Bully Me: Class of 2020

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Bully Me: Class of 2020 Page 65

by Shantel Tessier

I wipe the tears and water off my face as my teeth chatter and unzip the bag. There’s a pair of my white denim jean-shorts and dark purple tank-top. I stare at them in my hands.

  Where did they get these?

  Had they been to my house? Did they sneak in while my father was at work? A thought hits me, and I fist my clothes. They have a key.

  “Motherfucker.”

  They could have walked right in. I gave one to Scout a couple of years back. He came and went as he pleased. My father didn’t care. He liked him around. My brother was already away at college, and I think my father missed a guy being around. I once came home from a party and found Scout out back with my father grilling steaks. I remember being pissed at him because he was supposed to go to the party with me, but he had chosen to hang with my father instead.

  Was this the real threat? Leaving this clue to remind me they have access to my house?

  The door flies open, and I jump to my feet, shielding my body since the soaked clothing clings to me but let out a sigh when I see it’s Lacey.

  “How did you know I was in here?” I ask, teeth chattering.

  “I was walking by as Scout walked out. What the fuck did they do to you?” she demands.

  I wave her off. “I’m fine.”

  “Henley …”

  “It’s just water,” I repeat my thoughts to her. “I’ll be fine. Find me a towel. I need to dry off and get out of these clothes.”

  She tosses me a towel, and I quickly remove my wet clothes, dry off, and pull the other ones on. “Why would they get you wet but bring you new clothes?” she asks, looking me up and down.

  “I have no clue,” I say honestly, biting my lower lip.

  “Maybe they put a bug on them.”

  “A bug?” I arch a brow, unable to chuckle at her question.

  She nods quickly. “They’ve had something sewn into the seam, and now they can track your every move.”

  “You need to cut back on the stalker romances,” I say even though I know nothing about this girl. Obviously, she has a vivid imagination or a sketchy past. She did say she’s a part of the system.

  I throw my wet clothes into the duffel bag and toss it over my shoulder. “Come on. We’ve got class.”

  I push open the door and look left and right. The hallway is completely empty, letting me know the bell has rung, and I’m now late. But as we exit the boys’ locker room, my stomach begins to knot because what they did isn’t making any sense. Wouldn’t they love making me walk the crowded halls in wet clothing? Wouldn’t they enjoy the students laughing at me? Videoing me? The kids here always have their phones glued to their fingers. I wouldn’t be surprised if someone recorded them taking me into the locker room to begin with.

  I take the towel and run it over my hair to absorb the excess water dripping over my shoulder before placing it in the bag as well.

  “Here you are,” she says, coming to a stop in front of my class.

  “Thanks for everything.”

  She grabs my hands. “It’ll be okay. I promise you. They’ll get tired and move on.” Neither one of us believes that bullshit. “Let’s have a girls’ night tonight?” she offers. “I’ll come over, and we can watch a movie. Pop some popcorn and drink a bottle of wine—”

  “I think that sounds nice.” I interrupt her, not even needing her to finish the idea of a girls’ night.

  Chapter Seven

  HENLEY

  LACEY HAS BECOME one of my best friends in a matter of days. She’s also still my only friend at the moment.

  She was born in a small town in Colorado. When she was three, her mother ran with her to Texas to escape an abusive husband. It turned out, her father found them and killed her mother before turning the gun on himself, so she was put into the system at the age of six. She’s on her sixth home and plans on running the moment she graduates.

  I feel sorry for her. For Brenda. For all the boys and girls out there who feel like they are alone. That they have no one to turn to. To help them. To love them.

  I haven’t spoken to Jamie since I used Datson. She’s ignoring me, and a part of me knew that’s how it would go. I’m beginning to think she never believed me. That maybe she just told me all that shit to make me feel better at the time. Who the fuck knows. I no longer care. I’m over it. I didn’t come back to be her friend. Or for her support.

