Bully Me: Class of 2020

by Shantel Tessier

  After kissing my mom and hugging my aunt, I slip back to my bedroom. It’s Aunt Karen’s office, but we were able to add a twin bed to give me my own space. My mom took one of Aunt Karen’s guest rooms and the girls share the other. Since this is all my fault, sleeping on a twin crammed behind a computer desk feels fair.

  Especially since I kept my car.

  I’m both relieved and sickened. On one hand, it’ll be nice driving my 2018 Ford Mustang GT Coupe to school and not having to rely on my aunt to get me there. On the other hand, though, it was a gift from my father, which leaves a bad taste in my mouth. When I turned eighteen last fall, he paid cash for it and put it in my name. Some rite of passage being a man bullshit. Whatever the reason, it kept him from being able to take it away when we left. Insurance is fucking expensive, but I’ll get a job and worry about that later.

  “Everything will be fine,” I mutter to myself as I glance at the mirror Aunt Karen hung on the wall in an effort to make the office feel more like a bedroom. At least I look nice. It’s not like I’m some loser going to a new school who’ll get bullied. I’m Hollis English. All-American boy with a happy smile and a friendly attitude. Teachers love me. Students want to be me.

  It’s fine.

  Totally fine.

  Though I’d wanted to go for comfort—a hoodie and sweats—I decided on something more reasonable to make a first impression. Dark slacks. Dress shoes. Button-up shirt. I’d thought about grabbing a tie, but then wondered if it would seem too preppy. At the last minute, I decide preppy is fine if I want my teachers to take me seriously so I can get the scholarships I need. I can’t rely on Dad anymore. I snag a deep purple tie from the closet and quickly put it on like my father taught me. With my dark blond hair styled neatly and my approachable smile affixed, I deem that I look better than good for my first day of school.

  Plus, my tie nearly matches my car, and that’s a small win I’ll take for the day.

  Letting out a heavy sigh, I grab my gray pea coat, my black leather Michael Kors messenger bag, and the keys to the ’Stang.

  I’m fine.

  This is fine.

  _______________

  My new high school is insanely different than my prep school back home. For one, there are hardly any cars in the parking lot. Everyone at South Burlington Prep drove. And most of them drove something equally expensive to mine, though theirs was probably more snowy weather appropriate in comparison. Either I’m really early, or there are twelve people who drive.

  A bout of nerves makes my stomach clench painfully. I’ve been having these pains when I’m stressed. Like someone grabs my stomach and squeezes it. A few times, I’ve even puked over it. Mom says it’s nerves and for her sake, I try not to tell her anymore. She looks sick herself anytime I mention it and the last thing I need to do is make my mother sick.

  I park on the first row between an old Ford Explorer with the paint peeling off and a gray minivan. I still have twenty minutes before school starts, so maybe more kids will show up and fill up the parking lot. As I get out of my car, I cringe slightly noticing how obnoxious my vehicle looks in comparison.

  I’m just grabbing my messenger bag from the backseat when a car door slams. I dart my eyes up to find a guy in front of the Explorer staring at me. His eyes look black and wild, and coupled with the cigarette hanging out of his mouth and shaved head, he looks borderline criminal.

  “Nice purple car,” he says, his tone mocking, his cigarette bouncing between his lips.

  “Uh, thanks.” My voice sounds high. Nervous.

  “Wasn’t a compliment.”

  The guy starts walking toward the school, flicking his cigarette into the grass, when the other car door slams. I drag my stare from the wannabe convict to another guy. Rather than bored and slightly unhinged, like the first guy, this guy looks pissed.

  Dark brown hair that’s grown out long enough to hang over one of his intense eyes. Flaring nostrils. Sharp jawline that clenches. All that aggression is directed my way, but couldn’t possibly be for me considering I literally just got out of my car and have never met the guy.

  I look over my shoulder to see who he could possibly be glaring at. When I find no one, I realize all that boiling hatred is for me.

  Fucking great.

  “Hi,” I squeak out, hating how much of a pussy I sound like. “I’m Hollis.”

  “Don’t care.”

