Hateful Lies: A dark high school bully romance (Stonehaven Academy Book 1)

by Nora Cobb

  “Pierce,” says Bryce, “Stop dicking around. I want to eat so I can go study.”

  “You said you hated the food here, Bryce,” he snaps, “and what do you have to study on the first day?”

  “I don’t want to spend another summer in another remedial class with you,” replies Bryce coldly, “You may enjoy the slow pace, but I was bored.”

  Pierce scowls at me as if I dissed him. Terri manages to get up from the floor without any help. He zigzags like a turtle balancing a vast shell on its back. And as soon as he straightens up, Pierce reaches over and pushes him again, sending Terri sprawling into a girl that screams like a banshee.

  Fuck this shit. I shake my head and yank my arm out of his grip, but he blocks my path. “Did anyone say you could leave?” he sneers.

  I look past him at Terri, who’s holding his arm like it’s hurt. His eyes are shining when he glances over at us, and he’s torn between getting his ass kicked or taking off.

  I narrow my eyes on Pierce. “Just get the fuck out of my way.”

  Pierce scoffs. “You can take the slut out of the hood, but the hood will never leave the slut.”

  I roll my eyes. “Fuck you, you prissy snob.”

  “Pierce, come on.” Bryce yawns behind his hand. “You’re wasting time, or more specifically, my time on this.”

  This? I’m a this now. I can feel the heat rising up my shirt collar as fury takes me over.

  Pierce holds up his finger to the other boy, and a flash of something nasty passes quickly over Bryce’s expression but is quickly replaced with a look of boredom.

  “At Stonehaven,” Pierce speaks smoothly, “we have the ability to express ourselves with more than one overused and very common word.”

  I stare at him, knowing that I’ve been insulted but not clear on how much. Roni has finally noticed we’re missing, and she starts hurrying toward us like a mama bear defending her cubs.

  “Pierce, I’m leaving,” says Bryce as he turns his back, and Justin follows. Wyatt doesn’t leave. He looks sternly at me, but the look is warning me not to lash out. He knows what I want to do so badly. The hate is rising up in my throat and burning it like acid. It’s been days since I kicked ass in the ring, and I need to beat out my tension. Just let this punk kid say one more nasty thing.

  “So, Princess, when do we get the pleasure of meeting your daddy?” His lips twitch. “Or did the paternity test come back negative?” He licks the tip of his tongue over his lips, and I’m done.

  My hand flies up in the air like it has a will of its own, and I slap the bastard across the face so loudly that the sound reverberates around the hall like a shot fired. Roni’s eyes bug out of her face, as does Terri’s, and Wyatt is racing toward us. Everyone is looking at me like I’m the uncouth piece of low-class trash—they’re about to get a lesson on what the other 99 percent can do.

  “Fuck you!” I shout. “You know nothing about me but what you conjecture. You like that big word, dumbass?”

  Pierce’s gaze cuts deep into me as he holds his glowing cheek. The insult hits harder than the slap.

  “Let me spell it out for you,” I continue, “G-O. F-U-C-K. Y-O-U-R-S-E-L-F.”

  His hand leaves his face, and my thoughts whirl as I wonder if he’s going to actually strike me back. I don’t expect a Stonehaven boy to hit a girl, at least not in public. Men who beat women only do it behind closed doors because they’re too chicken shit to let everyone know what they’re really like.

  Towering over me, Pierce places his hand on the nape of my neck, pulling me close. The hard muscles in his thighs press into me, and chills race around my body as the threat excites me. I’m not into sick shit, but this place may not be as dull as it looks on the outside.

  His body takes command over mine as he whispers into my ear, “Why fuck me when I can fuck you, babe?”

  I definitely don’t want that, and I start to struggle to get out of his strong grip.

  “Don’t say no just yet,” he smiles. “If you reach into my pocket, there’s a crisp twenty for you. But you gotta pull it out slowly.”

  “Let me go!” I snarl.

  “Okay,” he grips harder, “an extra twenty if you blow me.”

  Pierce moves back jerkily as Wyatt grips his shoulders and takes him off me. “Back off, Pierce.”

  Pierce smiles at Wyatt and shakes him off his shoulders. “I figured you want the wild girl, Wyatt. But know your place and get in line.”

  Wyatt grabs Pierce by the shoulder and spins him around. Pierce shoves Wyatt, but instead of hitting him in that obnoxiously straight nose, Wyatt chuckles, then they clasp shoulders.

  “Don’t be a dick,” Wyatt says as they walk away, “It’s unbecoming to your impeccable status, Pierce.”

  “Are you okay?” asks Roni, as she leads me off in the opposite direction with Terri trailing behind us. “Ignore them, Astrid. They’re assholes to everyone. It makes them feel better about their micro-dicks.”

  I smile, but my eyes are still on the boys as they sit down at table eight. By the time the faculty member appears, it’s over, and people are immersed in their own conversations about what they witnessed. In my mind, I picture Pierce in the ring on his knees, begging me to punch him anywhere but his precious nose. I smile as I smash my fist into it, sending him sprawling across the floor.

