I was thankful for the reprieve from them but also anxious to be alone in the room with Gavriel. I nervously smoothed my pale pink skirt and looked up at the brooding boy. I took in the slight hunch in his shoulders as if he were injured recently. His shirt was wrinkled, and his eyes held a slight shade of red. My heart ached for a guy I didn’t know. I could just sense the trauma on his skin. “Hi,” I choked. “It’s nice to meet you.”
Instead of answering me, Gavriel’s face greeted me with cold anger. It happened in a flash, a cool, swift appraisal of me that had my head spinning. In one minute, Gavriel Moretti had me figured out, and the words he said next determined that he didn’t like what he saw. “What the fuck are you looking at?” he sneered. My mouth dropped open in shock, and my empathy dissolved on the spot. He was snappy and rude, curling his lip dismissively at my hard stare. I was annoyed with him for ruining the illusion. I’d built him up in my mind. Sometimes curiosity was better than the truth.
I debated on walking out of the house, but my mother would reprimand me if I so much as stepped a toe out of line. Gavriel waited, and his harsh presence felt like an unyielding challenge—it felt like he was testing the waters of my resilience. I looked him in the eye, gauging the cruelty there before responding. “I’m just trying to figure out how they put eyeballs on an asshole.”
His eyes widened in shock. It wasn’t my best comeback, but I wasn’t used to witty responses. I was conditioned to be submissive. It was in my blood. “Wasn’t expecting that response, but I can’t say I’m disappointed.”
“And what were you expecting?” I asked. “You don’t know me.” He dragged his brown eyes up and down my body, lingering on my modest skirt and the pearl necklace wrapped around my throat. I looked down at my outfit and could only assume what he was thinking. I was a princess, a cookie-cutter representation of the image my parents were determined to shove down the throats of anyone willing to watch.
“A little fucking ray of sunshine,” Gavriel replied with a smirk. There was a sense of pain in his stare. I didn’t understand this immediate sense of infatuation with him, but I was determined to know him. Truly know him.
“Sunshine, huh?” I asked. If only he knew the irony. I was Summer Bright. My entire life was destined to be filled with shining my light on others, but there was a darkness inside.
“I think that’s what I’ll call you,” Gavriel replied. “Perfect little ray of Sunshine, out here to point and stare at the charity case. I’m surprised you found time in your social calendar. Everyone in this fucking town is the same.”
Gavriel kicked at the wall, surprising me with his temper tantrum. “I guess that makes you the angsty foster kid with a chip on his shoulder. Is this the part where you blame the world for everything wrong in your life? We should put this shit on Lifetime.” I could have slapped my palm over my mouth for letting such crude thoughts slip. Who was I? Why did this boy bring out the feisty in me?
“Sassy little thing, aren’t you? Do you get off on calling people out?”
Admittedly, I was definitely enjoying this. I’d just met Gavriel, and I’d tossed all my manners in the garbage. What was wrong with me? “I guess you just bring out the best in me.” The instantaneous hatred caught me off guard. It was a ruthless chemistry. It was the sort of banter that felt organic and teetered the peak of cruelty without going completely over the edge. It was flirtatious, in a way. It was mean but necessary. Something told me that if I hadn’t shown some backbone, he wouldn’t have given me a second glance. He was intrigued by strong things, and for once in my life, I didn’t want to be weak.
“Or it’s just easier to snap back at people you think are beneath you?” he asked in disgust.
I swallowed my words. That wasn’t the case at all. I didn’t want him to think that, but before I could open my mouth and explain, my mother came strutting out of the kitchen, clutching her Louis Vuitton purse and gritting her teeth. I guess she lost the banter with Mrs. Jameson. “Come on, Summer. We’re leaving.”
I nodded, but my feet were rooted to the spot. I wasn’t done getting to know the brooding boy next door. Mom placed her hand on the doorknob and noticed that I hadn’t budged. “Summer,” she huffed before stomping back to me and bracing her hand on my shoulder. She squeezed so hard that I winced. I knew with complete certainty that it would bruise. It wasn’t the first time I was guided with a heavy hand, and wouldn’t be the last, either.