  The week has gone by slow as shit. I keep to myself but refuse to look at my feet when I walk. The girls point at me and laugh. The boys just give me death glares. Thankfully, there haven’t been any condoms or lube in my locker. The boys who I once considered my friends are smarter than that. More calculated. They have a plan, and it doesn’t include such juvenile things. I’m on high alert all the time, though, because I sure as fuck don’t trust them. I’m a threat to them. Damn right, I fucking am!

  It’s officially Friday, and the hallways and classrooms are covered in red and black banners to show team spirit for the football team tonight. They have a home game. Apparently, they’re 4-0 this season. Big surprise there.

  Not.

  I’m bent down, placing my books in my locker when I hear “Triggered” by Chase Atlantic being played. I look over my shoulder to see Dax coming down the hall with his cell in his hand. He has the song playing on it at full blast. Everyone quiets and watches him walk by. He has his Gucci shades over his eyes, but I feel his eyes on me. This is my warning.

  The song.

  The words.

  It’s him telling me in front of the school that they’re all going to come after me.

  I stand to my full height, which I hate is only five feet five, and slam my locker shut. Turning to face him, I watch him walk past me, fisting my hands. Anger fills every inch of me, and hatred boils to the surface. “Dax?” I call out.

  He comes to a stop and slowly turns to face me. The corners of his lips turn up, and my heart pounds in my chest.

  “Yeah, sweets?” He calls me by the nickname he gave me after our first kiss. It just infuriates me more.

  “Go fuck yourself.” My words are just as shaky as my fists are.

  Audible gasps fill the hallway. I hate everyone else as much as them. They act as if I should bow to these motherfuckers and lick their shoes.

  My words grant me a full-blown smile, showing off his impeccable white teeth. His tongue darts out to run across his lips seductively. He moves, walking back toward me, and my shoulders stiffen, but I don’t step back. Not here. Not in front of these kids. I refuse to look scared of this monster.

  He comes to a stop as the song ends. He locks his screen and slips it in the front pocket of his jeans. He reaches up and takes a piece of my hair and starts to twirl it around his finger. I’m panting at his closeness, but I must remind myself that he won’t touch me here. He won’t hurt me in the open. No. He’ll do it like he did Brenda—when I’m alone and vulnerable. And when he makes his move, I’ll be ready.

  “I’d rather fuck you, sweets,” he says loudly for all to hear. My teeth clench. “And I always get what I want.”

  “Even if you have to force it,” I state.

  The smile drops off his face, and his body goes rigid. “I don’t have to force myself on anyone.” He steps close to me, pressing his body into mine. He grips my hair in his hand and yanks my head back. Lowering his head to my ear, he whispers, “They’re all fucking sluts. Just like you are. Remember how easily you spread your legs for me?”

  “Dax?”

  He lets go of me and takes a step back as Scout calls out his name. Dax looks over my shoulder, and I spin around to see him coming toward us with Law and Rellik on either side of him. They’re drilling holes into me.

  “Everyone get the fuck out,” Scout orders.

  Lockers slam shut. Shoes squeak on the floor as kids scatter to the nearest exit. I stand my ground. “I’m not afraid of you,” I say through gritted teeth.

  Scout laughs at that. “Well, you never were all that smart.”

  I charge at him, but Dax g
rabs the back of my shirt and slams my back into the lockers. His body presses into mine. “I’m getting fucking tired of you …”

  “Why don’t you get rid of me? Like you did Brenda?” I arch a brow, poking the bear. I’m playing with fire, knowing that if I get too close, I’ll end up being ashes. But I can’t stop.

  “Calm down, man.” Scout slaps him on the back a couple of times in some sort of Morse code. Some understanding that he’ll get his chance at me. Just not here.

  Dax steps back from me. His chest heaves as he breathes fire. I’ve hit a nerve. Good. I want to break him. Every man can fall. It just takes a strong woman to do it, and I’m her.

  Without another word, they all walk away from me and out the door.

  “Henley?”

  I look over to see Lacey running toward me. “Are you okay?”

