Make Your Move (A High School Bully Romance): Hannaford Prep Year Two

by J Bree

  Harley’s eyes narrow dangerously at him and when he opens his mouth I give him my most severe look. I don’t need the epic piles of bullshit I’ll have to face if he blabs about my fucking virtue.

  He grits his teeth and changes tactics, looking around the table at everyone. “We decided Lips is in, right? Avery and I vouched for her, Blaise has come around, and Ash may still be a stubborn dick but we all know she’s in. So, are we going to accept some dickhead chasing her tail, begging for sex, or are we going to remind the sheep of where they belong?”

  My chest tightens and I fix my eyes on the pristine white surface of the kitchen counter. Avery squeezes my arm but I’m shocked when it’s Ash that speaks. “We’ve gone from three people on the planner to pure fucking bedlam. Joey, Harlow, Annabelle, Lance, dozens of little bitches from the stupid fucking website. We need to get on the same page and decide what our priorities are. Is Lance going to be an issue?”

  I clear my throat. “No. I’m pissed but I’m not in any real danger.”

  Blaise opens another beer and points the bottle at me with a slow, dirty smirk. “I’ll beat the little disrespectful fuck for you.”

  Harley scoffs. “Only if you get to him first.”

  Avery laughs and leans in to whisper to me, “Better than roses, right?”

  I scrub a hand over my face to try and hide the blush. Like I need Avery teasing me about my stupid crush…well, crushes. I think I’d like roses if they came from one of these three. No, that’s a lie. Flowers are stupid, but I’d appreciate the effort. Nope, still a lie. I wish I were the type of girl that wants flowers because then maybe I’d be the type of girl Harley, Blaise, or, dammit, Ash would want to have for more than sex. Ugh. I’m going to kill Blaise for turning me into a whining bitch.

  “Joey?” Blaise asks and when Ash opens his mouth I cut him off sharply. I have a plan.

  “Sorted. Next?”

  “Harlow?”

  Avery hums softly and says, “She’ll dig her own grave eventually. Same goes with Devon. The real problem is Annabelle.”

  All eyes are on Blaise as he fidgets with the bottle cap from his beer. When no one speaks I think, fuck it, and dive in.

  “Do we need her to disappear? I…can make that happen.”

  I refuse to look at anyone except Avery. She doesn’t blink or flinch, her face doesn’t show even the tiniest bit of fear or disgust, as she looks at me with cool calculation because she really is deciding if Annabelle Summer’s needs to be removed from the board.

  “So you really do have gangster connections then?” Blaise grumbles and I flinch before I can rein it in.

  Harley punches him in the arm and he groans. “Fuck, I didn’t mean it like that, Mounty, just…I know nothing about where you come from. I guess Avery does and Harley obviously knows something but I’m trying to figure out how the fuck a sixteen year old girl can calmly, casually, offer to end someones life. Fuck, it’s not even the killing. It’s the mundane tone, like you’ve killed a bunch of other girls for pissing in your Cheerios.”

  I swallow roughly. “I know a lot of people from all different walks of life. Some of them are gangsters. I am not a member of any gangs, I do not fuck members of any gangs, and I do not owe loyalty in any manner to any gangs.”

  Harley scrubs his hand over the back of his neck. “Whatever, it doesn’t matter. We can’t kill her. She’s a dumb, manipulative bitch but she’s not Joey. If we’re killing anyone it’s him.”

  “No one is killing Joey.” Ash snaps and I guess that’s the end of that.

  Harley is running late for his swimming practice and Avery leaves for ballet soon at the same time, Ash slings a casual arm over her shoulder to walk her down.

  Blaise asks for help with his assignments and I’ve calmed down enough to help him out. After a full hour of work, I stretch out my shoulders and risk asking him the one question that’s been bothering me since his dads letters were leaked.

  “When did Annabelle get the documents? Avery said they had to be recent photos because they were dated right up until the day they were released.”

  Blaise cringes and I frown at him. “Really? Really?! It’s almost like you want to be sixteen and pregnant. Will you take the baby on tour?” I snark and instantly regret it when his face falls.

