Hannaford Prep: The Complete Series

by J Bree

  “Enjoying the eye fuck?” he drawls. Oh, no. That self-flagellating tone will just not do. I need to take him down a notch.

  “I’m assessing your weak spots, so I’m confident in my aim when I have to take you out.” He doesn’t back down. If anything, my words egg him on. His smirk turns into an entirely too-confident flirty grin. I haven’t been this close to swooning since Blaise’s appearance at the school. This guy is devil spawn.

  “Sure, you are, Mounty. And will you be aiming for my eyes, then?”

  I nod and attempt a glare. “Blinding you gives me a much better chance at survival. You’re twice the size of me, so unless you’re well trained at fighting in the dark, that should even the playing field nicely.”

  He chuckles and lets his eyes roam over my chest and down my legs. I hate people looking at my legs. The scars may have faded a little but they’re still plain to see. I can’t wait until I’m a junior and I can wear thigh-high socks. Cute, and a satisfactory cover up. His gaze is heated, I think he’s flirting with me, but with no prior experience I don’t want to jump to conclusions. I might be mistaking things because of how badly I want Ash. He’s such an asshole but, fuck, I’m attracted to him.

  “Don’t sleep with any of the boys.” I look up to see Ash looking at me with such intensity, my knees think about shaking.

  “What the fuck?!” I splutter out, more at my reaction than his words.

  “I know it probably goes against your Mounty nature, but you’ll just dig a bigger hole for yourself if you fuck any of them.” How do I find him so attractive when he’s such a dick to me?

  “My Mounty nature? I’m not some sexual fucking deviant! Why is every boy in this damn school so far up their own asses?”

  He smirks at me and shrugs. I don't know what to do with him or how to reply, so I drop my eyes back to the assignment in front of me and get back to marking it. It’s all correct, because of course it is, he’s fucking with me by being here.

  “Joey has decided he's going to fuck you. That's why he started the bet in the first place. He likes to prove how powerful he is. Every year he picks some big, elaborate goal, and then we all get to sit back and watch while he crushes, breaks, and mutilates everyone around him to achieve it. This year it’s you.” I think I've stopped breathing. This should be over. He can't possibly be saying I'm still going to be a target for Joey to rape. “If you fuck any other guy, Joey will probably kill you both.”

  It's become so commonplace to use the word ‘kill’ flippantly. They'd kill for those shoes, they'd kill you if you tell on them, they'd love nothing more than to kill that person. Ash isn't saying the word kill like that. He's saying it like he's seen his brother choke the life out of another human being. I give him a curt nod. It's not like I had any plans to date at this place. I'd always planned on waiting until college to lose my cherry, so what difference did it make if Joey had a say in it too?

  A fucking big difference.

  Now I wanted to fuck half the school just to spite him. Well, not really. I wanted him to think I had, because I didn't want my celibacy to look like I was bowing to him and his whims.

  “What do your parents think of Joey and his actions?”

  It's the wrong thing to say. I watch as Ash’s face sets and a thunderous look rolls in. I shouldn't have asked. The gossip mill here at Hannaford is active enough that I could have just asked around instead. I was bolstered by his kindness in warning me, and I forgot myself. I forgot for a second that, to this man, I will always be trash.

  “How about I'll answer that when you answer something for me. Did it hurt? When you found your mom, did it cripple you, even though you always knew it was going to end that way?”

  My chest collapses in on itself like a vice is squeezing the life out of me. I should know by now that Ash always goes for the low blow in a fight. It did cripple me, but I’m not that girl anymore. I think about my life as the me before, the one who had to fight for food but had a mom, and there’s the me now. I don’t have to fight for food anymore, and I have a safe place to sleep every night. I’m at the best school in the country. I already have the attention of several of the top colleges in the state, and I have plans to start reaching out to others further away from home. I did a lot of bad things to get to where I am today, my hands are filthy with it. I don’t feel any better now than I did before.

  I am truly alone.

