“Just wanted to check on you,” Brenda says. I almost forget I’m on the phone with her, my eyes wandering across the front of the building, all the way into the attached parking lot. “How are you feeling?”
“As good as I can,” I reply. “Just one year, and then I’m off to college.”
“Ugh, your mom’s gonna cry…”
“Like I give a crap. I mean, she didn’t notice my tears when she moved me all the way here, in Douchebag-Central.”
I can almost see Brenda nodding slowly. “Yeah, she could’ve kept you here for another year at least. But it’s done now, Elly… You know, you can’t change it. You can only keep going. Forward, ever forward.”
“Stop quoting Coach Lee and get your ass in school!” I laugh.
“I’ll talk to you later, babe. Remember, if Trinity’s too crummy or sleazy for you, carry a billiard ball in a sock with you, at all times,” Brenda says, then hangs up.
I can’t help but smile. Two minutes with her on the phone, and I’m already feeling better. She’s right, though. I can’t change what happened. My parents’ marriage didn’t work out. They didn’t think about me when they reached their decision, so… here I am, starting over in a new town, where I don’t know anyone. It sucks, but I’ve got a feeling life is going to be a lot like this. Lots of curve balls headed toward me. I just can’t see them yet.
My attention is drawn away from my problems by roaring laughter. I find its source, legs hanging out the back of a Range Rover in the parking lot. That voice sounds familiar. It causes a painful pang in my chest, like a rubber band suddenly snapping.
“Pass me the bottle, Rhett!” he says, as authoritarian as ever.
Oh, dear…
It’s them. The Hotshots. I call them The Hotshots because there really isn’t a better word for them. I used to joke about them being joined at the hip, back in summer camp. Kellan and Rhett Flanagan, the troublemaking brothers - fraternal twins whose only similarity is how damn irresistibly hot they both are. And Gage O’Donnell, their best friend. We went to the same place this summer—a sprawling complex about fifty miles from both Trinity and my hometown, up north. Several high schools organize these trips every year. I met The Hotshots there, back in late June. They didn’t tell me they were enrolled at Trinity High.
Then again, we didn’t talk about school much.
My heart starts pumping a little faster. I catch a glimpse of Rhett as he twists himself from the passenger seat to hand a bottle to Kellan. They’re drinking. Gage is behind the wheel, the engine turned off. A cigarette hangs loosely from between his lips. I thought he’d quit. This feels off, somehow.
Girls are buzzing around the Range Rover, laughing and touching Rhett through the open window. They want him. It’s not hard to see why. He’s the heartbreaker out of The Hotshots. Tall, dark and handsome. His hair is black and messy, with the occasional curls streaking across his forehead. His eyes are emerald knives that cut through everything they see. His lips… well, they’re the epitome of wet, delicious softness. The girls like him because he towers over most of the guys his age. Those broad shoulders get me tingly.
“You’ve had enough,” Rhett says to Kellan, his hand out, asking for the bottle back. I recognize the amber liquid dancing inside as it reaches Rhett again. Whiskey. Probably a single malt. Their good tastes extend beyond summer camp, apparently.
Gage grins and snatches the bottle, taking a swig before Rhett grabs it, cursing under his breath.
“I’m not technically driving right now!” Gage replies.
Looking at them now, I realize how different they are from one another, yet how much alike. Kellan is the bulky brother, with a solid muscle mass. He’s not a thick-neck type, but he looks like he could lift that Range Rover from the back on a dare. But what really draws me to him is his personality. He’s all sweet and mushy on the inside. The memory of us in the woods springs to mind, and I know I’m going to get all wet in a second. He was my first. To this date, my only, as well, and I’ve not heard from him in two whole weeks.
It should offend me. But then I see Gage again, and that broad, boyish smile of his, and I almost forget that neither of them had said a word since we left summer camp. It’s not like we weren’t friends. They promised we’d be in touch. Even so, I’m relieved to see them here. They’re a pleasant surprise. A sight for sore eyes, even.
It’s been a rough couple of weeks. The moving, the divorce… it all happened so quickly. I need to tell them about it. There’s still some whiskey left in that bottle. Maybe I can skip my first class and start out with a bang.
My instinct tells me to go inside, but my legs won’t listen. My knees are weak, but the rest of my body still works as it carries me across the mowed lawn and into the parking lot. The smell of freshly cut grass fills my nostrils, mingled with cigarette smoke and alcohol vapors. It reminds me of summer camp and how close the four of us were. There was a connection between us—not just physical, we all knew it.