  “I didn’t have sex with her! I just let her in the room so she could cry on the couch. I didn’t know what to do, I’m not good at saying no to crying girls! I’ve been…frustrated lately. I made a shit decision because of it. I’m not exactly known for my clear head.”

  I snort at him and keep writing. He fidgets with his pen, his fingers twitchy and his face is drawn. “If you can’t settle down and focus we can leave this for the night. Your assignment is done and we’re making good progress on the workbooks. The couple of days we took off won’t affect your GPA.”

  He nods but his eyes stay on the door. I sigh and sit back in my chair. “What is it? Just spit it out.”

  He grunts and rubs his hands over his face. “I want something. I can’t have it. I’m not good at not getting what I want. I know you’re going to bitch me out for being a spoiled rich kid but it’s the truth.”

  I could do that. It’s obvious he’s been given everything on a silver platter his entire life and you could say this is finally karma happening for his shitty treatment of me. But I like talking to him, I like that he’s opening up to me so I choose to be empathetic. I know a lot about not getting what I want. Plus knowing his home life is actually pretty similar to mine growing up has given us a weird thing to bond over.

  “That sucks. I’m sorry.”

  He blinks at me and then groans. “I was kind of hoping you would bitch me out. Then I’d have a distraction.”

  I shrug and say, “I can if you want but wouldn’t you rather talk about it?”

  “I’d rather get fucking drunk and play my guitar. Harley’s banned me from playing in our room because he’s sick of my, quote, sulky tantrum whining. Apparently, I should be over this by now.”

  I chuckle at that and pack up his papers and supplies. “Go grab your guitar and you can crash on the couch tonight. Avery moved the booze to the cupboard on top of the fridge. I’ll have a shower and mix cocktails when I’m out if you want.”

  His face lights up and then falls in an instant. He stands and slings his bag over his shoulder and scuffs his boot along the floor. “Fuck, Mounty. I would. I fucking would.”

  I sigh and nod slowly, taking his hand to stand. “But Ash would be pissed if he found out you were still sleeping here?”

  “I’m making a lot of my decisions based on what my friends would think at the moment.” he mumbles.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  “I already hate everything about this.”

  I don’t bother turning around. I know the exact expression that will be on Avery’s face as she looks around the gym. I’d explained my plans to Harley during our math class and he’d handed his set of keys over to me without a word, so now we have the entire gym to ourselves. Avery has been putting me off for weeks but I’ve finally cornered her.

  In the center of the room, the boxing ring that I found Harley and Blaise in last year is still set up and I refuse to look at it because I do not need Avery questioning the blush that will absolutely color my cheeks if I do.

  I’m dressed in a pair of Avery’s yoga pants and a loose hoodie. I’ve slipped my shoes off but left my socks on because the polished wooden floor is freezing. Avery came here straight from ballet so she looks like a freaking cast member of the nutcracker. I think. I mean, I have no idea what a ballerina in the nutcracker would wear but I’m confident Avery would fit in.

  “I’m not going to teach you how to fight. I wouldn’t be good at that anyway because I don’t get into fights. I defend myself and I make calculated moves to overcome whoever I need to despite my size. That’s what I’m going to teach you.”

  I hear the door open and close but I put it out of my mind while I focus on the les
son. Avery groans and moans her way through the first part. I teach her not to tuck her damn thumb in when she makes a fist. I show her how to center her weight so she’s more stable on her feet. I teach her how to breathe when you’re afraid so your brain receives the optimal amount of oxygen. I teach her the best points to strike at and what parts of her body she should use to strike them.

  After an hour of this Avery is panting and, wonder of wonders, sweating. She looks at least slightly unkempt and I’m grinning like an idiot over it. When we stop to grab water I realize we’ve been joined by the three stooges.

  “Do they teach this in Mounty school?” drawls Blaise but there’s a flush to his cheeks.

  Ash looks conflicted and Avery trots over to talk quietly to him. I know he hates that she’s being forced to learn this but I honestly think she should’ve done this years ago. I drain the water bottle and Harley grabs it from me with an offer to refill it.