  “One of these days, I am going to show this school what it takes to survive at Mounts Bay High and foster care.” My voice shakes, and he smirks at me.

  “I’ll take that as a yes.”

  He turns his attention back to his homework, and I grit my teeth. Why, oh why, did I have to do this for extra credits? I finish my page of sums in seconds, my affinity with numbers making this all child’s play, and then I crack open the required reading for my literature class while I wait for him to catch up.

  “Hey, man! Just in time, as per usual,” Ash calls out, and I cringe. I know what that sarcastic tone of voice means. My other student has arrived.

  Blaise looks like he would rather be anywhere but here. I’ve lost the fire within me that had enabled me to speak to him callously, so I stare at his ear lobe again and wait for him to sit down.

  “I need help with my Lit assignment, and no one else has been able to help me like you did with the math shit. Can you please help me?” he grinds out from between his clenched teeth, like the words are hurting him. Ash watches us both with raised eyebrows and a half smile.

  “Sure. Sit down and show me what you need.” The cool tone replaces the snarky one I was using, and he gets even more curious.

  “What the fuck went down with you two?”

  Blaise ignores him, slumping in his chair, and I consider doing the same. Ash throws a pen at me, and I sigh. “I informed Blaise that I burned my Vanth shirt because I don’t listen to music written and performed by assholes, and he ran off to tattle to the spawn-of-Satan you shared a womb with, and she destroyed my room to avenge his hurt feelings.”

  “I didn’t fucking tattle! She asked me why I was pissy, and I answered,” Blaise hisses back at me. Ash’s mouth drops open as he watches us.

  I snort. “So, you’re put out that I don’t fucking worship you like you think you deserve, and in return I lose every single thing I own at the hands of Avery’s minions? Fair trade. Fair fucking trade.”

  Ash leans back in his chair, the glee at our spat shining in his icy eyes. “Everything you own is here at Hannaford?”

  “I’m emancipated. Of course it is. No, was. I have nothing now, until the summer break when I can go back to Mounts Bay. Happy now, Morrison? Got your revenge? Great. Show me your assignment and let me fix it so you can tell your billionaire daddy how fucking great you’re doing at this hellhole.”

  Blaise is gaping at me like I’ve just kicked him in the balls and asked for his gratitude for doing so. I raise my eyebrows at him until he hands over the assignment, and I start in on it.

  The evidence of Rory’s unfaithful ways is burning a hole in my consciousness. I want to get the shit off my phone and out of my mind as quickly as possible. Plus, I caught Avery making out with him on the couch in the girls’ dorms again. If he's cheating on her, if they're not in some weird polygamist relationship like the guys are, then I hate the idea of him getting away with it.

  I can't email her the video. There’re too many risks of the school administration finding out about it. I know for a fact that all our study and interactions online are monitored. Texting it to her is another option. The only way I can get Avery’s phone number is by either breaking into the administration office or asking around for it. Neither are good options.

  I end up in the library printing off copies of the photos. I feel gross even looking at them, and I’m twitchy about being caught. I did not want to explain all of this to Matteo if Mr. Trevelen catches wind of this. He'd probably insist on using the photos as blackmail against Rory and Harlow, and while I did enjoy the thought o
f them sweating it out at the hands of the Jackal, it would complicate my life.

  I don’t want to think about Matteo anymore. I’m so confused about him. His gentle tones on the phone when I called him for help made my chest ache. I used to love him. Back when I first went into foster care, he was the cool kid. Someone in my corner who loved me back. I truly thought he loved me too. Now I know that he sees me as a valuable pawn on the chessboard. Nothing more. But I still feel guilty for having certain feelings about Ash. And Blaise and, fuck, Harley. I can’t forget the feelings I have for Harley.

  I get back to my room and deliberate over my note to Avery. Fuck, I should be so happy to be able to crush her with this, but it feels so underhanded. I don't want to break her with a guy. I want to outsmart her. Outplay her. I want to survive everything she throws at me, and then dish it back twice as bad.