  Maybe, just maybe my dream will come true someday?

  Chapter 7

  Astrid

  I don’t have the money to pay a fine, and I can’t afford to have my clothes confiscated, so I stick to the uniform. The black skirt I can rock with my chunky sole black loafers and my short hair, so I decide to imitate a fifties look. I go online and search through Insta for rockabilly and Elvis. Pretty soon I’m hyped about wearing a uniform. I wear a white tank top under my oxford and knot it at the waist.

  “Look at you, little miss hottie,” Roni smiles as I walk out of the bathroom. “Actually, you’re pretty tall. And those biceps. You work out?”

  “A little,” I mumbled.

  Each dorm room is en suite with its neighbor. The bathroom separates the two dorm rooms, and the two center rooms share a common wall. There are twelve rooms on a floor, six on each side, odd numbers on the north side, and even on the south side. I find out later that the blonde girl with the long hair lives at the opposite end in number twelve—the only private room with a private bath.

  “Well, I look like what I am.” She holds her arms out from her sides. “A Mack truck with a rack.” She laughs, and I shake my head.

  “You are sexy, popping out of that shirt like a goddess.”

  She swats my arm. “Come on, let’s grab a bagel, and we can eat as we walk to class.”

  I get looks, but not much else happens on my first official day as a Stonehaven student. My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I yank it out, checking the screen.

  Nova: Grl, where r u?

  Astrid: I told you. Stonehaven.

  Nova: U r joking? Right?

  Astrid: I’ll see you tonight.

  “Some guy checking up on you?” Roni peers over my shoulder, teasing me like she wants to read the screen.

  “No, my other best friend.” She smiles her approval at her new status in my life.

  Well, this is it, the Wisdom Hall.

  I pull out my schedule and check the name. “Vanderbilt Hall.” I look at her. “You’re fucking kidding me. I thought people were playing me. It’s named after that rich kid.”

  “Around here, they mean it. Don’t be late to class, sit near the teacher, and be the first to leave.”

  I walk into Vanderbilt Hall, and the whole world is rushing around me. I’m exaggerating, but kids are too busy moving past me to bother with my presence. I look at the schedule again, and my first class is rhetoric. WTF is that? My phone buzzes, and it’s my alarm reminding me to be in class. What a fucking difference. At Monarch, you could show up before the end and still pass. I’m not trying that shit here. Room 305 has to be on the third floor, so I b
ook it up the steps, taking two at a time and startling the kids walking up the flight one at a time.

  I assure myself it’s a good workout, but I’m making a spectacle of myself. No matter. I’ve got to get into that room and get a good seat before they’re all taken. I walk into room 305, and the teacher has her back to the room as she writes on the dry-erase board. There’s a seat in the second row, and I hurry to get it. I sigh with relief until I see Pierce sitting next to me. I look behind me for another seat, but I see that guy Justin behind me. There’s a seat behind him, but the blonde who spooks me is sitting next to it.

  The teacher turns around. “Okay, class, it is time to begin.” She gives the evil eye to the few stragglers and waits sternly for them to be seated. “I am Ms. Angela Harmon. Please check your schedules. This is rhetoric level three in Vanderbilt Hall Room 305.”

  She keeps going, and I am thoroughly lost. She uses words I didn’t know people actually used and a hundred more I’ve never heard before in my life. I’m in trouble, and I can’t understand how I ended up in this class.

  “Any questions?” Professor Harmon looks over the class, and I swear her gaze rests on me for a moment. “Good. You will use an actual book for this class. Not an eBook. And you will have it for the next class, and chapters one through four will be read.”

  Pierce raises his hand, and Professor Harmon nods. “I do have a question, Professor Harmon. Could we have a review of last semester’s key points?”

  Professor Harmon nods. “Why don’t we ask the class?”

  I close my eyes and pray like I just learned how that she won’t pick me. “We will go around the room, starting with the first student. Say your name and then answer the question.”

  Shit. Stealthily, I count the number of students, and there are only sixteen. It’s a small class, and there’s no way class will end before she calls on me.

  “What are the main principles of rhetoric?”

  The first student stands to answer. My eyes bug as my mouth opens, and someone behind me chuckles. Professor Harmon glances over but says nothing. Again her gaze falls on me before looking away with a grimace. My forehead feels warm as sweat forms in my armpits. I’ve fought some nasty fuckers in the Pit, but I’ve never felt this kind of dread before a fight. Slowly, my mouth dries out as, one by one, the students stand and answer the questions correctly. My turn slowly approaches me like a wave about to crash and knock me facedown before I can flee. I fidget in my seat as I stare down at the floor while trying hard to keep my breathing low. If I pass out, I won’t have to answer.

  “Next student.” Pierce stands up, and of course, he answers his question correctly, beaming like he wrote the book on it.

  Then the blonde stands up. “Charlotte Howland. And the answer is…”

  She might as well have been blowing a raspberry because I don’t understand a word coming out of her mouth. She manages to answer her question with a little minor help from Professor Harmon. The boys bump fists like they invented that move, and I want to barf. Seriously, I’ll never use a fist bump again. Professor Harmon glares until they calm the fuck down.

