Bitter: A Dark High School Bully Romance (Wicked Brotherhood Book 1)

by Eden Beck

  After a second, Heath enters my field of view.

  He’s hunched over and glancing around shadily. Soon, another boy joins him. I haven’t seen the second boy before, so I’m guessing he’s an upperclassman or something.

  As I watch, Heath slips some money into the stranger’s hand, and the stranger gives him something in return. I almost laugh. I’m pretty sure Heath is buying drugs directly in front of me.

  So much for being sneaky.

  The next time he wants to do a secret exchange, he should learn how to look less guilty about it.

  Even as I think it, he glances conspiratorially over his shoulder—and directly up at the window into the infirmary.

  I lay down as quickly as I can to keep myself out of sight. After waiting for a few seconds, I look again and he’s gone. The grounds are as bare as they were before. It’s like nothing even happened. I’m pretty sure he didn’t see me, but even if he did … maybe it would be a good thing if one of the boys knew I had a little dirt on him.

  Or maybe it would just make everything much, much worse.

  I debate whether or not to tell anyone about what I saw, but the minute Rafael shows up to help me carry my things back to the dorm room I can’t keep it in any longer. I have to tell someone what I saw.

  That way, at least if I disappear, then someone will know where to start.

  The story of the brief exchange I witness gushes out of me in a hurried as he walks me back up to our room. It doesn’t elicit the reaction I expected.

  Rafael falls silent until we’re actually in our dorm. As soon as we get there, he sets my backpack at the foot of my bed and walks over to his own, his hands rubbing nervously on the front of his thighs.

  “Better keep that thing about Heath to yourself,” he says finally, as I ease my way into my bed.

  I lay down and sigh.

  “Don’t worry, I’m not stupid enough to go spreading it to the entire school.”

  He makes a non-committal grunt. “Just … be careful.”

  “Do you even know me yet?” I say, wincing as I turn over on my bruised side. “Am I ever anything but?”

  “Oh, shut up,” he says, but even Rafael can’t help but grin a little at my self-inflicted pain.

  “Are you happy?” I goad.

  “I don’t know what you mean.”

  I point down at my bandaged sides. “This was all your idea. Now I can go in and out of the boy’s locker room in peace. No questions asked.”

  He chuckles. “Hey. I mean … if it works, it works.”

  I stick out my tongue at him.

  “But it’s not going to be enough. Gotta keep the rest of the act up,” Rafael says, nodding mostly to himself, his eyes glazing over as he’s lost in thought about how to keep up my charade for a little longer. “Your voice is losing its rasp. First thing tomorrow morning, we go outside and smoke.”

  I groan and roll over onto my back to stare up at the ceiling. “Do I have to?”

  I hear pages rustling as he grabs a magazine and starts flipping the pages. “Who’s the shaman here?”

  “You,” I admit.

  “Right. And don’t you forget it.”

  In the silence that follows, I let my eyes drift shut. Just walking from the infirmary to here was tiring. My whole body is sore. I hear Rafael get up and click off the lights, then the rustling of his sheets as he gets down into his bed.

  “Little bean?” he says suddenly.

  “Hm?” I’m almost asleep.

  “Good to have you back.”

  I smile.

  Rafael takes me out to the courtyard to chain-smoke before class. It’s my first day back, but I feel surprisingly calm about it. We sit with a few boys I haven’t met before, and to my great surprise Rafael introduces them as his friends.

  “Since when do you have friends? Multiples?” I hiss at him when a couple of them stand up to take a piss break.

  He keeps his face empty, but I can tell he’s pleased.

  “You’re not the only one with a double life, I guess,” he says, quietly. “Don’t tell me you’re so obsessed with me that you can’t handle having to share?”

  My jaw drops open, but I’m not given the chance to protest before the boys return.

  I stay silent while he talks to them, feeling slightly embarrassed and yet, at the same time, proud to be included. I’ve known Rafael for quite a while now. This is the first time he’s introduced me to anyone he’s described as a “friend”.

