Bryce (Scandalous Boys #1)

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Bryce (Scandalous Boys #1) Page 8

by Natalie Decker


  “I’m so grounded as soon as you go home,” she says as she buries her face in her hands.

  I roll her desk chair over to her. “Hey. It’s going to be okay.” She lowers her hands, and I grab them. I pull them the rest of the way from her face and smile at her. “I’ve got your back, Mads.”

  “Why, though? I mean … isn’t this all weird for you too?”

  I shrug and lean back in her chair. “You keep forgetting something about me. I don’t care what people think. Not about us becoming friends. Not about if this turns into something else.” I edge toward her and tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. She gasps as soon as it’s secure, and I pull my hand away. “And I don’t care if it all blows up and we go back to avoiding each other again.” Well, that’s a lie. I’ll care a little more than I say if she goes back to avoiding me.

  She rises from her bed, causing me to move back a few inches. She brushes her hands over her T-shirt and wipes her eyes with a sniffle. “Let’s, um … get to work.”

  She walks around me and over to her desk. She plops down on the floor and starts tugging books out of her backpack.

  “Mads, you should take the chair.” I roll back to the desk.

  Madison shakes her head. “That’s okay. I like sitting on the floor. It helps me think better.” She laughs. “This is going to sound really strange, but I feel freer on the floor than confined to a desk when I’m doing homework.”

  I nod. “Not strange. I know what you mean. It’s like a floor is infinite space. A desk only has so much room.”

  “Yes! Exactly!” Her mossy eyes brighten before fading again. “So, um … since I didn’t switch groups, and, uh, that stuff just happened downstairs …” She chews on her bottom lip. Which makes me want to grab her and kiss that mouth of hers. “We can work out the problems, and then you and Graham can do them, I guess.”

  I want to tell her piss on my best friend. He’s the one being an idiot. We shouldn’t have to make stupid arrangements like this in order for him to get the same answers as us. But on the other hand, I’m glad he’s being a jackass. I get to spend time with Madison without having him stare at us like we’re aliens or something. I get to talk to her and watch her laugh or suck in her bottom lip with her teeth. It’s like these moments are all mine, and excuse me for not wanting to share.

  “Bryce?”

  “Hmm?”

  “Did you hear what I said about tomorrow?”

  No, I was too busy staring at your lips and imagining all the ways I’d get you to moan against my own mouth. “Uh, no, sorry. What about tomorrow?”

  She sighs. “Do you need to smoke?”

  “What?”

  She pushes herself to a stand and opens the door. “I’m not judging, but your leg bounces and you rub your hands against your jeans right before you put a cigarette in your mouth.”

  I raise a brow. “Oh, do I? Are you studying my habits now, Miss Maddy?”

  She rolls her eyes and snorts. “Don’t take this somewhere it’s not meant to go. I’ve just been around you long enough to know when you’re about to light up or in the need to light up.”

  I honestly wasn’t thinking about a smoke. But I can’t tell her what I was craving. She’ll run off like she did this morning. “It’s cool. I can wait.”

  “Okay.” She pulls out some paper and hands it over to me. She gives me a pencil, and we get started.

  We’re almost done with the problem sets when her door opens. Sarah strolls into the room with Graham trailing behind her. He looks like a whipped pup. Pathetic. I shake my head at him, and Madison clears her throat, pulling my attention right back to her. “Want to take a break?”

  “Sure.”

  We get up from the floor and leave. She stops at the bottom of the stairs and glances back at me. “Tree-house break?”

  “Sure.”

  Madison sits at one end of the window of my tree house, and I sit at the other. She looks over at me a few times, and I laugh. “What’s wrong?”

  “I don’t know. I just … If you’d asked me two months ago the last place I’d be, this would have been it. Well, hanging out with you alone would have been it.”

  “Oh, trust me, Smalls, I would have had the same answer. But now, what would you say?”

  She chews her lip. “I don’t know. Being in Mr. Clement’s class. His breath is god-awful.”

  I laugh and slap my leg with my hand. “Oh, I know. I have to sit in the front row near his desk, and his shit breath reaches everyone in the first two rows.”

