The Bullies Who Loved Me

by Mia Belle

  I avert my gaze. Is wanting to do the right thing betraying Eric? If Blake could see all this, would he be pissed at me for feeling sorry for the girl who indirectly killed him?

  I sigh, plowing my fingers through my hair. “It’s just…it’s hard for me. When I visit the hospital and see all the sick kids and parents who feel so helpless and hopeless, I want to do whatever I can to help them.”

  Ryder nods. “My family donates to hospitals every month.”

  “That’s not what I meant. I can’t help those kids. The most I can do is make them happy, give them hope. But we’re purposely destroying Daphne’s happiness.”

  He crosses his arms over his chest. “I don’t see it that way. She’s responsible for Blake’s suicide and now we’re taking revenge. Simple.” He grunts again. “And she’s causing this herself by choosing to stay. We gave her enough opportunities to get her ass out of our school. Eric can’t stand to see her. It reminds him of everything. The least she could do is make things easier for him by disappearing.”

  I guess he has a point. Daphne could have switched schools, but she’s staying at Leighton High. Is she maybe…punishing herself for what happened with Blake? Does she regret shattering his hopes and dreams?

  Or is she just stubborn? Stubborn and stupid, because there’s no way Eric or Ryder will stop until she’s gone.

  “Do me a favor, man,” Ryder says after a few minutes of silence. “The next time you want to second-guess what we’re doing, keep it to yourself. And don’t make me wonder…” He turns away, playing with his phone.

  I lift a brow. “You’re starting to have doubts about the bullying?”

  His lips purse. “Stop messing with my head. Everything I’m doing is for Eric. Yeah, I don’t like terrorizing anyone, but she needs to leave. And if she won’t go willingly, then we need to force her out.” He narrows his eyes. “And quit looking at me like that.”

  “It’s just nice to know the good Ryder is still in there somewhere.”

  He snorts. “That Ryder’s been dead for years.”

  “Because of your parents and everything?” He doesn’t feel like they love him or even care about him. He was born to continue the Kensington legacy and that’s that.

  “I don’t want to talk about it,” he snaps.

  We don’t say anything else and focus on the meet. The video starts over, but neither of us makes a move to stop it.

  “I miss Eric,” he says after a little while. “Feels like I haven’t seen him in months.”

  “He’ll be okay,” I assure him. “He just needs to deal with Blake’s death at his own pace.”

  He twists his nose. “If he’ll ever deal.”

  “He will. Wounds heal. It might take a little while, but they do.”

  He nods slowly like he’s not sure. I know for a fact that time does heal. My parents’ death broke my grandparents, but they had to be strong for me. Eric’s got his father and sister in his life. He’s not alone. They’ll always be there for him.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Daphne

  Of course I don’t tell my parents what happened at school today. That stupid Avery. What have I done to her, anyway? I understand why the Kings hate me, but her? She’s Ryder’s girlfriend, I think. I guess she’s doing it for him. Or maybe she’s just a bitch and likes screwing people over.

  I’m lying on my bed after dinner. Mom and Dad asked me to join them for a movie, but I told them I have a lot of homework to do.

  I just can’t shake off the memory of being locked in the basement. Caden…was it really him who saved me or did I imagine it? And if it was him, what does it mean? Is he messing with me? Does he expect me to owe him now? Is that what this is about? Well, I never asked him to open the door and I certainly will never do a favor for him. He and his friends can screw off.

  I roll onto my stomach, banging my head in my pillow. Why does a part of me think—hope—he opened the door because he cares?

  Stupid. He’s a King. A jerk. Those assholes don’t care about anyone but themselves. The truth is I never imagined them capable of doing this to me or anyone, but I suppose I never really knew them.

  My thoughts travel to Eric’s sister and the swim meet. I don’t know if she was acting on Eric’s behalf, maybe hoping I’d lower my guard so Eric could hurt me more. But I have a feeling she was genuine.

  The events of three months ago swirl around in my head as I grab another pillow and squish it to my chest.