Gavriel’s eyes zeroed in on the movement. Time seemed to stop for a brief moment. He chewed on his tongue and stared at my mother’s hand with venomous intent. “Move your feet,” Mom hissed before dragging me out of the Jamesons’ house. I stole one last look at Gavriel, but he was gone.
Once we were outside, Mom let go of me. “That woman is the devil,” Mom cursed while digging in her purse. I wasn’t even surprised when I saw the flask she pulled out. The metal canister was small enough to fit in her palm so people wouldn’t see her inability to wait until we got inside for a swig of her Everclear.
And as we walked back over to our house, with her complaints echoing around us, I felt Gavriel Moretti’s eyes on my back with every step.
Chapter Three
Summer
THE JAMESONS HAD a pool in their backyard. I once asked Mom if we could get one, but she said she knew a girl that drowned a couple of years ago. She said everyone blamed the parents for not keeping a proper eye on their four-year-old, and she refused to be the talk of the town if I somehow managed to drown.
I loved to swim, and if I craned my neck, I could see the Jamesons’ resort-style pool from my bedroom. There, over the fence and through the branches of the tree outside my window, was crystal clear water designed with luxury in mind. There was even a hot tub and a shaded area with lounge chairs. I’d always been jealous of it. I loved to swim—loved to feel the cool water on my skin. The Jamesons sometimes had parties out there when they were home. Mom would come up to my room and spy, looking for something to talk about.
But right now, there was only Gavriel out there. Well, Gavriel and a girl.
When Gavriel started school, the world went into a tizzy. Everyone at Chesterbrook High quickly became enamored with him, and it pissed me off. When it was just me watching him from afar late at night, I didn’t have to share him with anyone. But now, I couldn’t escape the rumors and gushing. He was the shiny new toy everyone wanted to play with.
Gavriel had the sort of vibe about him that was dangerous. The girls wanted to date him. Guys wanted to be him. One day our lives were normal, and the next Gavriel Moretti showed up and started a frenzy—a frenzy I secretly poured over.
I devoured the gossip like it was my homework. I watched for him in the hallways. I listened to girls brag about eating lunch with him. I poured myself into the whispers of the teachers.
He has a gunshot wound, you know. Sitting out on gym for another week.
We shared one class together and the same lunch period. Only once had our eyes collided. I forced a challenging expression on my face, daring him to remember me. Daring him to bring up the day we met. But he didn’t. He simply nodded past me at the pretty girls with pretty smiles and pretty big tits—I mean teeth. He didn’t seem to revel in the attention but, instead, owned it. Commanding the attention of the room seemed like his birthright—his calling.
I heard his father was a mobster. Violence. Drugs…
I couldn’t escape it at school, but the attention was starting to follow him home.
I was sitting at my desk, staring casually out the window, when I saw the flash of two bodies wading in the water. I moved closer to the window and stood close enough that my breath fogged up the glass. I couldn’t make out the girl he was with, but I recognized Gavriel. His dark hair was wet as he ran his fingers through it. He had a playful smile and kept reaching out for her as she swam by in her little pink bikini.
My chest constricted.
I didn’t even know this boy—not really—but it hurt to see him flirting
with someone else. He pulled her closer and wrapped his arms around her middle, picking her up before slamming her playfully in the water. They stopped swimming for a moment, and she ran her finger over his shoulder, a question in her gaze. I sensed the change in him from my spot by the window. His body went taut. I’d heard rumors that he was hurt. Whispers about him getting shot before moving here traveled like wildfire around the school, and I wanted nothing more than to ask him about it. Gavriel was like this puzzle I couldn’t figure out.
I pressed my palm to the glass and crushed my nose against it, trying to get a better look. And then, he was kissing her.
It looked innocent enough. He clumsily cupped her neck and tilted his head to deepen the kiss. Their bodies moved like the waves of the water, flowing playfully. And their smiles were blinding when she pulled away. I was almost certain that if I opened my window, I would have heard her giggling.