  And from the way they’re treating me, I’m not just Rafael’s annoying roommate. The boy Alex, marked by The Brotherhood.

  They do, however, all think I’m a klutz, but hey—they’re not exactly wrong.

  I’m thankful when Rafael deems I’ve had enough cigarettes. I’m so tired of the hot smoke wafting down my throat.

  “I’ve got math first today,” I tell Rafael, shuffling back up to my feet with a little sigh of discomfort. The bandages beneath my clothes are stifling.

  He nods and takes another drag. “All right. I’ll see you for second period, then.”

  “See ya, Alex,” says one of Rafael’s friends, a boy they call Fox for some reason.

  “See ya,” I respond shyly.

  I’m not used to people here besides Rafael being anything resembling nice to me, so I’m awfully wary, but as I walk away, I feel a little sad that I have to leave that protective bubble. I could use more friends like Rafael, people who watch out for me, at least … as best as they can. Especially since math is going to be dangerous. I share it with the entire Brotherhood, after all.

  And by now, they must be thirsty for blood.

  Beck, Heath, and Jasper are already there when I walk in. All three of them look up at me with their usual glares, but Heath’s is especially intense today. The weight of it makes a bead of sweat trickle down my forehead as I scurry to my seat.

  Scurry, like a rat.

  And those three boys are hungry cats. Or eagles. Some sort of predator. And I … I am nothing. I melt under the weight of their gaze until I can’t help but glance back up to meet it, however briefly.

  That’s where I make my mistake.

  I remember, immediately, why no one’s really able to stand up to them.

  It would be easy to chastise them, demonize them, view them for the bullies they are … if it weren’t for the fact that they just don’t look the part. They’re more cherub than devil, and they know it. Every smug, entitled line of their faces knows it.

  The betraying butterflies in my stomach know it.

  When the professor enters the room, Jasper leans over his work and I can see the corded muscles running down his arms. Heath lowers his gaze to his desk, and his eyelashes curve beautifully against his cheek. And of course there’s Beck, the tallest of them, with his razor-sharp cheekbones a striking take on the classic kind of handsome.

  Stop it, I chide myself, returning to my work. They may look heaven sent, but they’re going to take you to hell. And there’s no guarantee I’m going to make it back.

  What did it take, three days away from their constant torment for me to forget the monsters they are?

  Even still … it can’t hurt to look, can it?

  My desk is, unfortunately, close enough for them to easily jostle me and drop their textbooks on my feet—which Heath does as soon as the professor’s done explaining the worksheet we’re given. I hiss in pain and yank my feet back.

  He stares empty-eyed daggers at me.

  “Pick it up.”

  I just push the book toward him with my foot. He grits his teeth and picks it up himself—and then hurls it at my face.

  This is what it takes to snap me back to my senses.

  I manage to hold in the very girly shriek threatening to rip from my throat as I bat the big, solid book away from me. Moving so quickly sends pain shooting up my ribs, making me actually cry out and bend over my desk. The textbook clatters to the floor, landing open with its pages bending awkwardly against the stones.


  The professor looks up. “What was that?”

  “Dropped my book, Professor,” Heath replies, deadpan.

  Tears prick my eyes. The pain in my ribs begins to throb.

  “Alex?” the professor asks.

  I grit my teeth and look up, trying not to cry. “Yes sir?”

  “Are you all right?”

  “Yes. I—can I go to the infirmary for some pain medicine?”

  “You may. Heath, go with him.”

  Heath turns his eyes incredulously toward the professor, but I don’t have the patience to lament my fate. I just get to my feet and pull myself down the aisle between Heath and Beck’s desks to get to the door of the classroom.

  Heath follows. Once we’re out in the empty hallway, he grabs my elbow hard, hurting me even more.

  “It wouldn’t be this bad,” he snarls, “if you didn’t do this sort of shit.”

  I look at him, still trying to limp my way down the hall. He comes with me.