  I smile at him and then call out, “We still have more to cover, Ave’s, so get your ass back over here.”

  She groans and drags her feet. “I’m not strong like you, Lips. I can’t do this.”

  I sigh and perch against the boxing ring, crossing my arms so she knows I mean business. “You think that because you’ve always had Ash or Harley or Blaise around to protect you but you’re wrong. You exercise six days a week. Some days you do three sessions. You’ve never broken a bone, no nerve damage, and when you froze at what Rory was doing it was fear not PTSD. Physically, you are stronger than me. What I am teaching you is the basics of self defense but the most important, the most valuable thing you need is something you already have.”

  She huffs and crosses her arms but I keep going. “You’re observant and intuitive. You can look at a student and make a quick assessment of what weaknesses they have and how to exploit them to take them out. So far you’ve used that strength to socially ruin the sheep but you can easily switch to reading body language and defending yourself. You’re better at it than anyone I’ve met, you’re as good as I am. You may end up better than me at it.”

  I glance behind her to see the guys have settled back into their seats and are fixated on us. I quirk an eyebrow at Avery in question but she waves me off. “I don’t care that they’re here. But I need you to show me something real. Walk me through a situation and explain how knowledge will be better than strength or size. I need you to prove it to me so I can stop second guessing myself.”

  Hm. It’s a good idea and I’m a little pissy I didn’t think of it myself. I cringe a little at the scenario that pops into my head but the more I think about it the better it fits.

  I sigh and grab a stack of training mats. I pile them up until they’re bed height, then I slip my hoodie off and hand it over to Avery. She takes it hesitantly and pulls it over her head. She looks ridiculous and Ash snorts as he takes a photo of her in it. I dig around in my bag until I find my knife and then I slip that into the sweater pocket.

  I chew on my bottom lip and then address our audience. “Look, you guys have to stay quiet. If she’s going to learn how to defend herself you need to let me walk her through this. If you can’t hack it then please leave.”

  They all nod, somewhat hesitantly, and then I push them out of my mind. I grab Avery’s wrist, hard enough to bruise. She jumps and frowns at me.

  “The party that Joey insisted I go to first year. He told all of the juniors he was going to fuck me, one way or another. He found me walking back to the dorms and I knew he was high but I also knew he could outrun me. He’s not as big as Rory or Ash or most of the guys at this school because of his habit but drug addicts are unpredictable. I couldn’t just run.”

  There’s a deep furrow on Avery’s brow and her lips are turned down at the corners. I’ve never offered her this truth before. I had put it out of my mind months before we became friends.

  I hold up her wrist. “He held my wrist harder than this. I could feel my bones bending under his fingers and pulling away meant fighting him off with a broken wrist. So…what do you do? Knowing him, reading the situation you’re in, what do you do?”

  Avery swallows. “Play along. Get him talking and distract him.”

  I nod and tug her over to the mats. Once we’re both sitting on them I wait a minute and then continue. “Now he tells you he can fuck you by force or you can lie back an enjoy it. He kisses you. What do you do?”

  Avery’s lip quivers but her eyes stay dry. “Play along. I have no choice, he’s still got my wrist.”

  “Good.” I shove her back and cover her body with my own, careful not to crowd her or hurt her. I hear explosive swearing and a chair being thrown behind us but I keep my focus on the lesson. “Now what?”

  Avery frowns and takes stock of what’s going on. She tugs a little at her wrist that’s still pinned above her head and then wriggles a little. “Oh. The knife is in my pocket.”

  I smile and nod. She reaches in to grab it and I lower myself on her to pin her. “I grabbed it before he pushed me down so my hand was trapped. What do you do?”

  She sighs. “Gross. You can’t wrestle your arm out because he’d notice so you have to play along. What a pathetic piece of shit.”

  I snort but I’m glad she has her fire back. “Yep. Arch your back and moan a little and he’ll ease up because he wants you rubbing on him.”

  “Right.” She arches and pulls the knife out but leaves the blade covered. Then, without further instruction, she presses it to my groin. the grin I beam down at her is savage and wild.

