All the Little Lies: A High School Bully Romance

by S. J. Sylvis

  The bus lurched to a stop on the corner of the street where English Prep, in all its mass glory, laid. The stone building was built in the early 1800’s, which explained its cobblestone entryway and dramatic medieval archways. It started off as a mansion, owned by a very wealthy businessman named Edward Brown, and then later transformed into a preparatory school founded by Edward’s heirs.

  It was a beautiful building. Just by looking at it, I could taste the freedom the education would allow me. Graduating from a school like English Prep, along with my SAT scores, could grant me a seat at an Ivy League school with a scholarship. This year was all that stood between me, a former rich girl turned foster kid, and a ticket out of this hellhole. This place could give me the wings I needed to fly far, far away from the reminders that tainted my life.

  I just had to get past the haters.

  Piper stepped in line with me as we began walking over the threshold of regular asphalt to cobblestone. The iron gates were wide open and welcoming. “I wish you would let me pick you up in the mornings.”

  I turned and looked at her bright face, free of any makeup, like mine. Except, her face was free of bruises—unlike mine. The memory of how I got them started to creep in, my stomach lurching to a halt, but I shoved them clear away. No.

  A small, raspy cough came out of my mouth. “I appreciate it.” I looked away. “But it’s a long drive, and I wouldn’t feel right having you pick me up without giving you gas money, and I don’t have any money.” At all.

  “I don’t need gas money. My parents pay for my gas, so it’s not even like it’s a big deal. I know they don’t know you, but if they saw where you lived and how you had to take a city bus to school, they’d be happy to help.”

  I shook my head as we reached the doors. I quickly scanned the faces of students, but thankfully, I didn’t see anyone who wished I was dead on the spot. “It’s not so bad.” I shrugged, holding onto the straps of my worn backpack. This backpack had been with me since the very beginning. It was one of the only things I took when CPS showed up. I remember my mom looking at it on my back as I walked out of the trailer. My dad had given it to me on the first day of middle school. It was expensive and had my name stitched on the front. I assumed she’d tell me to leave it so she could sell it, but then she realized my name was on the front, and how many Hayley’s did she know? Her shoulders sagged when she made the connection. Then, her back was turned on me and that was that. If I truly thought about that moment, it stung. My mother had never been the super loving and caring type, but after my father died, it was like I never even existed.

  Piper stood beside me as I began rummaging through my locker, trying to remember which class I had first. The course load was way more than Oakland High, but considering Jill and Pete weren’t really the “Let's have a family game night!” type of foster parents, I had plenty of free time to get everything done after eating the cardboard dinner. “It is a big deal, Hayley.”

  I paused and peeked at her through my dark hair. “Why do you care so much? You just met me. I have bruises and a cut on my face, which I know bother you, because you stare at them. I’m definitely an outcast at this school, and being friends with me is quite possibly a very stupid idea. So why?”

  My words were harsh, and I didn’t mean for them to be. I just didn’t know how to do this. How to be friends. Real friends. Not the you're-a-foster-kid-and-so-am-I type of friend. Piper was the kind of girl who wanted to have sleepovers and paint each other’s nails. I didn’t know how to act. I didn’t know how to feel about it.

  That’s a lie. You feel happy. You’re just afraid to feel happy.

  Piper stuttered, “I—I, well, to be honest, you looked like you needed a friend, and most of the girls here are catty and up Madeline’s bleached asshole or in a serious relationship with their boyfriend, which leaves no room for a friend. My best friend moved a year ago, shortly after I started to attend English Prep, and I’ve been kind of lost since.”

  That sucked. I knew how it felt to lose a best friend. Just as the thought entered my head, his face appeared down the hall. Christian’s beautifully, devastatingly chiseled face. It was like a sucker-punch. I quickly averted my eyes back to Piper so I wouldn’t risk meeting another one of his scowls.

  “I’m sorry,” I breathed out. I shut my locker, holding onto my English book. “I just…” I looked down at my ratty Converse (which looked ridiculous paired with my school uniform). “I haven't had a real friend in a long time. Everyone and everything eventually gets taken from me, so it’s hard for me to get attached. But you’re right.” I stared at her jade eyes. “I do need a friend.”

  She smiled. “Then you’ve got one.”

  A real, genuine smile had my cheeks rising as she locked her arm with mine. Before we parted ways to our different classes, she gave me a sideways glance. “But truthfully? Your bruises don’t bother me; I’m just curious.”

  I swallowed, and it felt like knives lodged in my throat. “Let’s just say…someone tried to take something that wasn’t theirs, and I retaliated.”

  Piper’s head twitched a fraction as we stood a few feet from the wooden door to English class. “Like what, money or something?”

  I looked her dead in the eye. “No.”

  Her eyes showed pure innocence for a moment, as if she couldn’t even conjure up the idea of what else someone could take from me. But then it clicked, and her light eyes grew dark. “Oh.”

  I smirked. “Don’t worry. He looks a lot worse than I do.” Thank God his parents dropped the charges.