  I'm not Joey. I don't enjoy cutting people where it stings the most. I'm not cruel. I'm no angel, but every rotten thing I've done has been to survive. Someday I'll be able to shed all of this and just be kind.

  I slip the photos and the note under Avery's door before I head down for dinner. All the other students will be leaving for winter break in the morning, and I need her to know before she goes.

  Taken three days ago. Dump him.

  Chapter Sixteen

  The entire school is empty for winter break.

  At least that's what I think, until day three when I spot Harley sitting in the dining hall eating a massive pile of eggs by himself. He freezes when he hears the door, and then glares over at me. I pile my own plate full of pancakes, fruit, syrup, and ice cream, and then sit as far away from him as possible.

  I wasn't expecting to see anyone, so I'm wearing tiny shorts, an old, torn shirt, and thigh-high socks. I'd been sliding my way around the school and squealing like a toddler all morning. There was only a skeleton staff still at the school, so I hadn't felt any shame in doing it. I now cringe at the thought of Harley catching me.

  It was uncomfortable eating in silence, knowing he was at the other end of the table. A few times I thought I could feel his eyes on me, but when I glanced up, he was scrolling through his phone. He was probably texting the others about how ridiculous I look. I sigh into my fruit and prepare for how much shit I'll get from Avery when the break is over.

  I'm contemplating my future doom when Harley gets up and leaves the hall. As he walks past my chair, I meet his eyes and keep my face blank. He sneers down at me, and I roll my eyes.

  Stupid rich kids.

  When I'm finished, I head back to my room and start the colossal pile of homework I have. It's not the fun winter break I think the rest of Hannaford students are having. I think back to when my mom was still alive and it was Christmas time, but we never actually did anything. Too broke for presents, too sad for a tree or good food. My only really good memories from then were watching the Christmas specials on TV by myself while my mum got high and walked the streets. Fuck, if that's where my brain was going, I was going to have a miserable break.

  I have a scholarship to keep and not much else to do, so homework it is.

  The most pressing is to do my vocal work.

  I can't practice in my room when the other girls are here. I'm too nervous that they can hear me and even with my headphones on, the anxiety triggers my PTSD. I've picked my song, having ditched the Vanth Falling song for good now that I've met Blaise, and I just need to practice it enough that I can zone completely out while I perform.

  I will never admit this to another living soul, but I pick Pompeii by Bastille because of Blaise’s cover of it. It sucks that so much of my own musical story is intertwined with his because of my past obsession with him, but I need something I've sung a thousand times before to get through the assignment. No one will ever have to know it's all because of him.

  I'd rather die.

  I decide to skip lunch to keep practicing, and then finally my stomach drags me to the dining hall for dinner. The menu is very festive, and it takes me a second to realize it's Christmas Eve. I feel bad for the kitchen staff who have to be there to feed me, a scholarship student, and then I remember Harley and the giant mountain of money his family would have paid to send him here, and I feel a bit better.

  I fill my plate with such a feast I feel bad for the kids back home, and then I sit and tuck in.

  Harley is in his usual seat, so I situate myself at the other end of the table again. Not long after I sit down, I hear him get up, and to my utter shock he sits down across from me. His plate is only half-empty, and he gets back to eating as soon as he's sat down.

  “Rumor has it you're emancipated,” he says without looking up at me, so I have to do more than nod.

  My voice is barely more than a croak. “Yeah.”

  “How the fuck did you manage that?”

  I can’t figure out his angle. Is he fishing for information to use against me, or is he just curious, bored, feeling the Christmas spirit?

  “I was already in foster care and I proved I could provide for myself, so it was one less kid the state had to take care of. Took me a year, but I just kept trying.”

  He grunts and leans back in his chair to study my face. I try desperately not to flush scarlet under his gorgeous stare.