Mom used to tell me that there’s a name for girls who mess around with more than just the one guy, but I still can’t accept that premise. Things were different with Kellan, Rhett, and Gage. It took me a while to find the right word for it… synergy. As I walk over to them, I can almost feel it. The butterflies wrestling in the pit of my stomach. My breath cut short. My skin tingling all over. What we had was unique.
So, why haven’t they reached out, like they said they would? Maybe I’ll find out now. My instinct is practically screaming at me to turn left and head inside. Run really damn far away. But I can’t help myself. I’m drawn to them, in an inexplicable manner. Like a moth to a flame. Nothing good ever happens to the moth. Maybe remembering that is worth something. But forgetting it is so damn easy right now.
The girls are the ones to see me first. They look like sophomores, their faces padded with a smidge too much make-up. They instantly recognize me as some type of enemy, because their eyes turn into slits and their smiles to scowls.
“Who’s she?” the blonde asks, flipping her long, bleached hair over her shoulder.
Rhett follows her gaze, slowly, carefully, then freezes upon seeing me. His expression… darkens, and I’m suddenly gripped by what feels a lot like ice-cold fear. I can feel its frosted fingers clutching my throat, thrilled to choke me to death. But still, I don’t stop. I keep walking until I reach the Range Rover. By then, Kellan and Gage notice me, as well.
None of them look happy to see me.
What in the world is going on?
“No one,” Rhett says, then chugs a mouthful of whiskey. He pushes the bottle into the blonde’s small hands and opens the car door. The brunette moves back, almost excited by what she thinks is going to happen next—I’m not sure what that is, but, judging by the look on her face, it can’t be anything good.
“Long time no see,” I breathe, my voice gone, hidden somewhere far. Somewhere where I can’t find it. I keep talking, because Rhett is headed toward me, and he doesn’t look like the guy whose shoulder I cried on, back in summer camp. He looks more like the reason I’d need a shoulder to cry on, in the first place. “I didn’t know you guys were in Trinity, too! I mean, I just got transferred here. My parents sprung the divorce on me right after I got back from camp and…”
I lose my words, too, because he stops in front of me, much taller than I remember. Gage is out of the car now, eyeing me like I’m a bug he needs to squish with the heel of his boot. Kellan is the last one to leave the Range Rover. He grabs the whiskey bottle back from the blonde and raises his eyebrow at me. Suddenly, I’m small and defenseless, unable to move or speak. What the hell is happening?
“What the fuck are you doing here?” Rhett grunts out, his voice cold, cutting through me like an axe. I swallow back a knot, my palm sweaty and slipping from my backpack’s shoulder strap.
“I… I got transferred. What’s up with the—”
He grabs my backpack and pulls it wide open, with no regard for the zipper’s dwindling int
egrity. I’m stunned. Lots of questions, no answers, just dread piling up inside me, my instinct kicking and punching and desperately pointing at the door. Even now, I can’t move.
The girls are smiling. Oh, they’re enjoying this. Gage looks bored, checking his phone. Kellan hooks an arm around the blonde, pursing his lips as he gives me a disgusted sneer. I don’t recognize him anymore. Rhett starts digging through my bag.
“What are you…” My voice trails off.
I’m astonished by my own inability to react. It feels like I’m tied to the front of a runaway train, and we’re headed straight for a massive brick wall. I think I’m going to crash into it, and there’s no one out here to save me.
Rhett finds my tampons on the bottom, and he takes one out. My face is burning. If shame could kill, I’d be writhing and foaming at the mouth right now, giving my last breath. I hear laughter. The beauty queens from earlier are back outside, along with a dozen more seniors. It’s a “Holy shit!” moment, and I can’t even move a muscle to stop it from unfolding.
“Rhett, stop,” I whisper. “What are you doing?”
He flicks the tampon toward me. It hits my shoulder, then falls on the gravel, mute and as ashamed as I am. Rhett chuckles, picking out another one from the box. The blonde and the brunette are stifling their scratchy chortles. Gage smiles. Kellan glances to the side, noticing the beauty queens and giving them a nod of acknowledgment. This is amusing to them. My humiliation is today’s highlight, it seems, and I can’t bring myself to fucking stop this.
“Open wide,” Rhett says, and flicks another tampon at me. It hits me in the face. It doesn’t hurt. The gesture, however, opens a gaping wound inside me, and I’m transfixed. Is this really happening? Should I pinch myself out of what is clearly a horrible nightmare?
“What the shit, Rhett?!” I finally blurt out, surprised by my own tone. Where’d that come from? I need more! I need a friggin’ flamethrower to turn them all to ashes.
