Pariah: A High School Bully Romance - Bridal Creek High Book 1

by K. Walker

  Pariah

  Bridal Creek High Book 1

  K. Walker

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

  Copyright © 2020 by K. Walker

  This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead is purely coincidental. K. Walker holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Also By Kylie Walker

  Follow the Author

  Chapter 1

  “It’s a beautiful night, isn’t it?”

  “Mom, you say that every night,” I groaned as we walked along the lonely strip of road a couple of blocks from where she works at the diner. She has her purse flung over her shoulder, and her hands cupped to her lips as she tried to light a cigarette.

  “Mom, I thought you were going to quit,” I chastised her and yanked the cylinder of cancer from her.

  She looked like she was about to get mad for a minute, and then she sighed. “Baby girl, after everything I’m going through, just to make sure you get out of this shitty life, I’m entitled to one cigarette.”

  “Oh yeah? Well, I’m entitled to one mother,” I argued back and made a show of flicking it away.

  She shook her head. “You just wasted fifty cents,” she said and turned her head away from me.

  I smiled as I looked at her. Her hair looked exactly like mine, a deep, blonde color that’s caught at the back of her neck. I usually wore mine down.

  She still wore the diner uniform, and she stuffed her hands inside the white pockets on the faded grey background. I knew she had it tough, ever since Dad died. She had given up everything for me, and I hated to see the stress lines at the corners of her eyes and the worry creases that painted her forehead.

  She was only thirty-nine – she had a lot of years left in her. There was no way she should look so worn at that age, so I worried about her like any good daughter would.

  I would make something of myself, and I’d get us out of the shitty trailer park we lived in. Miami wasn’t big enough for my dreams. I’d be mom’s savior, I thought, and then hugged her around the middle. She smiled and kissed the top of my head before slipping her arm around my neck.

  “Everything’s going to be alright, baby girl,” she said. “You just wait and see.”

  “I’m waiting, but I’m not seeing,” I joked as we turned onto Wallace Avenue. “I hate this block. Do we have to go through here?”

  “It’s the quickest way home, honey. And my feet hurt,” she said as we looked around suspiciously. It wasn’t one of those parts of town where anyone wanted to be late at night. But lately, the cops had been making routine patrols, so people had started taking chances of walking through there. I wasn’t one of them. I still hated the way the walls seemed to close in on me on either side of the narrow stretch of road.

  The only sound you could hear was our breathing, and the thuds of our heels as our feet hit the pavement. I kept turning around like I expected someone to jump out at us at any minute.

  Mom giggled. “You’re very paranoid.”

  “You should be, too. Let’s just walk faster,” I said nervously and picked up the pace.

  “Okay,” she said, and she took my hand as she started walking faster, too, if only to make me feel better.

  I sighed and stared out the window at the soft, white clouds that drifted by. The roar of the plane’s engine was loud, but it had been easy to drown it out – the noises in my head were so much louder.

  I toyed with the zipper on my jacket as I stared out the window at the large expanse of blue nothingness, and for a moment, I felt free, like nothing weighed me down.

  Like I had the perfect life still.

  And a mother.

  I missed her so much, and I hugged myself as her face drifted into my memory, her warm smile, the way her toffee-brown eyes lit up even when she’d had a long day at the diner handling rude customers. I would meet her sometimes if she had an early shift, and we would walk home together.

  That was all over now. There would be no more long walks at night. No more telling me to do the dishes when I didn’t feel like it. Now, I wished I had listened to her a lot more – that I had been the daughter that I could say for sure made her proud.

  I shivered when I remembered the funeral. I couldn’t look at her still corpse lying in the coffin. Aunt Celine had tried to comfort me, but truly, how could anyone? And least of all, the aunt I hadn’t seen in over thirteen years. She had been like any other stranger with pastel-blank faces offering me rote condolences because it was the proper thing to do.

  I didn’t remember her, but she had come for the funeral, and to take me back home with her. It was either that or spend my last year as an underage teen in a group home. I had no one else – it was just her. And I didn’t know anything about her, or California. But here I was, on the plane, heading there anyway.

  I’d never been anywhere outside Miami. Not really – one trip to Fort Lauderdale, and another to Orlando when I was much younger, but that was it. California was a big change, and this was no trip. I was walking into my new life, and I had no clue what to expect.

  What was even worse was that I would start school on Monday – Bridal Creek High.

  Great! New school. New life. New everything.

  It should be more exciting than what I was feeling. In fact, I wasn’t feeling anything at all. I was still numb.

  I sighed, laid my head on the headrest and rolled it towards the aisle. A little girl across from me, about five-year-old, was trying to pull down the tray. Her mother was trying to help her, but she was making a fuss about wanting to do it herself.

  “See,” she said proudly when she finally did it. “I told you I could do it by myself.”

  A tear rolled down my cheek as I remembered my own mother, and I quickly brushed it away.

  “Excuse me,” someone said from right in front of me, except I hadn’t seen when she had materialized there.

  I looked up through foggy, tear-filled eyes and saw the flight attendant smiling down at me from bright, red lips. “Sorry, did you say something?” I asked and blinked back the evidence of my sadness. I didn’t need pity from anyone else. I’d had my fill.

  “I’m sorry if I woke you.”

  “Oh, no, I wasn’t sleeping,” I smiled back at her.

  “I was just checking if you needed anything,” she said. Her eyes were kind and her countenance as bright as the red uniform she wore.

  “Um, maybe a bottle of water, thanks,” I replied.

  “Okay. I’ll be right back,” she said and walked slowly away, checking the other passengers as she returned to the back of the airplane.

