Oh My God: An Enemies to Lovers College Bully Romance (Saint Angels Academy Book 1)

by L. J. Woods

  “The only thing you need to mention is what we’re ordering next,” I say, sliding the menu over to him. “Pick something. I choose wings. Or nuggets!” My phone vibrates in my hoodie again, distracting me from whatever Nix is saying. Gabriel. So now he calls. He’s always there when he wants to be. Not when I need him.

  Selfish prick.

  “I can give you the moon but you have to let me get to space and back.”

  Fuck that. I need to get him out of my head.

  “You alright, Liles?” Nix searches my face and I nod.

  “I need to get more fucked up.” After pulling my hoodie over my head, I down the rest of my drink. “Let’s go somewhere else.”

  Nix agrees, paying the tab as I head for the doors. On the way, a head of blue hair greets me in a corset tucked into baggy jeans. Another girl with shiny hair and a little white dress follows.

  “Gemma? Mariam?” I gawk, eyebrows rising. “Am I so drunk I’m back in Clementine?”

  Mariam rolls her eyes, pulling a beige sweater over her skimpy dress. “You’d think coming to the city meant you didn’t bump into people you kne—Hi!” Nix appears beside me, Mariam straightening her stance.

  “Daaaamn, Mariam!” Nix takes an exaggerated step back, hand under his chin as he takes her in with his widened eyes. “You look fly as hell!”

  My curiosity gets the best of me. “What are you guys doing here?”

  “What? I party! In Jesus’ name, of course.” Mariam does the sign of the cross.

  “Jesus did you good, girl,” Nix comments.

  Mariam flips her hair. “Plus, I needed a breather from Clementine after your little Delilah Show and Gemma just moved to the city.”

  “Fuck Clementine,” Gemma says, brushing off her tits. “This is where I’ve always belonged. That town has way too many problems. Some I really shouldn’t talk about.”

  “It’s fine,” Mariam rolls her eyes. “Delilah babbled it all. Why didn’t you talk to me before you did that? Now Pastor Godfrey knows you know!” She pokes my shoulder. “And he knows I told you!”

  “Ow!” Rubbing my arms, I wince. “You left me with no instructions! And I didn’t want Gabe getting the upper hand.”

  “Wait, what are you guys going on about?” Gemma asks.

  “That’s what I came down to talk to you about,” Mariam responds.

  Nix chimes in, his hand in the air like he’s in class. “I got a place we can talk.” Even if he’s only trying to get with Mariam, talking isn’t a bad idea.

  “Yeah, we should talk,” Mariam agrees. “But I have to use the little girl’s room first.”

  “And then drinks!” I remind them. Something tells me I’m gonna need it.

  Thirty-Three

  Gabriel

  Fuck. My. Life.

  I’m ducking in my car, slumped into the driver’s seat like I’m on a stakeout.

  Like I’m a stalker.

  When I saw Nix’s car head onto the highway from Clementine, Delilah in the passenger’s seat, I couldn’t help but follow. I’ve been in this spot as long as they’ve been in our old bar. Two and a half hours—and twenty-three minutes if I’m really keeping track. Which I am.

  Still can’t figure out what the fuck Gemma’s doing with her and part of me wonders if they’re plotting something. Or she plotted with her.

  Or is that my paranoia?

  Nix comes out of the bar, calling to her before she turns around with that gorgeous fucking smile. My smile. And with her arm tucked into his, he takes off running down the road with her. Gemma following.

  I don’t know what’s worse. Getting kicked off the team or finding out Delilah’s with Nix. Is that where she’s been the last few days? Holed up with her old lover? Fuck I don’t even know. Haven’t slept in the last few days, holed up in my car. All I have is fifty dollars leftover in my “allowance account”. That, my phone and this gas card. With my parents kicking me out and with everyone in that town taking my dad’s side, it’s the only place I have that’s mine.

  Stopping at Grandma Daniels’ house gives me some food and a bed to lay in one night, but no Delilah. And that house feels so fucking empty without her. So does that town.

  Some overproof rum from the house is the only thing I’ve had to kick my craving. That helped knock me out one night but nothing like that sweet, sweet nod off. That blissful feeling that everything will be okay.

  Happiness.

  Warmth.