  “What are you talking about?” I mumble, my voice hoarse from tobacco and pain. “Why would I do this to myself?”

  I falter as my ribs throb again, nearly tripping over my own feet. Heath pauses beside me and tugs on my elbow to turn me toward him. I get a nice long look at his sharp jawline, his almond-shaped dark eyes, his perfectly coifed brown hair—the perfect picture of a British schoolboy. Albeit sneering and angry.

  But Heath just stares at me for a moment before shaking his head. “Forget it.”

  He searches my face for a moment too long. He’s looking for something there. I’m not sure if he finds it before he steps back and grabs my elbow again, so hard that I cry out this time.

  Without letting up on his grip, Heath drags me the rest of the way to the infirmary where I’m given more pain pills by a very wary-looking Ms. Weber. Thankfully, she makes me wait there until Heath grows too impatient to stay any longer. When he finally leaves, she watches the hallway to be sure he’s gone before sending me on my way to my second period.

  Literature with Rafael, and thankfully, only Beck is in this class. He may be the wildest one of the three, but at least he’s just one of The Brotherhood. And at least he isn’t Jasper.

  The ringleader. The instigator. And also the only one personally offended by me, thanks to his obsession with Olive … and Olive’s growing obsession with me.

  I run into Rafael on the way to class, and without saying anything he knows I’ve had a rough morning.

  “Oh, shit,” he sighs, pausing in the doorway to class.

  I stand on my tiptoes to try to see past him into the classroom.

  “What is it?”

  He doesn’t answer, he just beckons for me to follow. As soon as I catch sight of the board, I see what he’s upset about. Written in thick dry-erase marker across the top of the board are the words SEMESTER PROJECT. Beneath it are listed several bullet points, one of which reads assigned partners.

  I’ll just have to hope I get Rafael.

  But with my luck … I think I already know where this is headed.

  The class settles in as the professor strides through the open door with his books beneath one arm.

  “Good morning, class,” he says, and all chatter immediately ceases. “Welcome to the beginning of your semester project.”

  He ignores the ensuing chorus of groans and goes on to tell us about it.

  “Literature is often as inspired by the places they were written—or written about—as they were the authors who wrote them,” the professor says, his voice growing dreamy as his mind wanders a moment. “So, this semester I’m having you all do a little bit of travel outside the school walls.”

  That statement perks us all up a little. I’ve only been here a couple weeks, but I’ve already gotten the impression that this sort of chance to get away from Bleakwood doesn’t happen too often.

  “Each of you, and your assigned partners,” here he eyes us all a little closely, surely emphasizing the fact that this isn’t supposed to end up as an excuse to slack off with friends, “will be visiting several locations in order to experience first-hand the atmosphere that inspired a certain piece of classic literature.” He holds up one hand, the flicker of a thousand past repeated questions plain on his face. “And before you ask, yes … the book will be assigned as well.”

  Even this doesn’t dampen the mood too much, though Rafael does lean a little closer to whisper, “Ah, and here I was thinking I’d get to pick The Colossus and take a little holiday down to Greece.”

  Even though I have no idea what book he’s talking about, I allow a small smile to pull my lips thin. “Yeah? And who are you taking with you? Don’t worry,” I add in a hasty whisper while the professor’s back is turned to us a moment, “I’d be a fool to think it’s me.”

  “If I wanted a plutonic vacation, you’re right … I’d bring Fox. But if it was up to me?” His eyes dart across the room, and for just one second alight on Beck. It’s so brief that it almost doesn’t happen.

  Almost.

  “Please,” I hiss back. “You can have him.”

  Rafael just tries to hide his own secret smile, but I know the longing look on his face. If only Beck was gay, it says.

  If only Beck wasn’t an ass. That’s what he should be thinking.

  Part of me wants to box Rafael on the ears for even thinking it, but the other part of me remembers that I too was mooning over Beck just this morning. Damned teenage hormones.

  At least that gives me something to blame other than myself, anyway.