He’s relentless. Without a single emotion flickering across his sharp features, he turns my backpack upside down. Books, pens and notebooks fall out, making a mess at my feet. The sounds they make upon impact drill holes into my very soul. But it’s not enough. No, Rhett’s not done yet. He shoves the empty backpack into my chest with such strength that I’m pushed back a couple of feet.
The rest of my tampons are out on display for everyone to see. I’m speechless. Hurt. Their laughter stabs my eardrums, like forks on a blackboard. Rhett moves like a shadow. I don’t even notice it until he stands so close, that there’s hardly a breath of space between us.
“Run, Elly. Run fast and run far,” he says, anger burning in his emerald green eyes.
He walks away, motioning for Kellan and Gage to follow him. The girls go after them like overexcited Pomeranians - beauty queens beaming at their gladiators, fresh out of the arena, victorious in battle. The others are still laughing, trading murmurs and whispers about me. Some are brazen enough to point fingers in my direction.
I can still smell the whisky from Rhett. It lingered on his lips and tongue, the same lips and tongue he used to tell me off. The same lips and tongue that had told me I was different from all the girls he’d ever met, just a month ago.
My body is shaking, my limbs weak and gooey. But at least they’re gone. I’m left on my own in the parking lot, in front of the Range Rover, my stuff all over the ground. My tampons are glaring back at me. It’s not like I can hold it in… Why should I be ashamed? Why am I ashamed?
One thing is clear, though. As they all go in, and the first bell rings, I realize the hard, unpalatable truth. People are incredibly different, depending on their habitat. I met a big, sweet Kellan. We made love. A tall and charming Rhett. We talked for hours on end. A comforting and funny Gage. We quit smoking together, and we kicked ass in the canoe races across the lake. These versions I’ve just met are not The Hotshots I know. No. They’re assholes. Heartless bastards who get off on bullying me in the parking lot, on my very first day at this piece of shit school.
I should’ve listened to my instinct. I should’ve found the strength to walk away from them, not toward them. Only one question remains, now, and it’s not in my nature to leave it unanswered. What happened since summer camp? What made them turn against me like this?
What the hell did I ever do to them?
And how sweet will revenge taste?
CONTINUE READING
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READ TRINITY HIGH
Dark.
Brooding.
Imperfectly Perfect.
The boys of Trinity High are everything a girl wants.
Everything she fears.
Everything she should never dare to love.
But sometimes, it's the stupidest mistakes that lead to the most beautiful tales.
Maybe they'll break her.
Maybe they'll break too.
Once an enemy. Twice a lover. Whose heart is stronger?
DOWNLOAD LESS THAN PERFECT
This little piggy is my target.
This little piggy I shall break.
This little piggy will forgive me.
This little piggy's heart's at stake.
Momma had a mantra; “Ignore the bullies and they’ll go away, poof, like magic.”
When I was still naïve enough to believe her, this suggestion had made perfect sense. Only for some reason, it never worked for me. At first, I thought that I wasn’t ignoring hard enough.
Then, I realized that magic only works when you’re pretty.
This world wasn’t kind to little pigs.
We don’t live long.
Sooner or later, someone always came along to blow our worlds down around us.
If I wanted to survive, if I wanted boys like Marcus to leave me alone, I’d have to become something different.
Something new.
Something better.
I’d have to grow teeth and claws.
I’d have to be willing to bite back. To kill the piglet and transform myself into a big, bad, wolf.
And so I did.
I wasn't a child anymore. I was a woman with a past that no longer had the right to haunt me. A woman who wanted love and wouldn't shy away from the unconventional in order to claim it.
The plan was simple. Marry a man I didn't know. Fall in love with love and life. And never, ever, ever, look back. The problem? My past chose to push its way into my future. No matter how big I felt, no matter how much I'd grown, seeing him again made me feel like nothing more than the little piglet, ready for the roast.
Less than perfect is a duology with a strong female lead, a bully, and a fake fiancé.
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Love.
Lies.
Murder.
There are so many more secrets to be uncovered. Pasts that will never be forgotten. Loves that will never be lost.
Cornelia thinks she knows me. She's wrong about that. Just as wrong as she is about knowing herself.
Sure, Maddox might walk like Prince Charming. He might even talk like him too. But we have something they will never have.
A past.
And where there's a past, there will also be a future.
A bully romance that will keep you on your toes. Featuring scenes from high school as well as scenes where our protagonists are older and more mature.
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Vile Intentions: A Dark Sports Bully Romance Page 31