  It was the end-of-the-year party, thrown, of course, at Ryder’s house. His parents weren’t home like usual and he made sure there was a lot of alcohol. Like, a shit-ton.

  Blake and his friends were celebrating their graduation, each one looking forward to start a new chapter in their lives.

  I came with Zoe, and she was chasing the Kings like all the other girls. They were dancing in the ballroom, each with a cup of beer. Zoe usually drank at parties, but she knew her limits so I wasn’t worried.

  I danced along with her and the others, but I wanted to go outside for some fresh air. The weather was beautiful and I decided to walk into the nearby woods, toward the lake. I was thinking of dipping my toes in the water, something I loved to do whenever I was at the beach.

  As I was enjoying the feeling of the soft breeze on my face, I heard footsteps and laughter in the distance. A few drunken kids were running around in the woods.

  I ignored them at first, but then I heard a girl yell and I quickly ran in that direction.

  Blake, his best friend Jackson, and a sophomore were drunk and laughing and drinking. It was dark out, but I could see them clearly.

  Blake and the girl kept forcing more alcohol down, as though they had livers of steel. Jackson didn’t drink as much. The girl pulled Blake close and started to dance. The three of them were letting loose and being free, all the while drinking more alcohol.

  Then Blake tugged the girl closer, kissing her strongly. She pushed against his chest, saying she had a boyfriend. But Blake didn’t care. He continued kissing her. He was used to getting his way, to having girls throw themselves at him. She continued to push, but he was stronger.

  Jackson was laughing like this was the most fun he had in a while. I was about to burst out of the bushes and demand they leave her alone, when the girl slapped Blake across the face.

  “No,” she slurred. “I said…have boyfriend.”

  “Come on.” Blake pulled her close again. “You know you want me. Everyone does.”

  She slapped him again. His face contorted in anger and he grabbed her, shoving her so strongly she crashed into the boulder behind them. “Fine,” he snarled. “I don’t think you’re that hot, anyway.”

  He continued glaring at the girl, but his face shifted to worry when she didn’t get up.

  Jackson stepped forward, his face a little pale. “She’s not moving.”

  Blake inched closer to her, slowly bending down and turning her around. Her face was covered in blood and the top of her head was sunken in.

  Jackson gasped. “She’s dead.”

  Sweat started to shine on Blake’s face. “Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.” He ran his hand down his face. “What the fuck do we do?”

  “We run.” Like the speed of light, they dashed out of the woods. I stared at the body, my heart pounding.

  He…he killed her.

  My legs were so shaky, I was hardly able to walk as I stumbled back to the party. I told Zoe I was going home and left to my house.

  I just witnessed a murder…and I had no idea what to do about it. I was up for hours tossing and turning before finally falling asleep.

  Someone found the body the next day and the police investigated. A few people saw Blake and Jackson leave with the girl to the woods and return without her. Both guys were arrested. I don’t know how it happened, but Jackson confessed to the murder. I bet it was because he worshipped Blake. Blake could have chosen anyone to be his best friend but he chose him.

  I was the only witness and knew I co
uldn’t let Jackson confess to a crime he didn’t commit. So I told the cops what I saw that night. They dug deeper, but couldn’t find any proof to my claims.

  Blake was found innocent and Jackson was sent to prison. He confessed to a crime he didn’t commit. No matter how many people I tried to tell the truth to, how determined I was to bring Blake to justice, no one believed me. How could the golden boy of Leighton High commit such a horrendous crime? Jackson was a nobody. It made more sense that he killed that girl than the amazing Blake Alexander.

  No one knew what a disgusting pig he was.

  Because I made such a fuss over the whole thing, Dukan University decided to revoke their admission. At first they didn’t care that Blake had been questioned by the police—I guess they figured it was routine. But once I started talking about how drunk he was and how he forced that girl to kiss him, they didn’t want him to represent their school anymore. He wouldn’t swim for them, wouldn’t follow his dreams.

  Blake killed himself a few weeks after the college dropped him.