  He walks off and I gape after him. What the hell was that all about? The guy is wearing the outfit I wanted to wear—black sweats, white tennis shoes, and a gray hoodie. It’s too cold not to be wearing a coat, but he doesn’t seem bothered by it.

  I shoulder my bag and lock my car before hurrying after him. “Hey, man, wait up.”

  He stops abruptly. It gives me time to approach him. The guy’s big, at least five inches or so over my five-foot-eleven frame. His shoulders are broad and he looks like he could fuck up someone like me.

  Since he won’t turn around, I slowly circle him like one would a rabid animal. Calm. Soft tones. No quick movements.

  “I think we got off on the wrong foot for some reason.” My breath comes out in a rush. “Can we start again?”

  His head cocks to the side, his hair shifting to reveal a barbell through his eyebrow, and his honey-brown eyes bore into me. I can’t help but squirm under his scrutiny. He takes a step toward me, forcing me to take an awkward step back. His upper lip curls in disgust.

  “Are you a teacher?” His deep, sultry voice startles me stupid for all of three seconds.

  “W-What? No, I’m just a kid like you—”

  “I’m not a fucking kid,” he snaps, his brows furling with anger.

  I hold up a hand, hating that I’m already fucking this up. “I just meant…I’m sorry.” My hand shakes and of course he zeroes in on it. Quickly, I shove it into my coat pocket. “I’m new here and just wanted to introduce myself.”

  “You did. Now move out of my way.” He takes a threatening step toward me, but I stand my ground this time.

  “Listen…” I utter. “I’m not trying to piss you off, I’m—”

  He grabs my shoulders roughly and physically moves me to the side. Then, he storms past me and into the building.

  What. The. Fuck.

  “Oh, man, you screwed up,” a voice calls out as he trots my way. “Take note, new guy, don’t piss him off.”

  I slouch and scrub my palm along my cheek in frustration. “I didn’t mean to. I was just introducing myself. Trying to make a friend. You know, be a normal human being.”

  He snorts. “Spoiler alert, everyone here sucks. Except me. And apparently you. The name’s Gio Montoya.”

  I size him up quickly. Dark hair. Glasses. Small gap in his front two teeth. He’s dressed nicely, albeit a little nerdy, but he’s friendly.

  “Hollis English. Moved here from Vermont.”

  “Welcome to Hell, Hollis.” He grins. “Joke!”

  I can’t help but laugh. “Joke’s on me. I was not expecting this.”

  “Expect the unexpected around here. And stay away from guys like Roan Hirsch.”

  Roan.

  The psychopath’s name is Roan.

  A tiny thrill shoots through me knowing I now have his name despite him refusing to give it. It’s a nice name for a not-so-nice guy.

  “Don’t worry,” I grumble. “I’ve learned my lesson.”

  “His minions are just as bad. Avoid them at all costs. Terrence, Jordy, and Cal. Jordy, though, he’s a mean ass motherfucker. Touch his stupid car out there and he’ll break your nose. Just ask my buddy Richie.”

  “Thought you said you were the only one who didn’t suck around here. What about Richie?”

  Gio’s features darken. “Richie’s mom moved him the fuck out of here after that fight. I’m telling you. The Hoodlums are vicious.”

  Hoodlums?

  “Right,” I say with an exasperated sigh. “I’ll stay away. Gladly. Can you show me to Ms. Sommers? I need to pick up my schedule
and figure out where the hell I need to go.”

  “Ms. Sommers?” Gio waggles his brows. “She’s so damn hot. It’d be my honor, man.”

  So today got off to a bad start.

  No big deal.

  Everything is going to be okay.

  That lie feels extra sour in my stomach today.

  Chapter Two

  Roan

  “YOU HAVE TO come,” Sidney pleads, twirling a strand of her silky brown hair. “I know we’re broken up or whatever.” She rolls her eyes as though she doesn’t believe it. “But we can still be friends. You know it wouldn’t be Campfire Chaos without the Hoodlums.”

  “I have shit to do,” I lie, ignoring her no matter how much she tries to shove her tits in my face.

  “Ugh,” she hisses, shoving my shoulder. “When did you become such an asshole?”