  She nodded sternly, as if she was proud. And then we went in opposite directions. I took a deep breath before entering the classroom. My eyes were staying trained to the front of the class and my book at all times. Christian was in this class and my poly sci class. And Madeline was in my world language class (I absolutely made it a pact to learn how to disrespect her in Mandarin) and PE. If I could get through those few classes without Christian knotting his face into a scowl and Madeline keeping her insults to a minimum, I might actually have a chance at this school.

  Hope filled my chest at the thought. My limbs grew tingly, and a smile was dancing on my lips.

  And then I made the mistake of peering to my right. Christian had sat down, his pale, smooth skin turning splotchy with red, his jaw set in a firm line, his hand clenching his pencil so tightly it snapped.

  I swallowed my thick spit and turned to face the blackboard. My heart sped up, and I tried for the life of me to rack my brain further into the past to dig up my last encounter with Christian, but I had a hard time finding that memory.

  Too much had happened.

  Too much that I couldn’t think about.

  Too much that I wouldn’t think about.

  Christian could keep glaring at me like I’d committed some insane crime toward him. Nothing, not even Christian, could get me to unlock the past.

  Absolutely not.

  Chapter Five

  Christian

  I stared at Hayley from across the lunchroom. She was sitting with some girl I’d never even seen before. The two of them huddled together, whispering back and forth. Her dark hair framed her smooth, pale face, and in contrast, those bruises stuck out like a red flag: trouble. She was trouble.

  The bruises interested me, but not because I felt bad for her or felt the need to snap someone in half for putting them there. I just wanted to know who else Hayley had a vendetta with.

  “I need you,” I bent down and grumbled in my brother’s ear. “Bring Eric and Jake, too.”

  I didn’t wait for a response. I knew he’d follow through. I stood up, scooting my chair back, and walked slowly through the cafeteria. My peers stopped talking and taking bites of their lunches when I passed their tables, as if they thought I was going to sit down and have a conversation with them. Or maybe they were afraid I’d take their tray and dump it all over their pristine uniform like I’d told Madeline to do to Hayley yesterday.

  Madeline was a
vindictive girl. I knew she’d jump at the chance to embarrass Hayley. It was just too easy, if I was being honest.

  I didn’t bother to give Hayley a glance as I passed by her table, but I did notice that she didn’t stop talking like the rest of the cafeteria did. It was as if she didn’t even notice me passing, which was complete bullshit. She could feel my presence from across the lunchroom, just like me with her. She was just making it a point not to notice me.

  “Where we going?” Ollie asked, catching up to me. My father had left early yesterday evening, which wasn’t a surprise, but that meant I had to drag Ollie's ass out of bed ten minutes before we had to leave this morning. Pissed me off.

  “There’s something I need to do.”

  We continued down the hallway, Ollie beside me, and Jake and Eric trailing. They were talking about the game this weekend as we stopped in front of the office.

  “Jake,” I barked. “I need you to punch Eric in the face. I need a diversion to get into Headmaster Walton’s office.”

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Ollie interjected, getting in my face. “What the fuck? We have a game Friday. They can’t fight! They’ll be benched.”

  I shook my head. “Relax. I’ll handle it. No one is getting benched.” I glanced at Jake and Eric, who really didn’t seem to give a fuck either way—precisely why I chose them. “You punch Eric then, Eric, you punch Jake. We’ll drag you guys in there. Sit you down in front of Ms. Boyd. Ollie, you’ll work your magic with her while pretending to keep an eye on these two. I’ll go into Headmaster Walton’s office and get what I need to get.”

  “Which is?” Ollie crossed his arms over his chest, raising an eyebrow. I hated when he fucking did that. He looked just like Mom. She always raised one eyebrow at me when I was lying about something.

  I thought about not telling him and giving him a bald-faced lie, but that would mean I cared more than I did, like I was harboring a secret and being covert with my intentions regarding Hayley. That wasn’t the case. I wanted the entire school to know I hated her and had plans to break her in half.

  “I want to know why she’s here, and more importantly,”—I turned around, giving them my back as I reached for the years-old doorknob to the office— “I want to know her weaknesses.”

  “Brother,” Ollie warned from behind. “Leave the poor girl alone. Hasn’t she been through enough? I mean, did you see her face? And she’s skinny as fuck. Doesn’t look like she even eats. And that shit that went down with her dad?”

  I spun around forcefully, something clawing at me from the inside. “Why do you care?” I was seething underneath my cool composure. Ollie could probably sense it because he knew me better than anyone, but he didn’t know about this. He didn’t know that I blamed her. There was power in keeping secrets—no one could destroy you if they didn’t know how.

  He held his hands up in protest, dropping his head for a second before catching my eye. “I’m just trying to figure you out. You two used to be inseparable. I think I was even jealous of her at one point in our lives. I distinctly remember you choosing her to be on your dodgeball team in the seventh grade. That hurt, bro.” He smirked before growing serious again. “And now you hate her? So much that you had Madeline embarrass her in front of the entire school like the catty bitch that she is. You hate that type of shit. So why?”

  I strode over to him, erasing the distance between us. Jake and Eric were both staring at us indifferently, most likely wondering the same thing. My brother and I were the same height and build. Tall with a broad upper body and cut muscles from football conditioning. The only difference was my arms were bigger and his legs were faster. A battle we often tried to remedy. “None of your fucking business.”