  Eric and half the town blamed me for what happened. They claimed I lied, painting Blake into something he wasn’t. They thought he was this perfect person who would never hurt anyone. They didn’t even think he drank at parties.

  Mom called my grandmother and they arranged for me to spend the summer with her, to give the town a chance to cool off.

  I thought everyone would get over it by now. That they’d come to realize Blake wasn’t perfect. But no. The fact that he killed himself proved to them how lost and hurt he was.

  Of course I feel terrible that he committed suicide, but that wasn’t my fault. I just wanted to get the truth out there. It’s not right for Jackson to sit in jail for a crime he didn’t commit.

  Blake chose to kill himself. No one forced him. So Eric blaming me for what happened is bullshit.

  Not that it matters. He’s determined to have revenge for his brother’s death.

  I squeeze my pillow, shoving the memories away. I don’t regret telling the truth. Even if it means I’ll have to endure hell at school for the next two years. I’ll handle it. Like I said before, I won’t let them break me.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Daphne

  The whole school knows I was locked in the basement. They point and giggle as I walk down the hallway the next day.

  Even the teachers know. A few, including Coach, rush over to me, asking if I’m okay. She looks very worried, almost like she blames herself. Avery told them we went to the basement together and left, but then I went back and got locked inside.

  Right. Because this was all my fault.

  As I head to my locker and open it, something shoots out at me. I flinch, covering my face. Nothing happens. When I lower my hands, I see a toy pig sticking out of my locker. Its legs are taped to the back of it. I try to pull it off, but it doesn’t budge. The jerks glued it on strongly.

  When I try to push it back in, it oinks. It’s so loud I bet VP Henson can hear it. I push harder, but the sound just grows stronger.

  A few nearby kids chuckle.

  Avery and her squad slide over to me, her with a huge smile slicing her face in half. “Wow. Look at that. A piggy for a piggy.” She scans me from top to bottom. “You might want to look in the mirror. You don’t want to turn into your fatass mother, do you?”

  Clenching my teeth, I let out a growl and leap toward her. She shrieks, backing into her friends.

  “Oh my god. Miss Henson! Daphne Pickett attacked me.”

  I whirl around. The VP’s coming down the hall, her heels clacking against the floor. How is it that no one’s around when they torture me, but when I dare defend my mom the vice principal is conveniently there?

  She crosses her arms over her chest, holding my gaze. “Is there a problem, girls?” Her eyes move from Avery to me.

  “Yes! She punched me!”

  “I didn’t touch her.” I narrow my eyes. “But I wish I did.”

  Avery flares her nostrils. From the look in her eyes, I know she’s warning me to watch it or her boyfriend will end me.

  Internally rolling my eyes, I face the VP. “It was a misunderstanding and won’t happen again.”

  Miss Henson eyes me. “You’re walking on thin ice, Daphne Pickett. I’ll let this go, but one more complaint about you and we’ll have to call your parents.”

  Avery smiles smugly behind her. Miss Henson shakes her head in disappointment before strutting down the hall, heels clacking even louder.

  I turn to my locker, and remember the pig. Damn thing. I can feel Avery watching as I try to pry it off my locker. It still won’t budge.

  Reaching into my locker, I retrieve a pair of scissors and start poking holes in the pig.

  Avery gasps. “Oh my god. Pigget, how can you injure an innocent animal?”

  The rest of the kids gasp dramatically and murmurs cloud the halls. Ignoring everyone, I continue until I cut the pig into pieces.

  The doors open and everyone zooms toward the entrance, where the Kings step inside.

  At once, the girls flock to them, each vying for their attention. Avery wraps her arms around Ryder’s neck, gazing into his eyes coyly. His face is unreadable as he stares back. Caden twists away from the girls clawing at his hair. Eric’s mind doesn’t seem to be here. There’s no mistaking the pain and anger on his face, though.