  I snap my head her way and narrow my stare. Sidney tries too fucking hard. She’s been whoring herself out to the whole student body since at least the eighth grade. I would kill Roux if she even looked at a boy.

  My little sister is never allowed to turn into Sidney.

  Fucking never.

  “I said I have shit to do.” I lift a brow, waiting for her to challenge me.

  The bell for second hour rings, making several people drop into their seats.

  “Maybe I’ll just ask the new guy,” she sneers, turning back in her seat to text someone.

  Her comment boils my blood and not in the way I’m sure she hoped. I’m not jealous. Fuck no. I’m pissed. Who the hell was that guy rolling up in his Mustang like he was fucking royalty?

  Mr. Henley starts to work out a problem on the white board even though no one is paying any attention. Two minutes in, the door creaks open.

  Mustang Motherfucker walks in, making my skin burn. He has a forced smile affixed on his pretty-boy face and he saunters into the room as though it’s no big deal to be dropped into this school. My school. He looks like the kind of guy who’s used to being the big man on campus. I’d enjoy the fuck out of knocking him down a few pegs.

  “Sorry,” the guy says. “I got mixed up on where I was supposed to go.”

  “Not a problem, young man. Find a seat.” Mr. Henley waves him off as he goes back to his equation.

  The new guy—Hollis—glances around the room, looking for a place. Our eyes meet and he freezes, his smile slightly falling. He quickly darts his blue eyes away from mine and rushes to the seat in front of Sidney. She must find him cute—or the prospect of making me jealous—because she leans forward and taps him on the shoulder.

  I’m still glaring at him when Mr. Henley says my name.

  “Mr. Hirsch,” he says again, finally dragging my attention to him.

  “What?”

  The whole class sniggers.

  “Don’t what me? I want you to come solve this problem.”

  I stare at the board in irritation. Fuck no. I don’t know how to do that shit.

  “Pass,” I grumble.

  “Which is exactly what you won’t be doing if you don’t get up here and attempt this problem.”

  Hollis glances over his shoulder at me, a frown on his face.

  “Look somewhere else,” I snap.

  He jerks his head around, but I don’t miss the way his neck blazes crimson.

  “That’s enough,” Mr. Henley grumbles. “Apologize to this young man.”

  I snort. “No.”

  “Son, I will not have you—”

  “I am not your son.” I pin Mr. Henley with a dark glare that has him taking a step back.

  He huffs in exasperation. “Get out.”

  Unbelievable.

  “Hirsch, I said go,” he barks. “To the office. Now.”

  I stand with an exaggerated sigh and storm up the aisle. The preppy new fucker has some fancy bag on his desk. For some reason, I make a stupid decision my dad would be proud of and shove it off the side of the desk.

  “What the fuck?” Hollis howls.

  “Both of you!” Mr. Henley yells. “Out of my class. I will not tolerate these disruptions.”

  I cast an amused look over my shoulder at Hollis. His features go from angry to surprised to horrified. I’m quite pleased with myself by the time I make it into the hallway. It’s stupid to continually get kicked out of class, but it sure beats doing the schoolwork. I start down the hall and then footsteps follow after me.

  “My laptop is in my bag,” Hollis tells me snippily as he approaches.

  I turn on my heel and glower at him, forcing him to stop right in front of me. “So?”

  “So, it’s expensive.”

  It annoys the fuck out of me that he’s barely been at this school half a day and I’ve already encountered him flaunting his money twice now.

  “Get the fuck out of my face,” I sneer.

  He gapes at me. “What is your problem with me, man?”

  “I don’t associate with your kind.”

  My words hit their intended target because he flinches. His blue eyes flash me a wounded look before he averts his gaze. I scrutinize him openly for a moment since he’s standing right in fucking front of me. Shorter than me but built enough that he might take me in a fight. Dark blond hair that makes him appear sort of innocent. And sad eyes. How the hell a rich kid who drives a purple Mustang could be sad is beyond me. If I were rich, I’d be happy as fuck.

  He’s a rich prick and I’m me.

  Our kinds don’t play nicely together.

