by Nora Cobb
The picture is starting to fill in, but what picture will I eventually see? None of the boys would dare talk about the incident in Wyatt’s room. Or Bryce at the café. Or Wyatt and me by the warehouse. I touch my cheeks, and they are scorching hot. I never blush unless I’m sweating hard during a workout. Rawlins holds up her hand, and I stop trying to pronounce a word with eight syllables and two vowels.
Rawlins scowls sharply before she speaks. “You have been accused of impropriety by three male upperclassmen.”
“Me? What about them?”
“What about them?” She flips her bob dismissively. “They’ve been students at Stonehaven since the sixth grade and have reached their senior year without an incident until you prowled onto campus. Your varied and numerous sexcapades have reached my ears. I’d like to say I was shocked.” She shakes her head. “But I’m not surprised to find your moral compass spinning wildly in circles.”
“It takes two, and I had help,” I reply defiantly.
Her eyebrows rise, and maybe being overly honest wasn’t the best defense. Sometimes honesty can cause big trouble.
Rawlins glares at me even harder. “You are a siren luring boys from good, decent families onto the rocks of ruin with your low-class breeding. I know your kind. Trap them with a baby because a ring won’t be offered.”
“How dare you,” I shoot back, “It’s not like that; it’s never like that. They’re worse.”
She sits back in her chair and flips her hair, refusing to address the truth. “Your father is an active donor to the school, so tossing you out on the curb like an alley cat is not an option. I’m going to have to watch you. Just because you’re rubbing shoulders with the privileged, you are not one. Not yet. If only this was your sole offense, but there was another complaint, and it was much more serious than this.”
My heart beats harder, and it’s a wonder I can breathe.
“Bryce Shelton accused you of stealing money from his room after a supposed tryst,” she explains, “And that money was found in your room and returned to him. He talked me out of pressing charges, but if it happens again…”
I gasp. “That was my money.”
“Really? Where did it come from?” she asks.
“I can’t say.
“Astrid, your father is a very wealthy man. There is no need for you to abscond with other people’s funds.”
“I didn’t abscond!” I’m shouting now. “He’s lying. He’s lying about everything.”
She reaches down in that fucking drawer again and pulls out my underwear. That asshole.
“Is this your unwashed undergarment?”
I pause.
“Don’t you lie to me,” she warns, “The whoring and the stealing I can forgive once, but lie to me, and I will drag you out of here by your hair, and believe me, I will. Your strength will be a poor match against my sheer determination.”
I doubt that very much. “They’re mine.” I admit.
“I knew it. I found them hidden in his drawer.”
“You searched his room too?” I shake my head.
“Of course. He accused you of misconduct in his room, and I wasn’t going to take his word for it.” Rawlins takes a breath and sighs. “Astrid, these are my people. I know how they are and what they expect. If you’re not born knowing, it can be a hard world to learn. You’d have an easier time learning Russian from a Spanish textbook.”
Standing up, I’ve hit my limit of abuse for one day.
“I am constantly reminded that I don’t belong,” I say, “Everything I do, everything I say, is an opportunity to make me feel small. It’s not like I was born knowing, and they don’t have a course on it. I never asked to come to Stonehaven. My friends are all at another school, and I’m not supposed to mingle with them because they’re low class. Well, guess what? I’m low-class and proud.”
Rawlins looks unimpressed with my speech. “It would’ve helped if you had read the handbook.”
“You aren’t going to give me an inch.”
“No, I can’t,” she replies, “One bad apple spoils the student body, and then the school drops in rating. It loses money, and our collective world loses its prestige.”
“I can’t go back to my old school,” I reply, thinking about Mom. I sit down heavily. “So, what do you want me to do?”
“This is a conversation you should have had with your father,” Rawlins takes a breath. “It has put us both in an awkward position. I should speak to you about academia and your future. Not about your antics that befit a juvenile delinquent. I blame your father who dumped you here at Stonehaven as if we were a daycare and left you to fend for yourself.”
“My father won’t speak to me,” I reply bitterly, “He won’t acknowledge me. I can’t even say his name.”
“Do you know it?” she asks, tilting her head.
“No, but if I did…”
Rawlins frowns and doesn’t pursue. “Your father is coming here in a week to see you.”
I grip the chair. “What? Why?”
“He wants to meet you,” Rawlins replies, “Nothing that has transpired has been brought to his attention by me.”
“I did nothing wrong!” I stare at her hard without shame. “Whether you believe me or not. They aren’t nice boys.”
“Then stay away from them,” she says. “Astrid, I’m sure you’re a lovely person, but you’ve lost sight of your goals. You’ve been set adrift, and you might lose yourself. I’ve seen this happen with other students. Coming to Stonehaven is like crashing a family reunion where you obviously don’t belong. Maybe no one will say anything, but they’ll make you feel uncomfortable.”
Chapter 30
Astrid
His note hits the back of my leg, and this time, I pick it up.
Stacks. After school. Must attend.