  Delilah.

  Drugs.

  Calling Delilah again gets me her voicemail. Another text gets me no answer and I’m fighting everything inside me to follow them to wherever else they’re going. But that’s only digging myself a deeper hole.

  Leaning up in my seat, turning up the classical music on the stereo doesn’t help me to chill. Coming down to the city wasn’t a good idea. Thought the drive would help and no it fucking didn’t. Banging on the steering wheel a few times helps to get the frustration out but it’s not enough. That’s when my eyes zero in on the guy pacing back and forth on the corner up ahead.

  He’s in a blue velvet tracksuit. Not the real shit. A car pulls up to him and in two minutes, he drives away. It’s the third time that’s happened. He’s been here since I got here.

  The lightbulb in my head flickers on.

  The guy stays back, pacing the corner as I watch him another ten minutes, tapping my finger against the wheel. Sure enough, another car pulls up and in two minutes, takes off again.

  Fucking. Bingo.

  Don’t know why I didn’t think of this before. The city is the perfect place to score. If my folks want me to believe that God’s got my back. Tonight, he does. Turning on the car, I creep towards the shady-looking guy and roll my window down. His brows furrow but he approaches me anyway, body like a scarecrow, tall and thin. Those shifty eyes dart around my car before his eyes fall to my hoodie. It’s not designer but it’s not cheap either.

  “Yo,” he greets, tilting his chin.

  “I’m looking for some … stuff.” Fuck, I’ve never done this before.

  I know what you’re thinking. Isn’t this what addicts do? Not when you’re from a suburban town with connections right in your school.

  He hesitates, looking around before he leans into the window, gold tooth catching the streetlight. “You a cop?”

  “No, not a cop.” His eyes narrow. “Just in need of something good.”

  He looks around again before he pulls on the passenger door. It’s locked. “You a cop?” he asks again.

  “No, man,” I repeat. “Not a cop.”

  His eyes land on the rosary hanging from the rearview before the muscles in his face relax. “Open the door and we’ll handle business.”

  Shit. He didn’t get into anyone else’s car.

  Letting a sketchy stranger in my Tesla, one who could hold me at gunpoint and rob me for my ride? Not a smart idea. Am I doing it anyway?

  Hell yes.

  He climbs into the passenger seat and instructs me to drive a couple of blocks before we pull over in a run-down burger lot.

  “Nice ride,” he says, taking a look around before he reaches in his pocket. He pulls out a few baggies, laying them out on his lap as he looks out the window.

  “It’s tinted,” I reassure him.

  “Meth and H,” he responds with a nod. “What’ll it be, my man?”

  Shit, is that it? I hesitate. Meth isn’t my thing, I’m more of a downer guy and that other shit? I’m not a junkie. “You don’t got like … Xanies or Oxy?”

  He laughs, “You kids from the burbs are always after some knockout shit.” He pushes the smaller baggy up the dirty fake velvet on his lap. “Tell you what, I’ll give you this for a discount. It’ll do you right. You don’t gotta be hard up about it. Google it.” He taps his nose.

  “What is it?”

  The dealer explains. While I’ve been told never to touch this shit, if that’s all I need to get out of this state, to get out of my mind, I’ll take it. Sma
cking down the bills in his hand, he smiles with a nod as my blood starts to pump again.

  “Nice doing business with you. You know where to find me.” He leaves the car heading into the burger joint.

  Looking in my hand at the baggie, I’m getting that feeling I get before Adam and I hit another line. Lightness. An excited buzz. The feeling that everything’s about to be okay. The feeling that tells me I can breathe. That in only a few moments, all the noise will stop.

  My phone buzzes and when I reach in my pocket, it’s another angry text from my Dad. Not checking in. Not asking if I’m okay. Telling me to call my mom.

  I call Delilah instead. She still doesn’t answer.

  Another text doesn’t get me anything either. Since I can think a little clearer now with some new drugs burning a hole in my pocket, I try to think of another way to get to her.

  InstaShot.

  Tapping to her page, @sk8rtits, the photos make me crave her even more. Scrolling through her old photos doesn’t make the sinking feeling in my stomach any better. Never did. I crave her now much more than I did before. Her selfies make my cock twitch no matter if she’s flipping the bird, or sticking out her tongue like she’s trying to lick the screen. It only reminds me of how her tongue feels on my body. On my lips. On my staff.