  She makes a gagging noise. “That’s so gross. I’m lucky; I sit closer to the back. But as soon as he finds out you play sports, he is always coming over and talking to you.”

  “Yeah. Henry Byers sits next to me, and he gets a double dose of the dragon breath.”

  “Poor Henry.”

  I shrug. “Henry is kind of a dick, so it’s actually quite funny to me.”

  “Is he? He’s always nice to me and Emily.”

  “That’s because Henry has the hots for you and Emily. He’d be stupid not to.”

  She elbows my ribs. “You’re just saying that so I don’t shove you out the door and possibly to your death.”

  “Is that any way to treat me after I let you take over my tree house, and my bed?”

  Her cheeks turn scarlet. She fiddles with her hair.

  “Relax. It was just a joke,” I say.

  “I know.”

  I lean toward her and ask, “Do you?” Her gaze bores into mine, and I smile. “I meant what I said—that Henry would be stupid not to have the hots for you. Anyone would.”

  She rolls her eyes. “I can think of a lot of people who don’t have the hots for me.”

  “And they’re all fucking stupid.” I get closer. Our lips are mere inches from touching. I want to kiss her, but I don’t want to go down as the guy who kissed her with garlic breath. I need to back off.

  “Right, well, it doesn’t matter.”

  I pull back a little. “Why?”

  “Because no one has ever asked me out. I know what the guys call me behind my back. Drunk parties bring out the honesty in everyone, don’t they?”

  I look away. “I guess.” Fuck. Did I say anything about her? It was probably when I thought she was a little prissy princess.

  From the corner of my eye, I catch her movement. I glance back at her and see her stand. “We should get back.”

  “Okay.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Madison

  My heart is racing like it does after running ten miles and sprinting the last lag of the mile. My palms are all sweaty. Other parts of me are probably sweating too, but I don’t exactly know how to check without Bryce seeing.

  So I play it as cool as possible. Even though I can hear thump-thump-thump hammering in my ears, and I’m sure he can hear it too. Maybe if I create a lot of space between us I can pass it off as something else if he asks. There is only one spot in my room, though, that can create that distance, and I’d rather lick the backside of a slimy toad than sit on my bed. Because directly above it is Sarah and Graham giggling, kissing, and watching some video clips on her phone.

  Bryce looks about as annoyed as I feel as soon as Sarah says, “Stop it.” And playfully shoves Graham.

  He tickles her again. “You stop it.”

  “No, you,” she says through giggles.

  It goes on like this six more times before I finally can’t take anymore. “Both of you knock it off. We’re trying to do our homework in here. If you can’t stop being a bunch of bubbly idiots for more than five minutes, then get the hell out!”

  Sarah sits up and glares at me. “Or what, Madison? This is my room too. And if I want my boyfriend in here with me I can have him in here.” She emphasizes the word my like I needed a reminder that Graham’s her boyfriend. Which really just pisses me off more. I’m done being nice and kissing this little bitch’s ass!

  “You know what, Sarah? I’ve had it.” I glare at her from my
spot on the floor. “I let you have my closet. Let you paint my walls. But I will be forever damned if I let you do one more fucking thing to my room. Because that’s what it is. It’s my room.”

  She starts a rebuttal, but I interrupt her, “Does anyone even know why you are here?” I look around the room, and when no one says anything, I laugh. “Wow. Well, I hope the wardrobe, shoes, and purses that you remind me every single day are so much better than the rags I own are worth it. I’d be ashamed to wear anything my parents bought me with stolen money. But you go ahead, wear your dream-crushing merchandise like a badge of honor.”

  Her jaw clenches, and Graham stares at her, then at me. “What’s she talking about?”

  “Nothing. Right, Madison? She’s just jealous because you love me and not her. She’s always been jealous of me. Isn’t that right, Maddy?”

  I’ve got her. She knows it, too. “Oh, sooooo jealous. Jealous my parents aren’t facing a trial for stealing millions of dollars from their employees. Sooooo jealous that I’m not homeless, and no one else was willing to take me in.”

