. But the head waiter did call for an ambulance.”

  “It was that bad?”

  Theo nods. “This happened a year after Dom’s mother died from cancer.”

  “So,” I reply, “Vaughn went off the rails after her death.”

  “No, he was like that before she died, but he kept it out of sight. After she died, he stopped giving a shit. He’s untouchable.” Theo finishes his milk. “Got a beer?”

  “As long as you’re talking,” I reply, getting him one.

  Theo wipes his hands on his shorts, and I hand him a napkin. “Vaughn wasn’t the only one at the party. Chase Evan’s parents were there too. It seems they have a wide-open marriage.”

  “What do they do?” I ask.

  “The Evans own a large modeling and talent acquisition agency on Wilshire.” He looks at a slack-jawed Luna. “No, you don’t want to go there.”

  “And Silas?”

>   “He’s the breadwinner of the family. Silas was a former child actor, and he’s risen and fallen. His family is pretty manipulative, and they want him to get back in. I’m not surprised that he’s running for student council. Maybe he hopes he can pull a Ronald Reagan and switch into politics.”

  “So, his home life must be somewhat normal?” asks Luna hopefully.