Beverly Hills Prep Academy The Complete Boxset : A Light Bully Romance

by Melissa Adams

  The videos of the nominees start to be shown on the huge movie theatre size screen behind the podium.

  I’m barely paying attention because in all honesty, the last twenty four hours have been a daze: I feel as if I were watching myself doing shit rather than actually doing shit.

  I really hope that Alex is right and there's an explanation to that pro and cons list I found in Ayla's book.

  I was up all night trying to figure out a way that Ayla hasn't written that stuff about me but...

  And that bet... The way I acted last night with her...

  I wanted to hurt her so much that I almost told her that I was only with her because of that bet.

  I know it’s a lie but I wanted to make her bleed like she made me bleed.

  Michelle manages to look slutty even in the forty five second video she shot for her Homecoming court presentation: it's almost funny like I never noticed that about her when we were dating.

  And then I hear her announce:

  “The next nominee for Homecoming Queen is a new student here at BHPA: Ayla Jennings!”

  And then it's worse than a fucking nightmare: at first I don't even realise that what I’m seeing is Tuna’s swimming trunks and his hand opening the changing hut’s door.

  When I see Ayla's red hair near Alex’s naked form, I want to react but it's too late.

  The camera changes angle and Ayla's profile is visible while she slides Alex's cock as deep as she can down her throat and when she comes back up he moans:

  “Right there, baby! Don't stop... I’m so fucking close...”

  This is when the two realise that the door is open, Alex pulls out and...

  I hear people gasping around me and the light in the room comes on right when on the screen Alex is making a real mess on Ayla's face and chest.

  And his voice is the first I hear when he roars:

  “Someone stop that fucking video, right the fuck now!”

  I look at her and she's frozen in place, pale as a ghost, her eyes rapidly filling with tears.

  Part of me wants to take her away, like I did on her birthday, another part of me, the hurt one, is slow to react.

  “Jenna, Char, take Ayla home. I’ll be there soon. I’m going to the principal’s office.”

  Alex has a murderous look in his eyes: I’ve never seen him so protective of anyone since... Polly.

  Ayla is dragged out of the auditorium by her girlfriends like a zombie.

  She has her eyes trained on the floor and her shoulders slump in defeat.

  I look at the podium where Michelle is looking at the whole commotion with a little innocent expression on her face that can probably fool everyone else but not me.

  Maybe if she's behind this, the list could be somehow one of her schemes too?

  I tell Alex that we should go to speak to the principal but Tuna stops us:

  “Guys, I need to talk to you, it’s urgent. Not here. I need to go home and you need to come with me.”

  We leave the auditorium without argument: whenever one of us says it's urgent, we don't mess around.

  We go to Alex's house, the pool house is always the place that offers guaranteed privacy.

  Tuna takes his cell phone out of his pocket and insists in hushed tones that we too leave our phones inside.

  We sit outside at one of the tables in the backyard.

  “So, what was so urgent that trumped going to speak to the principal about what just happened?”

  Alex still looks ready to murder someone.

  “WHAT HAPPENED ... THE video ... It was me. I gave it to Miles.”

  We both gasp at Tuna’s confession.

  “For how much I’m trying to make sense of what you just said, dude, I fucking can't. Care to explain?”

  And Tuna explains everything: how he was approached by Michelle with the Latin tests copies, how she knows about the bet and how she’s been blackmailing him that she’d tell Ayla.

  How she had the recordings he’d done of his private times with Ayla.

  Alex is more and more livid by the second.

  “Why the fuck didn't you tell us as soon as that bitch approached you? Why did you wait until today?”

  Tuna doesn't have the courage to look us in the eye.

  “Because she said that if I told you, she’d tell Ayla and Ms. Webber. But after today ... I can't do shit like that to Ayla anymore. I... I think Michelle knows what we do because somehow she must have access to our phones. This is how she must've gotten those recordings.”

  Alex nods.

  “It makes sense. And those texts about me being fine to share... That Instagram post that seemed to be from Ayla and that she always denied posting... It all makes sense. But I don't think Michelle’s smart enough to hack into our phones all by herself. She must've had help.”

  We all nod.

  “I think I know who helped her, guys...”

  Alex’s theory is that EM is the one that hacked into our phones.

  I’m not convinced.

  “But why? If he wants to be one of us...”

  “Exactly because of that. He probably wants to know what to do to get in easier. He might be spying our texts and calls.”

  “So what can we do?”

  Alex smirks.

  “I’ve got the perfect way to bring Michelle down. And we’ll see if EM helped her.”

  “How?”

  “By letting him in the A-Team.”

  “You're kidding!”

  I yell.

  “I don't trust EM, we can't let him in!”

  Alex's smirk grows wider:

  “Oh don’t worry, bro. We’ll have an initiation, we’ll let him think that he's in and we’ll use him against Michelle. The reason why I never wanted to let EM in wasn't that he was fat or that he's geeky. It’s that I sensed that he wanted in so much that he’d do anything. And you both know what our brotherhood is all about. If EM’s prepared to sell his soul for popularity... We’ll buy it.”

  I sigh.