September ended with extreme drama, but October has moved forward with little notice until today. I take Charlotte’s advice and later, Dr. Rawlins’, and stay away from all the boys. Wyatt is the easiest to avoid. We have an unspoken agreement to walk in the opposite direction when we see each other. We have no classes together, and he starts using the gym in the evening after I’ve left.
In class, Bryce stares past me with a sour look on his face. And Pierce does the same with his arms folded. Justin tries to feign disinterest, but from my periphery, he’s eyeing me, and something is clearly on his mind. But his horny thoughts are not my concern.
My resolve is to fight back harder, and if nothing else, to get all my money back. I’m still allowed to attend the Investment Club meetings, but I don’t have a say in how the money is handled. I’m also not able to touch any of the money earned. When I asked Professor Getz, it turns out that the five hundred dollar fee goes toward administrative costs. Unfortunately, I’m going to need some money soon, as my bank account is down to fifty dollars.
I refuse to call that man who says he’s my father but acts like a jerk-off. A week went by, and he was a no-show. Of course. He’s been a no-show my entire life. Dr. Rawlins sends word that he’s been tied up and will see me next week at school. I don’t care if he goes to hell instead. I have no interest in him; I’m only putting up with the bullshit for Mom.
Besides my other schoolwork, I’m required to read the student handbook and write a short essay on each chapter. Dr. Rawlins emphasizes that she’s interested in content, not grammar. I write a moving essay on good study habits. Ironically, the info actually helps me with my classes. I make fun of the dated principles in the handbook, but on some level, I realize how much I need them here.
Tomorrow is Friday, but today, I head over to the library to meet Bryce. I refuse to go up to the stacks and sit downstairs on the first floor at one of the group study tables, just like the other rich kids. I make eye contact with Bryce when he walks through the double glass doors. He scowls and motions toward the elevator. But I shake my head and hold up the student handbook, tapping the cover with my index finger.
Bryce walks toward
me and attracts the attention of half the students sitting at the tables. Two sophomore girls watch him stroll by and no doubt think he’s hotly delicious. Well, Bryce is rotten to the core. They whisper and watch when he sits across from me, tossing his messenger book bag onto the table. That leather bag is costlier than the designer bags most of the girls carry.
“I have an essay due.” I flip open the handbook. “On social graces. So, I don’t have time to hide out with you in the stacks.”
His mouth tightens into a line. “We have business to discuss.”
“Discuss it here,” I reply lightly, “No one will understand what we’re talking about. Or maybe you didn’t want to be seen in public with me? So, we had to hide in the stacks like your dirty little secret.”
His jaw tics, but he rolls his eyes. “Don’t be dramatic.”
I shake my head once. “I’m not. I’m an obedient student. Morally good girls don’t sneak off with hormone-driven boys to secluded corners in the school. They might trip and fall, and oops, your manhood might slip into my delightful bud.”
“Fine,” he snaps in a low voice, “I can tell you here. You’re booked to fight Saturday. Wear something sexy, and it will be a draw.”
“Will I be paid?” I ask. “I want double what you stole from me.”
He nods. “It’s the only service I’m interested in paying you for.”
Bryce picks up his bag and saunters past the two girls. They have been eyeing him the whole time. Bryce winks, and it sets off a flurry of giggles. The bastard used to wink at me like that. I may have been majorly fooled, but that doesn’t mean I am a fool. I shove that corny book aside and shoot Nova a text. In thirty minutes, she confirms the name of the girl I’m fighting.
Nova: Erin O’Connor.
Astrid: She slays. Rich boy wants T&A.
Nova: WARNING. She gives back what she gets.
I actually do have an essay due tomorrow. When I’m finished, I hit the private gym, ignoring Wyatt as he walks in for his workout. I’m dripping sweat as I torture my body, building endurance on the treadmill and then beating up a freestanding punching bag in one of the private studios. From the corner of my eye, through the glass, I see Wyatt pass by the door. He glances over and frowns but keeps going. When I decide to quit for the night, he’s gone. And I feel empty, like I’ve been let down. I’d hoped he would still be there. He must really hate me, and he should.
***
I don’t punish myself with another grueling workout Saturday. Instead, I take an easy jog around the trails. I’m invited to run alongside the track team and spend the four miles chatting with two jocks. I made a big mistake. I should’ve hooked up with the jocks, not the snobs. For the most part, Gillian and Bobby are good-natured. They remark that I have a reputation for being serious about my workout. They don’t mention anything else.
“What sport are you into, Astrid?” asks Gillian. Her light brown hair is tucked under a Stonehaven baseball cap, and though her legs look short, they are powerful. I can picture her kicking down doors. Bobby is taller, with the build you’d expect on a track star. His auburn hair is cut short, and what is it with guys wearing shorts all year long? It’s not that warm.
I shrug my shoulders. “Oh, running and kickboxing.”
Bobby’s face lights up. “There’s a kickass dojo, no pun intended, over in Woodland Heights.”
I frown. “Where? How far?”