  She didn’t even give me a chance to explain why I wasn’t around at the festival. My folks got in the way, they always do. Instead of being there for her, I entertained my dad’s bullshit that went on way too long. While trying to keep up appearances, I let her down.

  Like an idiot.

  She didn’t have to go that far and if she’d just answer her fucking phone, I can tell her the truth. Everything. The truth about Elijah. The truth about Hazel. If my dad wants to be a god, he’s doing a good job. He sacrificed his son for the good of his flock.

  When I tap back to her main page, there’s a new photo. Posted thirty seconds ago from an unknown location. She didn’t geotag but she looks happy as fuck. Happy with his arm around my girl. Or his girl.

  I’m fucking pathetic.

  My stomach rolls.

  There’s only one thing I can do now and that’s take my score back up to Clementine to do what I do best.

  Get fucking wasted.

  Delilah

  Snort!

  Nix’s snore rips through my ear, his head on Mariam. It’s two in the morning back at his studio in The Annex. Mariam and Gemma sit on his small sofa, Mariam sandwiched in the middle.

  Sitting on the floor next to Nix, I slap his arm. “Do you want me to wake him?” I ask.

  “No. It’s fine.” Mariam waves me off, her cheeks turning red. “You have to talk to Gabe.”

  “Funny, you want me to listen to you,” I say, the room a little spinny from our back-to-back drinks. “When you showed everyone at school my fucking tits!” Picking up a SpongeSteve sock from the floor, I toss it across the room at her head.

  Gemma laughs, leaning on the arm of the couch, stoned as hell from the joint we all shared. Minus Mariam.

  “Your phone is really easy to hack and I wanted you to find me,” Mariam explains. “You were being all Riverdale but I didn’t want it to be obvious. I wanted to help but I didn’t want it coming back to me.” Her shoulders drop, Nix’s head lowering. “Evidently it went horribly and I’m sorry. It was short-sighted, and after what happened to Sammy, my decision-making wasn’t the best. But I need you to talk to Gabe. As much as my parents want me to be with him, I’ll admit it. You’re the only one he’ll listen to and he’s the only one who can take down his dad. You couldn’t do it. Hazel couldn’t do it. We need him.”

  “And if his dick is half as good as his dad’s, you need him too,” Gemma sucks on a lollipop, the purple lights in Nix’s small room giving her hair a cool colour. She shakes her head. “It’s like crack-dick.”

  “Do you guys know if Hazel and Gabriel are really a thing?” I ask.

  “See?” Gemma says. “Hooked.”

  “Definitely not banging.” Mariam shakes her head. “His dad just wants the spotlight off him.”

  A weight lifts off my chest and it’s clear Gabe never left my mind. No matter how much pot and rum I consume, it doesn’t get the thought of him out of my head. Either I need a Godfrey exorcism or I need to face this shit.

  “Pastor Godfrey needs to go down,” Mariam says. “Something tells me we’re not the only girls in town he’s preyed on.”

  “I don’t know if we can rely on Gabe to help us,” I say. He’s not reliable. So what if he’s not fucking Hazel? Still doesn’t change the facts.

  “Why?” Nix has an eye open, his head still on Mariam’s shoulder and I wonder if he was ever really asleep. “‘Cause you think he was there when Elijah died?”

  “Yeah!” I respond, slapping my thigh. “If he was, that’s a dick move.”

  “I’m telling you, Liles, get the whole story,” he says.

  “I agree,” Mariam says.

  “If it helps put Pastor Godfrey’s balls up his body,” Gemma chimes in. “Yeah. You should.”

  Fuck. Falling back on the cold floor, I avoid their wishful eyes.

  Do I want to go back to Clementine? No.

  Do I want to help get justice for these girls? Yes.

  Do I want to see Gabe?

  …Yes.

  I also owe Hazel another apology.

  I groan, “Let me think about it.”

  When the girls leave, Nix and I get comfy in his bed and he knocks out in seconds. But I still can’t sleep. Gabe’s calls have stopped but I still keep checking my phone, toying with texting him. So I do.

  Delilah: Let’s talk.