  We stared at each other for so long that I felt my plan slipping through my fingers as the clock continued to tick. I finally shrugged him off and sent a look toward Eric. That was all it took. Eric wound back before Jake took an uppercut to the jaw.

  “You fucker,” he spat with a hit back. Ollie instantly got in between them before they got too invested and neglected that this was planned and not an actual fight. Jake’s lip was busted, blood dripping down to his chin, and Eric’s eye was forming a welt. Those are my boys.

  “Good shit. Follow my cue.” I gestured toward the door but stopped right before I opened it. I looked back at all three of them. “And stay the fuck away from Hayley.”

  Jake formed a frown, and Eric nodded. Ollie only stared at me, but I knew he’d listen. We may not have always agreed, but he wouldn’t defy me on this. Not when a girl was involved.

  Once I opened the door, the scent of old, dusty books wafted around. I crooked a smile in Ms. Boyd’s direction.

  Show time.

  It only took three compliments, a hefty dose of flirting, and a dazzling smile to get Ms. Boyd to let me in the Headmaster’s office.

  Headmaster Walton was at lunch—which I already knew—and due back within the next ten minutes, so I had to act fast. I rounded his large, mahogany desk and roamed my gaze around the stupid, ancient globe, a framed picture of him and his wife, the row of expensive pens that were in a perfect line… Bingo. A large folder sat near the edge of his desk, underneath a pile of useless papers. The name Hayley Smith was written on the tab in permanent marker.

  I took the folder and placed my ear against the door for a moment, hearing Jake and Eric arguing over their “fight”, which caused me to smirk. Damn good friends they are.

  I scanned the contents quickly, sucking in all the information I could regarding Hayley.

  Seven foster homes since seventh grade. Hmm. I thought Madeline was making that up to embellish her story…guess not. Three different high schools. Her current foster home was two towns over. Interesting. I took my phone out and snapped a picture of her address. Might come in handy one day. She was in juvie for assault before she came here, but the charges were dropped. Now that’s perplexing. My eyebrow hitched as I glanced at her school credentials: 1560 SAT score. Damn. Even though I hated her, that was a damn good score. She always was smart.

  I flipped through a few more futile pages, and my hand stilled on the last page. It was a handwritten letter from someone named Ann.

  Dear Headmaster Walton,

  My name is Ann Scova, and I am Hayley Smith’s social worker. I am writing to you personally to ask if your board would reconsider opening up one more scholarship this year. Hayley is a bright child. The brightest I have ever worked with. Her life was ripped away from her at the age of twelve, and since then, her studies have never taken a hit. Personally, I feel that she excels so well in school because it is the only thing she can control.

  Unfortunately, Hayley’s father, Jim Smith, was a very wealthy man up until the night he was murdered. He was murdered in the home that Hayley resided in, and from the bits and pieces I’ve gathered from Hayley’s past social workers, Hayley actually witnessed the murder with her own eyes, and she may have been the reason the murder took place after her call to the authorities. After Hayley’s father passed, revealing the serious and illegal crimes he was a part of, Hayley and her mother moved to a trailer park south of Pike Valley. After a short while, CPS got a call, and Hayley was taken into the state’s care immediately due to her unfortunate living conditions. But like I’ve said, although Hayley has been through troubling times and on her own in most senses, she’s never let go of her goal. She wants to graduate and go to an Ivy League college, with hopes of a scholarship. I don’t think she’ll get that going to a public school.

  Please reconsider your scholarship program. Just this once. Hayley doesn’t have many people fighting for her, and I’d love if we could do that together.

  Thank you,

  Ann Scova

  LSW

  The paper crumpled in my hand as I read the letter. If it were anyone else, I’d maybe feel bad for them. It sounded like a fucked-up life. One parent dead, the other unable to care for you. I chuckled. Sounded a little like my life. And I had Hayley to thank for that
.

  It all boiled down to one unanswered phone call. All she had to do was mutter one fucking word and things would have played out differently. She was the catalyst that caused everything in my life to change.

  I carried around a hatred for her that was so heavy it felt like chains were tied to my ankles. And the hatred I carried for myself was almost just as heavy. It was what kept me from untying those chains in the first place. If I untied those chains, I’d be met with guilt, and I much preferred the former.

  I shut Hayley’s folder and shoved it back onto Headmaster Walton’s desk as I heard his gruff voice outside the door. I made myself comfortable in the leather chair perched in front of his desk, ready to put on the charade to “punish” Eric and Jake on my own, considering I was the football captain. While I waited, I tried pushing away the swirling thoughts of Hayley.

  Remember, Mom died because of the spiral you and Hayley created. Hayley may not have known it yet, but she wasn’t just responsible for her father's death, but my mother’s, too.

  Chapter Six

  Hayley

  The next few days passed by, and to my surprise, everyone was quiet. Christian didn’t do anything out of the ordinary—so, nothing more than some glowering in my direction. Madeline turned her nose up at me and snickered at my too-big uniform after gym class, which ended with a rude remark, but so far, there had been no casualties.