  “How the fuck can a Mounty provide for herself? You have a sugar daddy or some shit?” He doesn't speak like the other rich kids. It jars me, because he may look like the most heavenly being I've ever seen but he speaks like a roughneck kid from the streets. He sounds like me. It’s comforting, even while he’s all smirks and asshole nature.

  “I'm not selling myself to anything except my scholarship.”

  He scoffs. “That's vague.”

  “Why do you want to know? Mommy and Daddy pissing you off? Why aren't you home celebrating the holidays with them?”

  His eyes narrow to a glare, and he clenches his teeth. I could apologize or change the subject, but he started it. He looks away from me and I can see his brain at work. I give him a minute of silence before I prod him again. “I answered you honestly. Is there no honor among rich kids?”

  He gives me a dark look, and I tuck back into my dinner while I wait.

  “My dad’s dead. My mom is locked up. I'm thinking about applying for emancipation, too. My caseworker won't say a word to me about it, she just tells me it's not for me. So, I'm offering you a meal of peace for the information. I know you’re smart, you wouldn't be here if you weren't, so I'll take you at your word.”

  Huh. He was an orphan like me. So why does he treat me so badly? And why does Avery protect him so fiercely?

  “Are you on a scholarship too?”

  “Fuck no.” Like it's something to be ashamed of, like I didn't spend half my life working to be here instead of paying my way in. I give him my own dark look, which he promptly ignores.

  “Then you must have the means to provide for yourself. It should be an easy process for you.”

  He stabs around at his plate violently. I almost feel sorry for the beans.

  “I don't have access to any of the money my dad left for me. Or… well, any of the money that’s rightfully mine. So, no, it won't be.”

  I shrug at him. “If you have an estate that pays for you, then that will count too.”

  “Don't have one of those either,” he grumbles.

  I set my fork down and fold my arms over my chest. He watches me, and then mirrors my movement. Is he fucking with me? “Who pays for your school tuition, then?”

  “Avery.”

  Holy fuck. “Is she in love with you? I see her tongue down that dickhead Rory's neck all the time, so I wouldn't have guessed it.”

  He snorts and looks at me incredulously. When I stare at him blankly, he shakes his head. “We’re cousins. Our moms were sisters. Avery takes that shit very seriously, so I'm here with her and Ash because she couldn’t bear the thought of me going to a public school back home.”

  Cousins! They look nothing alike. Harley is a golden god, and Ash
is like a dark prince, with all that dark hair and brooding. I look at him closer and think maybe around the nose there's a hint of similarity, but nothing obvious.

  “Well, fuck. I don't know how to advise you with only half your story. So, either tell me it all, or go spend weeks researching it online like I had to.”

  He looks at me again, and then sighs, rubbing his hands over his face like he wanted to scrub years off it. His biceps flex invitingly with the action and I resist the urge to reach out and squeeze them. “Fuck it. I have a large inheritance from my parents, but to get it, I'd have to fulfill certain… obligations that I refuse to do. I won't lose my soul for the money. My mom has nothing. Avery pays for all my shit. How do I get emancipated?”

  I push my tray away, the meat now cold and unappealing. Every time I’m interrupted by one of these guys, I end up missing out on good food. The kitchen staff had put out an amazing spread for only two students, and now I’m not even going to finish my plate. So damn wasteful.

  “You would have to have enough money to cover all of your expenses for the next three years in a bank account, and a plan on how you would use them. Detailed, like an itemized list, down to how much soap you use in a year. Can Avery give you that?”

  He doesn't answer, he just grits his teeth again and picks up his tray. I huff out a breath, feeling dismissed, and then he calls out to me as he leaves, “Thanks, Mounty.”

  I grab my own tray and head back up to bed.

  I don't get out until Christmas Day is over.

  Boxing Day is not a good day for me.

  I decide to go down and eat breakfast, and Harley pours me a cup of juice as he passes by my chair. I stupidly think it’s a nice gesture after how much information I gave him at our last meeting. I should know better by now.