  “Shut up, Madison! Or I swear I will ruin you.”

  Bryce whistles beside me. “This has been fun, girls, but Mads and I really need to finish up this last problem. Graham, take your girlfriend downstairs, or I won’t let you copy off me later.”

  Graham swallows and somehow convinces Sarah to follow him out of the room. Once the door is shut, Bryce shakes his head at me. “What?” I ask.

  “Stellar move, Madison.” He presses his finger against his lips. “You know the secret to revenge is to do it in a way that destroys your enemy without them knowing it was you.”

  “Sounds like you’ve made your fair share of enemies.”

  He shakes his head. “Forget it. The answer to the last problem is zero.” Bryce stands, and I stare at him. He leaves my room without another glance back at me.

  The whole stupid evening plays over and over inside my head. I should have stopped him from leaving. I shouldn’t have said what I said. He doesn’t deserve my cruel remarks. He’s been nothing but nice, and what have I been? A little bitch. Like someone else I know.

  Lying in bed, I toss my head back and look straight up above me. I see dark cherry wooden slats almost resembling the underside of a deck—or a tree-house floor. I squeeze my eyes shut. I can’t think about the tree house. That’ll make me think about Bryce all over again.

  My alarm blares beside me. I turn over and stare at the big red digits. I swear it feels like I’ve only been lying in bed for ten minutes, not eight hours. Smacking the off button, I shift to my back and rub my aching eyes.

  I’ve got to get up, get energized, and focus on my meet today. If I drag ass, my times will suck. And if I want a scholarship anywhere far away from this place, I need to have good times. Well, if I want to go to college, period, I’m going to need a scholarship.

  Okay, I’ve probably laid here long enough. I chuck the covers off and sluggishly head to my dresser. I grab a pair of white undies from the top drawer, shirt, bra, and jeans. Yeah, it’s going to be a muggy, hot-ass day, and I’ll be miserable, but there’s no way in hell I’m wearing the last three pairs of shorts left. I haven’t gotten to my laundry yet.

  Stepping into the bathroom, I turn on the shower and wait for the water to heat up. While I wait, my attention lands on my panties. I pick up the soft cotton and examine them from front to back. They look normal, but when I open them, there is a giant hole right where the crotch is.

  What the heck? I leave the bathroom and return to my room to hunt for another pair of undies. Inside my drawer, every pair, I mean even the granny-style panties I wear on those PMSing days, have a hole cut into the crotch area. I clench my fist and release it, then clench it again. I’m going to beat her so hard, she’ll be put in the hospital with a possible coma!

  At least that’s what I want to do. She stirs in her bed. She glares at me, but then her eyes lower to my hand and she smiles. Like that stupid Cheshire Cat from Alice in Wonderland. “Good morning, Madison.”

  “Madison!” my mother calls out, interrupting the verbal rant inside my head. “Did you leave this shower running?”

  I turn from Sarah and head into the hall. My mom is standing beside the bathroom door with a scowl on her face. I can’t hold back the tears forming. As much as I don’t want to be that brat who tattles, I’m going to. It’s low, but I can’t do this anymore.

  “Madison, what’s wrong?”

  I hold up my underwear and point back at my room. “She ruined all my underwear!”

  “Madison, I’m sure that’s not true.”

  My jaw drops. “Are you kidding me? Yes, it is. Go look. She did this to every pair!”

  “Are you sure it was her? Bryce was in there yesterday. And so was Graham.”

  I shake my head and push past her into the bathroom. She starts to say something along the lines of, “You can’t blame Sarah for everything,” and I slam the door closed. Yeah, end of discussion. If she wants to play hard, fine by me.

  I shower quickly and dress, commando-style. I grab my backpack and keys and walk past Sarah. “Afraid I’ll steal your homework and keys?” She giggles.

  “Nope.”

  She narrows her eyes. “Whatever.” She stomps off to the bathroom, and I head downstairs and out the door.