“Woodland Heights,” he explains. “It was West Weymouth, but the residents petitioned the county to change the name. They claimed the name Weymouth brought their property values down.”
“Snobs,” I mutter. The banter abruptly ends, and I curse myself, convinced I might have offended them both. But Bobby gives Gillian a quick look of encouragement. What’s going on?
“Astrid, do you mind if I ask you a question?” Gillian asks.
“Go ahead.” I’m hesitant but curious as we match our pace around the curve.
“Are you fighting tonight?” she asks quietly.
I stop running, and when they stare back at me, Gillian and Bobby start to laugh. “We’ve seen you at that warehouse,” explains Gillian, “but we hang out in the private room. I was wondering if you were fighting again, and the buzz is you’re on tonight. I’m definitely betting on you.”
“Look,” I say, “I can’t talk about it here. But I’m glad that you’ll be there to cheer me on.”
Gillian starts running again, and we follow her down the trail toward the main campus. “The way you told off Pierce Vanderbilt.” She shakes her head then laughs, “I’m betting you always win.”
***
I try to ride my bike, but a black Mercedes with blacked-out windows blocks my path when I leave the front gate. Justin leaps out, grabbing the handlebars on my bike.
“You can’t ride up on that.” He effortlessly picks my bike up and tosses it into the trunk. And I have a fit when he accidentally slams the trunk down on the front wheel. He cuts me off. “People are betting real money. You have to show some class.” He swings the back door open and waits for me to get in.
“And who’s going to show you how to act?” I reply, climbing in. I sit as close as I can to the window, ignoring him as he appraises my outfit.
“I hope you have something else to wear.” He frowns at my baggie black sweats that sag over my knees. “Bryce is expecting plenty of boobies shaking.”
I sigh. “Boobies? What are you, a toddler? It’s October, and I want to keep warm while I’m freezing outside. Don’t worry, I have on something sexy underneath this.”
“I need to see it,” he replies abruptly. Justin does his best Bryce imitation, but not with that long blond hair tumbling off his shoulders. Justin looks like he’s about to strum a guitar, not fight the barbarian hordes shirtless.
I scoff. “You need to wait.”
The car drives up to the front door of the Pit, past a line of people waiting to get in. Nova is hanging out beside Teeny, and he cautiously watches the doors of the car open. She nods in my direction, and I nod back. Nova steps forward, heading straight for me, but Justin steps in between us. He towers over Nova’s petite frame and stares down on her as if she better not dare move. Nova ignores Justin as if he’s nonexistent and moves to step around him. He makes the mistake of grabbing her arm while Teeny watches.
Nova stares at Justin as I crowd him. “That better not be your hand,” she states dryly.
“Don’t approach the talent,” Justin warns her.
Nova laughs as Teeny takes a menacing step forward. Justin packs more muscle than he appears to, but Teeny resembles the moon during a total eclipse. He blocks everything out, and Nova is his serious crush. Nova smirks as she yanks her arm out of Justin’s grasp.
Although she’s almost a foot shorter, she sticks her long rainbow nail into Justin’s face. “You don’t touch me without my permission.”
“She’s my friend,” I intervene before the name-calling starts, “Try to be cool,” I tell Justin, “and I’ll try to have a little class. Deal?”
Justin narrows his eyes on Nova and speaks to her, not me. “Deal.”
He walks off ahead of us but stops in front of the metal door. Justin could open it himself, but he waits for Teeny to do his job. Justin gives Teeny a dirty look that says more than words and then he enters the Pit. Smiling, Nova squeezes Teeny’s shoulder before she enters. She would’ve bragged that she could’ve handled Justin herself, but Nova knows when she’s outmuscled and outplayed. I seriously doubt Justin would’ve done more than kick her out. Things have changed. At this point, the rich kids have more pull at the Pit than anyone in the neighborhood. The place is making too much money, and we’re losing our say in our own hangout.
“The place is packed,” Nova comments on the obvious as we squeeze past the mob waiting for tonight’s fights. “You’re up second on the schedule. You’re the hot ticket, but you’re also the entertainment.”
We head off toward the changing area that’s strictly for
fighters only. I hold my head up high and sway my hips as people watch me pass by in my shabby sweats. I get puzzled looks up and down my body as I show off my strength in my walk. But my feet falter when I catch a glimpse of Wyatt without his mask, stationed by the dressing room door. He looks at me but then looks away. That move decides it. I’ll ignore him for the entire night.
“Is Erin here?” I ask, looking around. Everyone shares the same locker room. You see the person you’re about to thrash into a silly pulp later. We’re all here to make money, so the egos stay in check while we prep before the fight. Erin walks in, and we make eye contact. I nod, and she nods back. The girl is a fucking Amazon with cut muscles and long legs. Her breasts are smaller than mine, but the boys like her pale skin and puff ass. She is wearing a sports bra and boy shorts that sit low on her hips. Her hair is pulled back in a thick red ponytail, and she swings it around her head as she punches at the air.