  Letting the phone drop to my chest, I wait. Not without checking the phone every ten minutes. Thirty minutes go by before I text again. The next hour is painful, my nails tapping against the back of my phone, Nix snoring next to me.

  There’s no way I’m getting any sleep now. Sitting up, I take a deep breath, calling his number. Still nothing. Flopping back down in the thin sheets, all I can think about is my conversation with Gemma and Mariam. My conversations with Gabe. If there’s more to this story, I’m not resting until I figure it out.

  “Nix.” Rolling his body from side to side is hard with all that muscle, so I pound on his shoulder. “Nix!”

  “Mariam?” He sits up, eyes wide when he awakes.

  “Ew. No. We gotta go.”

  “Where?”

  “Clementine.”

  He rubs his eyes, taking a second before a smile creeps across his face. “Couldn’t sleep?”

  “Not a pinch.” He nods, understanding right away. “You sober enough?”

  “Not caffeinated enough.” My hoodie is already on my head when Nix pushes off his mattress, wiping the drool off his mouth. “Let’s do this.” Without putting on a shirt, he grabs his keys from the hook beside the door. “Let’s go. But first, McDougals.” Before we’re out the door, I give him a giant hug to show how grateful I am. Without Elijah around, he’s the next best thing to my brother.

  Once we’re in the car he hits up the drive-thru before we head back on the highway to Clementine. ETA: two hours. Two hours for me to rethink this. Two hours for me to process what the fuck I’m about to do.

  Two hours until I see Gabriel Godfrey again.

  More old-school hip-hop plays and Nix and I both look at each other when “No Church in the Wild” comes on. That’s like the fourth time in one night and I wonder if …“Do you think that’s like…Elijah?” I ask, gripping to the handlebar on Nix’s car. It’s like I’m expecting my dead brother to emerge from the dash.

  Nix glances at me. “Man, you’re still high as fuck.”

  He’s right. I’m just happy to be arriving in Clementine during the night. This way, the locals won’t make a big deal about the return of the “devil child.”

  As we get closer to the town sign, I instruct him to head over to the Godfrey mansion. While they wouldn’t want me anywhere near their house right now, I’m p
lanning on using the same window Gabe pushed me out of to get his attention.

  There’s just one thing. When we get to the driveway, his car isn’t there. It’s not on the street either.

  “You wanna wait until morning?” Nix asks.

  “Let’s check Adam’s.”

  Nix remembers the way, but Gabe’s car isn’t anywhere in sight. When we swing by Nani’s, nothing either, the lights all off inside. My chest sinks, a churning in my stomach. “The fuck is he?” I mutter. Nix asks if we should go inside and get some rest but let’s be real, I’m not sleeping until I find him. “Let’s go to the rink.” Being a legend of a friend, Nix does what I say. After driving around the entire building and the community center. There’s still no Gabe. Then it hits me. “The church! Duh!”

  When we get to the church lot, the lights make the cross on top look bigger than I remember. Taller. Brighter. Everything Pastor Godfrey wishes he was. That’s when my eyes fall on Gabe’s car. Fucking finally. My eyes narrow at the driver’s door. It’s open. Before Nix can call me, I’m already headed to it.

  Shit.

  That feeling I had before I opened the door to Elijah’s loft consumes me. Heat. A sinking feeling in the depths of my stomach. A burning in my throat.

  A few empty baggies sit in the seat, one with something inside that makes me shudder. “Nix?” I call, heading for the church doors. “Get me that box!” Rushing towards the big doors to the church, I’m not even sure if Nix heard me but there’s only one thing on my mind. Gabe.

  The doors aren’t locked when I push them open, and since it’s almost five in the morning, something tells me he’s inside. “Gabe?” Rushing up to his dad’s office, I call his name again. “Gabe!” He’s not there and when I check the other rooms used for events and Bible study, I don’t see him there either. He’s not in the bathrooms. Not in the kitchen. Taking a breath, I head back up the stairs. “Gabe?!” My voice echoes through the halls, off the high ceilings, but I hear nothing. “Gabe!” Nothing except for the faint sound of drums. A tinny beat like it’s coming from a phone. That song again. “No Church In The Wild.” It’s coming from the main room and with my hand on one of the doors, my heart stops.