  “Ok, now you sound fucking scary even to me, dude! Honestly.”

  Alex laughs but it's Tuna that looks at me with a worried expression.

  “Sam, what the fuck’s wrong with you? I’ve been looking at you all morning and you look like someone ran over your cat. And since you don't have a cat...”

  I take the folded piece of paper out of my pocket and explain the accidental book swap with Ayla.

  Tuna opens the now frayed piece of paper: I’ve been looking at it constantly, trying to find something. Anything that would tell me that Ayla didn't write it.

  Tuna reads it quietly for a moment and then he throws the list back at me and he doesn't even look pissed.

  “She ain't written that shit!”

  A glimmer of hope flickers in my chest but I need to be sure: I let Ayla into my heart, I fell for her and I can't hurt the way I've been...

  “It's her hand writing.”

  I protest but Tuna shrugs.

  “That doesn't mean anything! Remember how good I was at forging your Mom’s signature? I know Ayla can't have written that list.”

  “How?”

  “First off, the information on it is wrong. My cock isn't the smallest...”

  Both he and Alex laugh.

  “Yeah, yeah. I think we established that when we were twelve and we decided to measure our dicks. You guys are a tie more or less.”

  He keeps laughing.

  “Yup! And you might be longer but we both win in the girth department.”

  “Will you get to the fucking point? Why are you so sure that Ayla hasn't written that list?”

  Tuna’s smile widens.

  “Because she hasn't seen my cock. So she can't know if it's smaller.”

  Hope blooms in my chest so quickly that it's almost painful.

  “So she hasn't—”

  “Look dude, it's complicated. When we study we're alone in my room and at first, I was fucking sure that I was gonna win the bet. And then, the more I saw h
ow sweet she is, how patient when I get something wrong, how much she cares... I felt like a real piece of shit for what I was doing to her. And sure, when she said that she'd never have kissed me without Alex's and your agreement, it hurt like hell. But maybe I overreacted and I know that Ayla cares about me. So, I held back. We make out, I make her come and... I always have an excuse as to why our clothes should stay on. It's killing me and she must probably think that I’m a weirdo.”

  Relief floods me so suddenly that if I weren’t sitting down, I’d probably pass out.

  “So, can we quit the bet?”

  I ask.

  “Yes!”

  Alex agrees immediately but Tuna shakes his dark blonde head.

  “I wanna quit. But if we do, Michelle will—”

  Alex reassures him by wrapping an arm around his shoulders.

  “Don't worry, bro. We’ll pretend to be still playing. I have a plan. First of all, we’ll get new phones that we’ll keep secret. We’ll give Ayla one too and it won't be hard to explain it to her that we need more privacy after what happened today at school and after the incident with those weird texts. Trust me?”

  16.

  Ghosts Of Wednesdays Past

  TUNA: THIRTY FIVE POINTS

  Alex: twenty five points (but really forty five)

  Sam: twenty five points (but really forty six)

  EM: zero points

  Ayla

  JENNA AND CHAR PICK me up to go to school the day before the Thanksgiving break starts.

  Tuna texted me last night that he couldn't pick me up like he usually does and I have to admit that even though I love spending time with the girls, I miss my morning kisses and Tuna’s quiet and yet sexy presence.

  My girlfriends have been my rock since the whole video incident, especially since the principal cancelled the dance.

  The justification was that if we can't be mature enough to handle some friendly competition, we don't deserve a dance.

  Obviously, the guys and I think that Michelle is behind it all.

  And while I was really looking forward to going to the dance with my three handsome men, the satisfaction of watching Michelle seethe about causing the cancellation when she was dying to be crowned Homecoming Queen is priceless.

  Today everybody seems excited about the break and even the teachers seem to want to turn a blind eye to the constant chatter and just give us some homework for the holiday and let us be.

  However, I can't concentrate for a different reason: our first period is home room and the A-Team is absent in its entirety.

  I have the new phone the guys got me: it's a private phone for only the four of us, as they suspected Michelle of hacking into all of our phones from the very beginning.

  I send a group text asking where are they at but by third period, not only they aren't in school but I don't get any reply and my text shows only as delivered and not read.

  I tell Jenna and Char about my worries during PE and the girls look uncomfortable, as if there was some huge secret.

  After a lot of pleading from me, Jenna fesses up:

  “Look Ayla, no one knows exactly why but for the last two years on the twenty fourth of November, the guys went completely off the grid. They didn't show up to school, not answered their phone, not posted anything on social media.

  Basically ghosting the whole world. The day after they reappeared looking a little rough and very tight lipped about where they went.”

  Char adds:

  “There are all sorts of rumours: the most harmless is that they go to a yoga retreat, the worst is that they go to a crazy secret party with a full on orgy and escorts.”

  “Yeah. But no one really knows where they go and what they do. And Alex made it perfectly clear the first year that if anyone even asks, he’ll make sure that they get the same treatment that Tuna’s ex-girlfriend got when she tried to cheat. Not even Michelle knows despite the fact that she was dating Sam last year and the one before. Whatever the boys did, she wasn't included.”

  My worry increases when I hear that not even Michelle knows what's going on and I don't believe the orgy rumour.