  “Fine,” I growl, throwing my backpack over my shoulder, knowing that I need to up my game. Dax is close. He wants to make his move and hurt me. Possibly kill me. He knows that I’m the only one in this town who can take him down because I saw him that night. I know everything. He won’t stand by and wait like the others are telling him to do.

  “Are you sure?” she asks, pushing her glasses up her nose.

  I ignore her. “What are you doing tonight?”

  She frowns as if worried that I changed the subject. “I need to study—”

  “We’re going out,” I interrupt her.

  “Where to?”

  Where it all began. “Death Valley.”

  Chapter Eight

  HENLEY

  “WHY ARE WE here?” she asks as I turn onto Spring Valley Boulevard. Spring has been blacked out with black spray paint and above it now reads Death.

  “Because the guys will be here after the game.” This is their hangout on the weekend.

  She sighs heavily.

  I pull through the open gate, looking around the vast property crowded with vehicles. Trucks have their tailgates down with ice chests sitting on them. Cars have their trunks open, and Jeeps have their tops off.

  “I’ve never been here,” she states as I pull up next to a white Range Rover.

  “Never?” That’s not a total surprise. This place isn’t for girls like her.

  She shakes her head.

  A man dressed in black pants and a black shirt runs by us wearing a white mask and red contacts. She shrieks, jumping into my side to get away from him.

  “Come on.” The front double doors are open. We step into a grand foyer. A staircase runs up the middle of the large space and then splits off to either side. It reminds me of Beauty and the Beast. Before he turned back into a prince and everything was shiny again.

  “This place gives me the creeps,” she whispers. “It …” She sniffs. “Smells like death.”

  “There’s an urban legend that it’s haunted.”

  “Haunted? By whom?”

  “The boys who died that night.” I take her hand. “Come on. He’ll be fighting soon.” I drag her farther into the castle as she sighs.

  She comes to a stop as her phone begins to ring in her pocket. She pulls it out and bites her bottom lip nervously. “I have to take this; it’s my foster brother.”

  I nod, and she walks away, answering it. She told me last week that five of them currently live in their foster home, and I think she has to play mom to all of them. I run my hands along the wall. The wallpaper has been peeled off, and there are holes throughout. Not to mention the smell. Lacey was right. I make my way up the stairs and down the long hallway. Pieces of the walls are missing. A girl fell out of a second-story window two summers ago and broke both of her legs while on an acid trip. It was not a good day for her.

  The only reason we party here is because it’s twenty-five miles from the closest town. The cops don’t bother us, but that also means if there is a problem and we have to call 911, it takes the paramedics a while to reach us.

  I squeeze between the couples who are making out on either side of the hallway and walk into a room.

  I find myself walking into the chapel even though my mind is screaming not to do it. This is where it happened. It’s as if I’ve come full circle. The room looks the same as it did then. The stained glass has been broken out, allowing the full moon to shine in. It’s the only light in this room.

  I walk over to the corner where I saw Brenda lying on the ground. Where Dax killed her.

  A noise behind me has me spinning around, but I come to a quick stop when I see something. No, someone. They’re up on the stage crouched down with their forearms on their thighs. It’s Scout. I can feel it.

  He wears black jeans, unlaced combat boots, and a black hoodie. It’s up over his head. I can’t see his eyes, but I know he’s staring right at me. He has a mask on. Its lit-up blue. An X marks both of his eyes, and lines across his lips look like stitches.

  My spine tingles, and my thighs tighten. It’s like an imaginary rat is crawling up my back. I want to shout and jump around to try to shove it off, but I don’t.

  Slowly, he rises as though he has all the time in the world and jumps off the platform. He stalks to me, closing the space between us.

  I quickly look around to see that I’m still alone. I should have never left Lacey. Swallowing, I find my voice. “Scout.”

  He comes to a stop before me, and I tilt my head to look up at him. My palms sweat, and my knees shake.

  He says nothing but tilts his masked face.

  I look around quickly. “I, uh...”

  “Henley.” He whispers so softly, and I wonder if I imagined it.

  I take a stumbling step back. My body is shivering. “I should be going...” I turn to leave, but I’m brought to a stop when his hands grip my hips, and he yanks me back.