  I feel like yelling, “Oh, by the way, have fun taking the bus, bitch!” But I’m enjoying this moment of her being so unaware of me leaving her. And also, if my mom heard this, she’d make me come back, wait, and take the horrible leech to school.

  Settling into my seat, I sigh. I’m about to turn my car on when someone taps on the glass. I look over and huff out a sigh of relief. It’s only Bryce, not my mom. My car is kind of a POS, and I have to roll down my windows by hand.

  Bryce folds his arms against the door and eyes me up. “Smalls, I wanted to … Wait, why are you in your car at six forty? We don’t have to be at school for another hour.”

  “Yeah, so? Are you going to arrest me for going in early?”

  “No. But it’s a ten-minute drive.”

  I nod. “I know. Do me a favor—get in or stop talking so I can go.”

  He smiles. “You’re ditching her?”

  I don’t answer him. His smile widens. “Nice. All right.” He moves around my car over to his. He snatches his bag, then returns to mine, and takes a seat in the passenger side.

  I don’t wait for him to buckle in. I just put the car in reverse and pull away from the house. Should I feel slightly guilty about leaving Sarah to fend for herself? Possibly. But you know what? I don’t care. She’s gone too far this time.

  I could handle the walls turning pink, my paintings going to the attic for storage, my closet being taken over. I could even handle her turning Graham against me and posting my drawings all over the place. But it wasn’t enough for her to ruin my clothes? Now she had to violate my underwear too?

  My fingers tighten around the steering wheel as we head to school. “I can’t believe my own mom took her side over mine!” I snap. “She has everyone wrapped around her damn finger. No one can see the evil bitch she really is!” I slam my palm against the wheel and growl, “Do you know that because of what her stupid parents have done my mom decided to split our college funds so we can help Sarah better herself too?”

  I shake my head. The anger inside me boils. I move my right hand to the shifter. “It’s such a waste. I don’t even have to be a mind reader to tell you the first thing that will happen. First semester in, she’ll party so much, probably do blow or who the heck knows what, and fail out. She’ll be back at home with my parents, and they’ll go broke supporting that miserable, spoiled brat. Because they’ll be too afraid to tell her no. They’ll feel sorry her parents are locked up. She has no one. That’s what they told me and Kyle when we learned she was staying with us.”

  Bryce’s hand covers mine. The warmth of his touch causes my stomach to flip. I peer over at him and then back at the road. I
should pull my hand from his. Is it weird that I don’t want to?

  “I’m sorry,” he says. “Your parents are really good people, though. It would have been very out of the ordinary if they didn’t do something like this. They don’t strike me as the kind of people who would stand by and let someone suffer, you know?”

  I mumble, “I know. That’s what makes this worse. I want to be mad at them. But I can’t blame them because that’s who they are.”

  I don’t head to school. I drive straight to Emily’s house, even though it’s early, and there’s a good chance Emily isn’t even up. You’d swear by looking at her on any given day that she takes hours to make herself look like that, but in reality, it’s only ten minutes.

  “Where are we?” Bryce asks as I ease into her driveway.

  “Emily’s house. I drive her every morning.”

  We both get out of the car after I shut it off. He looks up at the large, mansion-like two-story and then over at me. “She’s got some nice digs. She doesn’t throw parties here like the other snobs, I take it.”

  I shake my head as we approach the front door. “Her parents are always here. And if they do leave, she has to go with.” I ring the doorbell and wait.

  Bryce coughs, and I glance over at him. “You’re not getting sick, are you? Because I have a really big meet today, and I can’t afford to catch anything.”

  “No. I just had a tickle. You’re so high-strung today. Chill.”

  I narrow my eyes. “You chill. I’ve got—” The door opens, and Deanne, the maid, greets us. “Hey, Deanne, is Emily up?”

  “She is, Miss Issac. Should I tell her you are here?”

  “No need. I’ll just go right up.” I smile and enter the house. Bryce tags along. I start toward the long, winding staircase and glance back at Deanne. “Is he okay to come up? Or would he be better off down here?”

  “He can enter Miss Emily’s room.”

  I grab a hold of Bryce’s hand and pull him up the stairs with me.

 

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