  I shove past him, clipping his shoulder. He lets out an annoyed groan. Stalking down the hall, I try not to think about how pissed Ms. Frazier will be. Last time I got sent to her office, I thought she was going to skin me alive. As soon as I make it to the front office, I smirk at Miss Fields, the office secretary. She’s young—fresh out of college. My buddy Cal is positive he’s going to fuck her before the year is over.

  “Frazier,” I clip out to her.

  Miss Fields gives me a snooty once-over. “Have a seat. She’s with another student.”

  I plop down in one of my usual chairs as Hollis enters. Her face lights up at seeing him.

  “Hey, honey. How’s your first day going so far?” she chirps, smiling fondly at him. “Ms. Sommers said you got into all the classes you wanted.”

  Of course she’d love the pretty new boy. If I had to guess, he has a much better chance at fucking Miss Fields than Cal does.

  “It’s fine,” he says in a bright voice that doesn’t at all seem defeated like it was moments ago. “Is it supposed to snow today?”

  While they start talking about the fucking weather, I slouch in my seat, stretching my long legs out in front of me. We have basketball practice after school and then I have to haul ass to my after school job. Mondays and Wednesdays are always long ones. And now that winter break is over and I’m no longer on vacation, I’m back to work this week.

  Ms. Frazier’s door opens and Terrence storms out. I lift my chin at him. We fist bump as he walks by, neither of us saying a word. He’s pissed, though. When Ms. Frazier sees me, she lets out a heavy sigh.

  “It wouldn’t be a Monday if I didn’t see all my favorite Hood River boys,” she grumbles. “Were you involved with the vending machine incident?”

  “Nope.” I pop the ‘P’ in an obnoxious way that makes her nostrils flare.

  “What then?” she demands. Her eyes drift over to Hollis, who’s gone quiet, and she gives him a concerned smile. “Everything going okay?”

  He shakes his head, briefly looks over at me, and then forces a smile. “I got kicked out of class.”

  Ms. Frazier blinks several times in confusion. “Why?”

  “I cursed in class.”

  Her face turns red with anger. “And why did you curse in class?”

  His eyes dart my way and then he looks at his feet. “I don’t know.”

  Ms. Frazier sees right through bullshit, though, and doesn’t believe him. “Roan,” she barks out. “What happened?”

  I clench my jaw and
shrug.

  “Both of you. In my office now. You both know me well enough to know I’m not going to let this go until I have answers.”

  How the hell does rich boy know?

  It’s his first damn day.

  With a huff, I rise to my feet and stalk past her into her office. I plop down in a chair. Hollis takes the one beside me. Where I’m all sprawled out and uncaring, he sits rigid and straight like he’s here for a fucking Harvard interview. Unbelievable.

  Ms. Frazier glares our way as she takes her seat. Without missing a beat, she launches into her lecture. “I won’t stand for disrespect at my school. Mr. Henley is fair and only asks that you show up, shut up, and do your work. It’s not that hard. Hollis, you excel at math. The fact you’re getting kicked out of algebra on your first day is uncharacteristic for you.” She hardens her eyes at me. “Roan, what happened?”

  I would get mad and accuse her of blaming me of being the perpetrator, but I know better. Ms. Frazier is one of the few people who cares about me. Mom sure as hell doesn’t. Ms. Frazier wants my account because she trusts me with the truth.

  “Henley wanted me to do a problem, but I didn’t know how to do it,” I admit with a grumble. “Then he got pissy.”

  “And how did Hollis get involved?”

  For just fucking being there.

  Annoying me.

  Looking perfect and rich. Reminding me I’m not.

  “I pushed his bag off his desk.” I challenge her with an evil stare.

  Her brows crash together. Disappointment. Fuck. I’m screwing this all up. I can’t get on Ms. Frazier’s bad side. She’s too important to my family.

  “And you cursed for that reason?” she asks Hollis.

  “My laptop is in there,” he says bitterly. “It’s expensive and it’s probably ruined.”

  Tattletale. His words boil my blood.

  “Fuck off, rat.”

  “Roan!” Ms. Frazier bellows, slapping her palm on the desk. “Enough of this.”

  I curl up my lip and give Hollis a look of disdain before turning to regard Ms. Frazier with a cool expression. “I’m sorry.”