  “I have here all your names in a hat,” the professor continues, finally turning around to lift up a newsboy-style cap. “One by one, you will come up and draw a name. If you get yourself, you’ll draw again. Take a seat by your partner, and that will be your new seat for the semester.”

  Shit. I shoot a worried glance at Rafael. He barely looks worried. He’s lounging back in his seat, his foot tapping against the leg of his desk while he stares blankly at the whiteboard.

  The professor starts calling people to the front of the class. I hook my fingers around the edge of my desk, my fingers gripping the wood tighter than they should. One by one, boys walk up, draw a name, and then announce their partner before going to sit next to them. I listen as hard as I can, hoping against hope no one calls me.

  I know this is stupid. I’ve worked on group projects before. It’s not the end of the world if I end up with someone random. Maybe it’d even be good for me. Force me to wean myself off Rafael. Even an outsider could see I’ve grown to rely on him too much.

  That train of thought doesn’t stop my stomach from dropping when a boy in the front row pulls Rafael’s name.

  Rafael glances sideways at me with what I understand, for him, is a soft expression. I’m trembling now as his partner comes to sit himself in the desk next to Rafael’s and the next few boys call out their partners.

  I have to force my hands to steady. No big deal. This is going to be good for me.

  No one calls my name, and soon, it’s my turn to walk to the front of class. I stand when the professor motions me up and gather my books before heading up to the desk.

  The professor holds the hat out to me. Slowly, I reach over and dip my fingertips into the scraps of paper inside.

  “We don’t have all day,” he sighs at me.

  I nod and grasp one of the slips, pulling it out to read the name written there.

  No. Please … no.

  “Say it out loud, please.” The professor sounds more and more irritated.

  But it’s hard for me to focus on talking. My vision goes blurry as fear and nausea grip my stomach. I clear my throat and try as hard as I can to speak without my voice shaking. I glance up, meet my partner’s gaze, and then look back down just as quickly.

  “Beck.”

  Even though he keeps his voice even, I swear the professor winces just a bit.

  “Very well. Go find your new seat, Alex.”

  With trembling hands, I gather my books
off the professor’s desk and turn around, my eyes searching for Rafael. He’s watching me with absolute pity in his eyes.

  Beck, however, is watching me like a hungry wolf watches a sick deer. He sits back in his chair with his arms folded across his broad chest. I hesitantly make my way over to the empty desk next to him.

  My heart is beating so fast, I’m surprised the professor’s voice can be heard over it. I know for me, it’s drowning out everything else.

  I thought a few days’ break from Beck and the rest of The Brotherhood had been good for me. I thought it would help me gather my thoughts. Why then do I feel like my whole world is suddenly imploding, shattering, collapsing in on a black void of itself like a black hole?

  But all that is inside. On the outside, I keep my feet and hands steady. I force my eyes not to shift nervously.

  I slide into the chair with Beck side-eyeing me. The rest of the class has moved on. They don’t care. They’re getting their partners and lamenting their assignment. They don’t have to worry about their partner being one of the people sworn to torment them.

  “So,” Beck says finally, letting the singular word hang in the air between us.

  It takes every muscle in my body to keep from shaking. I’m keenly aware of every part of him, sitting so close. My whole body feels like it’s ready to flee at any moment.

  Rafael is peeking over at me, and something about his face makes me wonder if I’m not holding it together as well as I thought.

  “So,” I reply, trying to keep my voice in the boy-range. I clear my throat for a second and try to focus on calming down. This must be the pain pills. They’re making me jumpy. Paranoid.

  Beck wouldn’t do anything. Not here, in the middle of class, anyway.

  No promises later, when we inevitably find ourselves travelling alone. But that … that I can’t think about right now.

  “Hello? Earth to Alex?”

  “Oh, sorry. What?” I bat my eyelids a couple times, trying to focus as Beck’s face swims back into view.

  Beck has pulled out a tattered, dog-eared copy of one of the books we’ve been reading in class.