  “Next student.”

  Slowly, I stand, brushing my skirt down in the back. In my peripheral vision, I see Pierce smirking at Justin, taking pleasure in what’s about to happen. They have front-row seats and are ready to see me crash and burn. They’re both pricks.

  I clear my throat. “Astrid Bowen.”

  Professor Harmon nods. “Who was the father of rhetoric?”

  My head swims, or maybe it’s the room. A line of sweat lets loose from my armpit and leaves a wet trail in its wake as it crawls down my side. I search my chaotic brain for an answer that I’ve never known. Someone behind me taps their pencil against their desk while someone else sighs.

  Professor Harmon glares at the students surrounding me. “He was Greek,” she prompts.

  “Aristotle,” I reply, but it sounds like a question.

  “Correct, Astrid,” her mouth softens, but she doesn’t smile. “Next student.”

  I toss myself down into my seat and stare at my desk in relief. How the fuck am I going to survive Stonehaven? I don’t know this shit, and I don’t have any intelligent friends. My friends chuck textbooks around the classroom like nunchucks. They’d laugh at the thought of opening one up to read.

  “Justin Leister.”

  Professor Harmon glances at her watch. “What is the etymology of anthropocentrism?”

  His mouth drops open, but he doesn’t answer. The boy looks like a stick just fell out of his ass. The seconds turn slowly into a minute as Professor Harmon waits for Justin to answer the question. She doesn’t offer him a prompt like she did for me. In fact, she barely looks at him as the entire class turns in their seat, waiting for an answer.

  “I don’t know how to answer the question,” he finally croaks out.

  Professor Harmon’s lips twerk into a grin that immediately disappears. “Write an essay on it for next class.” She stands up from her desk. “Class dismissed. Astrid Bowen, stay behind.”

  My back slumps against my seat as I sink down, waiting for the rest of the class to leave. Justin kicks my desk as he walks by. I expected that shitty behavior from Pierce, but Justin shoots me a nasty look that straightens my back. I was foolish to think these boys don’t think with the same brain. The class is empty, and I look at Professor Harmon, who glances at a piece of paper. I jump when she suddenly starts speaking.

  “Please come to the front of the room and stand in front of my desk, Astrid.”

  I leap to my feet as if someone yanked a string attached to the top of my head. I hurry as fast as I can. My chunky shoes squeak across the polished tile floor. I stand in front of her desk with my hands folded and my posture perfect. At least I know how to do that.

  “You’re a new student.” Our gazes meet—mine stressed, hers calm. “Have you had rhetoric before, Astrid?”

  “Ma’am, I can barely speak English.” I wish I hadn’t tried to make a joke when she scowls. “Sorry, no. I went to Monarch Street Academy. We don’t have rhetoric there.”

  She cringes, and I wonder what I said.

  “These are my office hours.” She hands me a business card with her name and hours.

  My eyes widen a little. “You’re a doctor?”

  She nods. “Professor Harmon will suffice.”

  “Thanks…Thank you, Professor Harmon.”

  Her smile stiffens as she gazes down at my shoes, and I quickly exit the room, headed for my next class. Since the students live on campus, there are no lockers, so we get twenty minutes between classes just in case. I learn that forgetting a book or homework is a lame excuse. I shove the card in my bag and head down the stairwell, slowing down as I hear voices echoing in the stairwell.

  “There you are,” Pierce smiles at me as I come down the stairs, “the little scholar. How does it feel to get one thing right in your life?”

  “Shut your hole, your turd,” I hiss at him, “You better not ever fucking touch me.”

  A girl walks into view from the turn in the stairwell. She looks at me like I was spawned, not born. Fuck. She hugs the rail, and we watch her slow progress as she eases past me, careful not to touch me. The second she’s past me, she flies up the stairs and out of sight. I sigh, rolling my eyes.

  “You are eloquence and class whenever you open your big mouth,” Pierce smirks. “Looks like you’re always putting your foot in it.”

  “Better my foot than your teeny weenie dick. Go…”

  “Fuck myself?” he laughs, “Don’t have to. Slap myself. You’re also doing that. According to the gossip, you’re a talented dominatrix.”

  “What are you laughing at?” I glare at Justin, who seemed like he might have been decent.

  Justin sneers, his lips curling into a savage scowl. “I don’t know how you managed to trick Harmon, but you won’t do it again at my expense.”

  “Your expense?” I mock him. “I had nothing to do with you
choking on your answer.”

  He laughs. “I’d like to see you choke on something big.” He glances back at Pierce, who nods his head. Justin looks back at me, and his gaze glides down my legs. The hungry look in his eyes places me on alert. Suddenly, I realize no one else is in the stairwell but us.

  “I have to go to class,” I back away. “So, why don’t the two of you give each other a hand job?”

  Pierce shakes his head. “See, she can’t stop talking dirty. I was dismayed when I found out that you were a student at the same institute of learning that I attended. But now, I understand how useful you will be for the student body.”