I couldn’t help but wonder what it would feel like for me to press my lips to his. I’d never kissed a boy before. I pulled back for a moment and pressed the tips of my fingers to my lips, applying pressure like it was a science experiment. Would a kiss feel like this? I’d heard jokes about girls that made out with their pillows, and I never understood why. But now, I wanted to know what it was like to experience a kiss. And from the looks of it, Gavriel knew what he was doing.
I’d never felt this craving before. This desire to reach out and touch. I’d liked plenty of boys, but this was something tangible. I just wanted his attention. I wanted to be wanted. This was a crush.
“What are you staring at?” a calm and brusque voice called at my back. I flinched.
“N-nothing,” I yelped while pulling away and spinning to stare at the door to my bedroom where my father was standing. He had thinning hair and dark circles under his eyes. Though tall, his arms were skinny, and his stomach looked like he spent his off days drinking nothing but beer. I couldn’t confirm that for sure, though. Whenever he was off work, he was gone. I think that’s why Mom was always so depressed.
My father wasn’t the type to command the room; he was the type to weasel his way into a position of power. He rubbed elbows with anyone with a semblance of power and siphoned it for himself.
“You have tennis practice today. I want to see some improvement on your form.” I nodded and stared at my father. I hated tennis. I hated it with a vengeance. I wasn’t good at it and lacked any sense of passion for the sport. It was like everything else they made me sign up for. I just wasn’t good enough. I would never be good enough.
“How are your grades?”
“All As,” I replied proudly.
“Good, good.” I preened at the half-hearted praise.
Dad looked like he wanted to say something more. “Do you need anything?” I asked. We never really had that great of a relationship. Dad just made sure the women in his life stayed in line while he was off doing...whatever it was he was doing. Work, probably. Hopefully.
“If your mother leaves the house at night while I’m at work, can you call me?” he asked.
This felt an awful lot like being put in the middle, and I definitely didn’t like it. Was he worried she was off sleeping with someone? Was she trying to catch him with someone else? It was no secret their marriage was on the rocks. My mother wouldn’t be so destructive otherwise, and she was worse when he wasn’t home.
“Yes,” I replied, the words like ash on my tongue.
“Good. Now go back to finishing your homework. We have a city fundraiser tonight.”
“Okay,” I replied with a slow, submissive bow.
I waited until I couldn’t hear my father’s footsteps anymore and turned around to glance out the window once more, but the blond girl was gone. I stared at every visible inch of space at the Jamesons’, then jumped when their front door opened. Out stumbled the blond girl and Gavriel. He walked her to her bike and kissed her gently on the cheek before sending her off. I watched the interaction with curiosity flooding my veins. I didn’t know who she was. I didn’t really take the time to learn about my classmates. I was too busy studying and being shuttled to different after-school activities. But I wanted to know her. I wanted to know what he liked about her. Was she outgoing? Smart? Ditzy? Funny? Beautiful?
I knew she was beautiful. I could see the long legs and thick blond hair from here. I bet she was calm and docile. I bet Gavriel liked girls that giggled at the appropriate times and cowered when spoken to.
“What do you like, Gavriel Moretti?” I asked, though there was no one there to hear me.
As if conjured by my quiet words, Gavriel turned to go back into the house but paused to look up at my window. I flinched when our eyes collided. I wanted to slouch down and hide from his inquisitive and bold looks. His hardened face twisted into a cruel smile meant only for me. He nodded patronizingly, then disappeared inside.
I spent the rest of the afternoon playing that look over and over and over in my mind.
Chapter Four
Summer
THERE WAS AN art to fundraisers that not many understood. Some required a god-like presence, with white monochromatic brand-name suits that made you look like some sort of patron saint. Others required quiet humility—an understated essence. If you were in the presence of the less fortunate, you only wore expensive brands that didn’t have their logo plastered all over them. The jeans were still three hundred dollars, but the homeless you were serving dinner to were none the wiser. Everyone else in the room knew you were wealthy, but you weren’t rubbing it in the less fortunate’s face.