  I chuck the pig pieces into the garbage bin, slam my locker shut, and take off for my first class. We’re having an oral quiz today and I want to make sure no one and nothing makes me late. Good thing the Kings are too busy warding off the girls, or else I’m sure they’d find some way to stall me and I’d miss the quiz.

  I spend the few minutes before class starts reviewing my notes. I don’t have any friends here, so the least I can do is get good grades. I want to build a future for myself and take care of my parents. I have no idea what I want to study in college yet, but I’m not worrying about it right now. I still have two more years of high school to get through.

  The crowd grows stronger as it heads toward the classroom. Eric’s admirers laugh and twirl their hair, each telling him something I don’t think he’s interested in. One girl presses her hand to his chest, and he drags it off. His eyes are still pained, but he’s trying to mask it. Hiking his backpack up his shoulder, he flips his head aside to push the golden hair out of his eyes, and enters the classroom. He plops down on a chair at the back, shutting his eyes and sinking in his seat like his body is too heavy for him to support.

  I turn away. Why the hell am I watching him? Who cares if he’s tired or broken or whatever? I should feel sorry for him when he’s ruining what should be the best years of my life?

  “Clear your desks,” the history teacher, Miss Flores, commands as she shuts the door and places her bag on her desk.

  We comply quickly, well aware that her quizzes count for twenty percent of our grades. Once she’s satisfied with our clear desks, she begins the quiz.

  She asks Eric a question, but he doesn’t answer. All heads turn to the back of the room, where he’s slumped forward, eyes shut.

  He’s sleeping?

  Most kids exchange confused and shocked glances. Eric’s not a good student, but I’ve never seen or heard of him falling asleep during class—and during a quiz?

  Miss Flores approaches his desk and taps his arm. Nothing happens. He’s breathing heavily and seems to be in a deep sleep.

  She taps harder and he sits up straight, nearly shooting out of his chair.

  “Good morning, Mr. Alexander.”

  He blinks up at her, then scans around the room like he’s trying to figure out where he is.

  “We’re in the middle of a quiz,” she continues. “Are you prepared?”

  He stretches his arms, a wide grin on his face, probably hoping to win her over with his charming smile. It works on most female teachers, but not Miss Flores. “Of course I studied.”

  She nods before asking him his question. He’s all calm, cool, and collecte
d as he smiles up at her. The pain is gone from his eyes, but they’re empty now.

  “I see you didn’t study, Mr. Alexander.” She faces the rest of the class. “Does anyone know the answer?”

  No one says anything, all focused on Eric, who looks like he wants to murder someone. No other teacher would dare embarrass a King in front of the other students.

  Miss Flores’s gaze roves around the room before settling on me. “Daphne?”

  Eric’s glare practically slices my head in half. The other kids could be scared of him, but I’m not going to risk failing this quiz because of some jerk.

  I tell her the answer nice and clear, making sure I’m loud enough for him to hear. His hands grip the sides of his desk, eyes flaming.

  A bright smile conquers Miss Flores’s face. “Excellent, Daphne.”

  She calls on other kids, who are too scared of Eric to answer their questions correctly. She asks me each time, and each time I give her to correct response.

  The rest of the day passes, and I’m waiting for Eric or his minions to punish me for embarrassing their King, but no one says anything. They don’t even look my way. That causes goosebumps to crawl over my skin because I have no idea what they have planned.

  I catch some girls shooting me daggers during lunch, but figure that’s not from the incident during history, it’s just their usual glares.

  I pick at my food, not really hungry. It’s like my body knows something is going to happen. I wait for it all day, but it’s as if Eric forgot about it, or doesn’t care.

  And when the final bell rings, everyone leaps out the door, ready to start the weekend. I take my time packing up like usual and slowly make my way out the front door. Everyone’s rushing home, to practice, or to hang out with friends.

  I slip my backpack over my shoulders and embark on the short journey home. As I’m passing a small alleyway a few blocks away from the diner, someone pulls me inside, hauling me to the ground.

  A hard, wet substance smacks me in the face before splatting to the ground. When I look down I see gooey, yellow slime.