  “Avery Beaumont, you just saved yourself. No white knight required.”

  We run through a few more scenarios and Avery’s confidence blooms. When we finish up Ash is nowhere to be seen and Harley sends Blaise off to find him then walks us to our room. I don’t think about what happened in the training session until there’s a knock at the door and I open it to find a fucking wasted Ash, swaying on his feet as he tries to stay upright.

  I shove him towards the couch, mumbling under my breath as I lock the door, “My life is now babysitting drunk, spoiled rich kids.”

  I sigh and rub my face. “Avery is in the shower, if you need to puke please tell me now so I can get you a bucket.”

  He frowns at me and, fuck, drunk Ash is adorable. My body is in danger of melting into a puddle so I step away from him only to have him snatch my wrist and tug me down onto the couch beside him. “I’m not here for Floss.”

  His voice isn’t slurred and he doesn’t look like he’s going to lose his stomach contents so I settle back into the couch. “What’s wrong? What do I need to fix now?”

  “Did my brother rape you?” He blurts out, zero tact as always. I frown at him and he rubs his eyes. “I know you walked her through it but I need to hear from you, that you got away from him. I need to know that he didn’t get away with it.”

  “He tried but I got away from him. Don’t worry about it, I’m not losing sleep over it.”

  He groans and leans forward, his elbows on his knees and his face cradled in his hands. I’m not sure what this crisis is and I find myself praying Avery will hurry up and rescue me.

  “Fuck, how can you even stand to look at me? I look just like that fucking monster. We're all the spiting fucking image of our father.” He laughs but there’s no humor in his tone. “Harley looks like my mom. He gets to look like the only good we ever had in our lives and I get to stare in the mirror at the demons who own us. Fuck, now I sound like Morrison. Someone get me another fucking drink before I start singing.”

  I stare at my own hands for a beat before answering him. “I don't think you look like Joey. I think you look like Avery and she's one of the very best humans on this earth. So yeah, looking like your mom, like Harley, would have been great but looking like Avery is pretty fucking good too. Stop having a meltdown over shit that doesn’t matter.”

  The frown is back and the adorable is only increasing in intensity. I can’t fucking breathe. He mumbles at me, “Where the fuck did you come fr
om?”

  I snort and pat his leg the way Avery does when she thinks I’m being simple. “A drug addict. Or a meth lab, depending on which specific you were looking for.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  I drag myself through another week of classes and our class loads are so stacked that we’re forced to eat dinner in the dining hall every night. I’ve gotten used to eating alone with Avery and talking about whatever fucking crisis we’re facing without having to censor myself, and I’m grouchy about having to be around the masses of spoilt assholes.

  We arrive before the guys do and I fill a tray with food while Avery grumbles at her phone. As I reach for a pitcher of the juice Avery likes my shoulder is shoved out of the way and Harlow jams herself into the line in front of me.

  “Oh, sorry Mounty, but students who actually pay to be here shouldn’t have to wait behind charity cases.” She says sweetly and I take a deep breath as I don’t slam her head into a wall.

  Avery doesn’t even look up from her phone as she casually says, “Wipe your nose, Roqueford, you’re wasting my brothers best blow on your face instead of in your blood. With any luck the next line will burst your brain.”

  Harlow sneers at her and shoves the pitcher of juice at us. “Run along and take your pet Mounty slut with you.”

  I grit my teeth and direct Avery over to our seats. The group of girls sitting there move before I can even open my mouth which is nice. If only Harlow could be trained the same way. The guys all arrive as we sit and they jostle each other as they line up for food. When Blaise throws his head back to laugh at something Harley has said I find myself grinning over at them. Ash catches my eye an sneers at me. I groan because what I really need after a hard week of study is to be snarked at by that asshole.

  “Be gentle with him today, Lips.” Avery murmurs and I frown at her, the grin just melting right off my face. “Harley had to peel Joey off him last night. The psycho is getting worse now his time at Hannaford is coming to an end. Next year he’ll have to find someone else to torment while we’re gone.”