  “Girls, I’m going to see them. If anyone asks where I’m at, tell them I got my period, felt sick and went home.”

  The girls try to stop me but I decide to go to Tuna’s house by bus, since he's the one closest to the school.

  I’m really nervous to do this, because obviously the guys don't wanna be reached but I’m too worried not to check on them.

  Alex's and Sam’s houses are surrounded by tall iron wrought gates while Tuna’s isn't: the property is just as big, but oddly the fence and the gate are at waist level.

  And things look different than usual straight away: I’ve been here several times for our tutoring sessions and normally there's gardeners, maintenance people and generally house staff wandering outside the mansion but not today.

  Today everything is quiet and deserted.

  Sure, it might be that their thanksgiving break started early but somehow, I doubt it.

  Tuna’s car is in the huge driveway though, so unless one of the others picked him up to go somewhere, he must be home.

  My hunch is confirmed when I ring the doorbell and no one comes to answer it.

  I try one more time and when I still get no answer, I turn around to the pool area which is as deserted as the rest of the property.

  Is it possible that Tuna isn't home?

  I walk up to one of the full length patio doors that looks into the TV room and I spot Tuna sitting on one of the black leather couches but I can see clearly that the TV isn't on.

  I knock on the window and when he turns, I notice straight away that his eyes are red, as if he's been crying.

  He walks slowly to the patio door and unlocks it, looking at me for a long moment.

  He’s wearing only a pair of grey sweat pants that hang low on his slim but muscular hips, showing the beginning of that sexy V shape lower abs muscles that all the hottest actors and models seem to sport.

  But my attention is fixed on his hazel eyes that look shadowed by pain.

  “Tuna, babe, are you all right? I’m so sorry to intrude like this but you and the others weren't at school and when you didn't text me back...”

  His voice is low, almost angry but mostly sad and he sounds tired.

  “No, I’m not all right. Didn't people tell you that—”

  “That every year on this day you three disappear? Yes, they did tell me. But that didn't make me less worried. I just wanted to see you, to check on you. I’m sorry. If you don't want me here, I’ll go.”

  I know that I’m rambling but his pained expression does nothing to ease my worry.

  Tuna shrugs.

  “It’s not that I don't want you here... I probably don't deserve you here and I don't think that I’m gonna be good company for anyone.”

  I take one step forward.

  “I don't care. Whatever it is that’s wrong, I can stay with you. I don't care if you don't wanna talk. You don't have to. I can sit next to you and hold your hand if you let me. Or just sit next to you.”

  Tuna steps aside to let me in the room and then slides the patio door closed behind me.

  Tuna

  WHEN I OPEN THE PATIO door, she's here: beautiful, still in her school uniform, her green eyes darkened with worry.

  Last night, when I texted her that I wouldn't be able to drive her to school, I thought that I didn't wanna see anybody today.

  For the last two years I didn't wanna see anybody on this day.

  But her?

  I was wrong: I need her by my side and I'm grateful that somehow she knew and she found me.

  My hand is closed around hers and I guide her up the stairs and into my room: I know that I’m alone today but if I’m gonna tell her everything, I need to show her all my keepsakes, all the things that I hide in my room and I only allow myself to look at once a year, on this day.

  She doesn't say anything and she follows me to the
couch in my study area.

  We sit down and I don't take my eyes off of her: she keeps me sane and anchored and she reminds me that I’m alive.

  For the first time in three years, I’m glad that I’m alive and it's all because she's here.

  “Are Alex and Sam all right?”

  She asks with a small voice, trying to be inconspicuous, probably worried about my reaction because she asked about the others when I’m clearly upset.

  But I answer honestly:

  “Probably not. But they'll be here later on. That's how we do it: we grieve alone in the morning and then together at night, until the sun comes up.”

  “Grieve?”

  She doesn't understand, so I explain.

  “Today is the anniversary of Polly’s death.”

  “Your sister?”

  “My twin sister.”

  Her grip on my hand tightens and I drag her closer to me, hugging her to my body.

  I didn't think that I could ever find anything that was gonna offer me solace but I was wrong: having Ayla by my side is what I needed.

  So I tell her that she died three years ago on this day during the Thanksgiving break on freshman year.

  I open a wooden box with the stuff I look at only on this day: the stubs of the boarding passes for our flights to Polly's last vacation, the pendant that Alex had gotten her that year on her birthday and that was still on her body. Tons of photos we took during her final days in Mexico.

  “Our parents had some big yacht event, like a competition for the biggest and most luxurious yacht and went to the Cayman Islands. Sam’s parents had some huge movie premiere in London but we didn't go because Alex's Mom got out of rehab a week before Thanksgiving. It looked like this time she was really sober, for good. So much so that Mr. Richmond cut short his business trip and Abi, Alex’s little sister, was flown in early from boarding school. So we were supposed to spend Thanksgiving Day with the Richmonds and Alex was so excited, because it was the first time he spent a holiday with his Mom since he was three. It was the four of us as usual: Alex, Sam, Polly and I.”

  I’ve never told this story to anyone, not after having to tell the police and my parents.