  His arm snakes around my waist, holding me in place. “Stay. It’s about to get interesting, baby.”

  “What...?”

  I look up to see the other three guys dressed the same as him enter the room. But they have weapons. The one on the far right—which has to be Law, judging by his height—has a baseball bat over his shoulder. The one in the middle, I’m guessing is Rellik, holds a knife fisted in his left hand. And the one on the far left, who I know without a doubt is Dax, has a chain wrapped around his fist. It’s so long it puddles at his feet.

  My breathing picks up. Scout’s free hand comes up to wrap around my neck. I gasp.

  “How do you like it, Hen?”

  “W... what?” My voice shakes. To my surprise, none of them laugh at me.

  “Sex,” he clarifies. “How do you like to be fucked?”

  Panic grips my chest, and I try to shove him off, but he’s too strong.

  “If I remember correctly, you like it rough,” he whispers in my ear.

  “Please.” I bite my bottom lip before it slips out again. “Scout ...”

  “If you’re going to beg, then you’ll do it from your knees.” He shoves me forward, and the force has me tripping over my feet. My hands slap the dirt-covered concrete along with my knees. I cry out from the pain that shoots up my arms and legs.

  “We all prefer pain more than pleasure.” I hear Dax say.

  “Well ...” Law chuckles. “Their pain gives us pleasure.”

  I snap my head up and blow the loose strands from my slick face.

  Dax steps forward, and before I can move, he has wrapped the chain around my neck and pulls me forward, momentarily cutting off my air. He yanks me to my feet, and I slam into his body. His mask-covered face is staring down into mine.

  I suck in a shaky breath and grip the chain in my fists, trying to get it off, but it’s pointless.

  “A bitch should always be on a leash,” he says. “On her knees ready and willing.”

  I lift my knee, connecting with his balls, and he drops the chain. As he hits his knees, I run out of the room and down the dark hall. Reaching up, I remove the chain from around my neck and toss it to the ground. I turn a corner and scream out when I slam into someone.


  “Are you okay?” a woman asks me.

  “Fine.” I breathe, quickly looking over my shoulder to see if they have chased me.

  “Are you sure?” She goes on.

  I nod quickly and turn back to face her. She looks older than me, but not by much. Her long dark hair is down and curled in big waves. She wears a red long-sleeve shirt with the sleeves pushed up. My eyes catch sight of a scar that runs along her forearm. My eyes instantly snap up to hers, hoping she didn’t catch me staring. Her green eyes look me over with worry.

  “Looks like you’ve seen a ghost,” another woman says, coming up beside her. The blonde with blue eyes crosses her arms over her chest. Her eyes go to the ceiling. “I imagine there are a lot in this place.” She smiles as if she likes that thought.

  “Yeah,” I breathe. “I guess.”

  “Another reason we should get the fuck out of here.” A guy comes up behind her and wraps his arms around her shoulders and pulls her back to his front.

  “Give it up, Deke. We’re staying,” the blonde tells him, rolling her eyes, but she doesn’t push him away. The rock on her ring finger lets me know he’s either her husband or this is where she brings her side piece. Noticing his ring confirms it’s her husband.

  “This place is identical to Silence,” another man growls, coming to stand next to the brunette. “Boring and uneventful. At least this place was free.”

  She looks up at him and smiles. “Can you try to pretend you want to be here?”

  “No,” he replies flatly.

  The guy looks like he wants to punch someone in the throat. His blue eyes are narrowed on nothing in particular, and his plump lips are set in a hard line.

  She turns to face him fully. “I want to be here. Isn’t that good enough?” she asks, placing her arms up and around his neck.

  He looks down at her, and his hard lines soften just a tad, but he doesn’t answer her.

  “Henley?”

  I spin around at the sound of my name to see Lacey running toward me. “Where did you go? I was worried sick about you.” She comes to a stop and looks at the two couples I ran into. “Oh,” she says, looking back and forth between them. “Hello. I’m Lacey.” She reaches out her right hand.

 

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