And the fundraisers I hated most were the ones like what I was attending tonight. They were over-the-top opulent and excessive. It was like a parade of wealth and pretentiousness. You were expected to wear your best clothes, and mine were usually handpicked by my insanely image-conscious mother.
Most of our money came from my mother’s inheritance. Police chiefs didn’t make much—even in this town. Sometimes I wondered why my father bothered to work at all, but then I remembered that power and money usually went hand in hand. He liked the influence it gave him.
I was pulling at my childish sequined dress when we walked through the doors. My mother was in a ridiculous, black, floor-length number with a slit up her thigh. Dad wore a tux, and I wore my fake smile. “Go mingle with the other kids, dear. We want lots of donations this year. I’m determined to beat Francis Day’s ‘feeding the homeless’ soirée.” I felt like a pawn.
I did what was expected of me. I worked the room, giggled at jokes, and nodded enthusiastically when adults commented how grown-up I was getting. It was all silly. I felt like a show dog on a leash that lived for getting pats on the head for being good. By the end of it, I didn’t even know what we were raising money for. This entire event was just for show.
I decided to excuse myself from a boring conversation with an elderly gentleman. He had wandering eyes and creepily invited me to a private tour of the candy shop he’d just bought. Gross. Maybe I needed to tell Dad about him.
I inconspicuously slipped out of the ballroom and found an empty hallway to sit in, with the echoing, dulled noise filling the space around me. I leaned against the wall and picked at the pink nail polish on my nails, watching as flakes of it fell in my lap.
“You put on quite the show, Summer Bright,” a dark voice said to my left. I knew who he was immediately. My name sounded like a curse on his lips.
“Hiding?” I asked while adjusting my ridiculous dress. He rounded the corner and pressed his back against the wall beside me. From the corner of my eye, I saw his perfectly tailored pant crease on his leg.
“Watching,” he replied. “Question, do your parents pay you to work for them at these events? Or do you just do it out of the kindness of your heart?”
“I believe in charity. I like helping,” I said through gritted teeth. It was a knee-jerk response that had been drilled in me since the day I was born. I wasn’t even sure if it was the truth, but it sure did sound good when I said it
to Gavriel.
“Do you?” Gavriel asked. “Do you really?” He crouched down and cocked his pretty head at me.
“I do,” I replied defiantly. I didn’t. I didn’t care. I wanted to be selfish and spend the night relaxing. Not worrying about homework or what I needed to do or what my parents were going to sign me up for next.
“What’s the charity then?”
I stumbled to remember. Staring up at Gavriel’s dark eyes had me momentarily paralyzed. “Children’s literacy center,” I replied with a swallow.
“Wow. Sounds important,” he replied, looking down at me. “You must care a lot about literacy to whore yourself out to those creepy men in suits. That modest dress and batting eyes don’t fool me.”
I blinked. What did he just say? Did he call me a whore? The word sounded so dirty coming from his mouth. I guess, in a way, my parents did pimp out their sweet little daughter. What he said felt like the truth, but I didn’t like how oversimplified he made what was happening sound. I didn’t have a choice. My parents were the architects of my life.
Gavriel crouched next to me, with a wicked grin on his face. “Does this work usually?” Gavriel asked while running his hand over the collar of my shirt. I bit my lip at the slow, sensual contact.
“W-what?” I asked.
“This outfit. The pale pink gloss on your lips. The kitten heels. The pigtails. You look like a pedophile’s wet dream.”
I frowned. “You’re disgusting,” I replied while swatting his hand away. “Does this work for you?”
I stood up and adjusted my dress, grinding my kitten heels into the tile floor. “Does what work, Sunshine?”
“Do you just insult girls and then they follow you home so you can make out with them in the Jamesons’ swimming pool?” I immediately regretted my words the moment they left my lips. Now Gavriel Moretti knew for certain that I was staring at him earlier. Even though he had taunted me with his gaze, I didn’t want him knowing I was watching the entire thing. I could have slapped myself for letting my anger get the best of me.
Bully Me: Class of 2020 Page 29