  I turned my attention once more to the clouds outside. At least they provided a temporary means of escape. I was sitting by myself in a two-seater row – maybe the other passenger changed their mind
. It worked out great for me. I had seen the movies and I could do without a chatty or nosy neighbor.

  “Here you go, miss,” the flight attendant said when she returned after a couple of minutes. “Sorry for the wait.”

  “No problem,” I told her.

  “Is there anything else I can get you? Travel pillow? Earbuds?”

  I showed her my earbuds. “All set,” I smiled.

  “Great. Well, just let me know if you need anything.”

  I nodded at her and she walked off again. I needed things alright, but none she could give to me. I sipped some of the water and plugged in the earbuds. Maybe music would help – I had another five hours to go.

  My first time on a plane and it had to feel like I was flying to Japan. I was bored as hell, and it already felt like I had been flying for ten hours, even though it had only been for a little over an hour.

  Maybe I should have taken up the flight attendant on her offer of a travel pillow – I was already feeling the effects of sitting upright in a semi-comfortable position. Anyway, I was used to a lot worse, so I slid down into the seat and took out my phone.

  I looked up my playlist and settled into the seat, my eyes closed, as the soothing sounds of Sade’s Smooth Operator started to play. I tapped my finger on my thigh to the rhythm as the mellow sounds embraced me like my mother used to.

  This was one of her favorite songs, and the playlist had several of them. We used to listen to music and dance around the trailer, especially on weekends, when we were cleaning.

  Her death was still fresh, and my eyes watered again as I remembered that I would never see her beautiful face again. I tapped the stop button, and the silence consumed me. I looked out the window as the tears started to flow again. My heart felt like it was constricting like someone had their hand over it and wouldn’t stop squeezing.

  I coughed and clamped my hand to my chest as it tightened.

  This can’t be my life now. She can’t be gone.

  I wiped my hand down my face and looked across the aisle to see the little girl staring at me. As soon as she realized I had seen her, she smiled and waved. I was forced to smile and wave, too, but she helped my mood a little.

  Children have that way about them, and I was glad for the emotional reprieve. I rocked my head back again and closed my eyes.

  “No! No!”

  Fear gripped my chest, and I struggled against the strong arms that pinned me to the wall. I was going to die, but I wasn’t going to make it easy for him.

  I couldn’t see his face. He had a black ski-mask on, covering everything but his eyes and his stale, fishy breath.

  “Don’t make me do it, little girl,” he said in a gruff voice.

  “What do you want?!” I screamed and wrestled against him. “Leave me alone! I didn’t do anything!”

  He laughed in my ear. “You don’t have to do anything,” he sneered. “Sometimes, it’s who you know.”

  “Who, I know?” I was confused. None of what he said made sense. But I didn’t have time to figure that out. He had a knife to my throat, and I didn’t know what the hell was going on. All I knew was I needed to get the hell out of there. I needed to run!

  I mustered up all the courage I could, knowing that could be my last act. I pulled my knee back and hammered it into his crotch. He doubled over, and the knife clattered to the pavement.

  “You little bitch!” he said and grabbed after me.

  I fell and hit the pavement hard, and I tasted the blood as my teeth connected with the inside of my lower lip. My head felt like it was on fire when he grabbed me by my hair and pulled me to a stand. I clawed at him as he bent to retrieve the knife.

  I twisted and turned, trying desperately to get free. I, at least, had to see the face of the man who was going to kill me. As soon as he pulled himself upright, I reached for the mask and yanked it off. He swiped instinctively, and the blade connected with my collarbone.

  The sharp pain ripped through me, and I clutched the spot he had cut open. Blood seeped through the gash, and I whimpered as his hold on my hair tightened.

  “Look what you made me do,” he accused as the tears stung my eyes.

  His face didn’t look like I’d expect. He looked like an ordinary construction-type man, with stubble for a beard, and shifty eyes that flashed with anger. He had a burn mark on his left cheek, and the one thing I could think of was, that was what my death looked like.

  I glanced behind him, at the other man coming at me, and my hands clamped over my mouth as a blood-curdling scream ripped from my lungs.

  “Ma’am?!”

  I jumped up and looked around when my body registered the voice cutting through my terrible dream. I was still on the plane, but I must have dozed off. I was in a daze for a minute, blinking rapidly as I clawed at my senses to gather them in place fast enough to make a lucid response.

  “Ma’am?”

  I looked up to see the same flight attendant. “Yes,” I said and pinched the grogginess from my eyes.

  “You were screaming. Are you alright?”

  “I am,” I said and shuffled nervously when I realized she wasn’t the only one watching me. “Bad dream.”

  “Okay,” she smiled. “The pilot just announced we’re going to land in a couple of minutes. You need to buckle up, okay?”

  “Okay, thank you,” I said and reached for the belt right away.

  She walked away to check with other less concerned passengers now, and I wiped my hand down my face again. I stared out the window at the miniature buildings as they came into view.

  So, this is what San Francisco looks like.

  My heart started beating rapidly again as the pilot made another announcement, and the buildings started to get bigger the closer we got.

  “Here goes nothing,” I muttered when the wheels touched the runway, and my new life officially began.

  Chapter 2

  I felt like the proverbial fish out of the water as I wheeled my single carryon through the winding passageways that led to the terminal I’d be exiting.

  It was the end of summer, which meant there were a lot of students coming and going, and even more parents waving them off or receiving them.

  Meanwhile, I was alone and never felt more so. I adjusted the strap on my backpack and adopted a tunnel-vision outlook as I read the red, lit signs that showed my way out of that chaotic hell hole.

  Every other person I passed was grinning, or hugging, or chatting animatedly. I felt like a shadow of myself as I walked through the checkout point. I wondered if Aunt Celine was already waiting for me and if she would be happy to see me again. I still didn’t know if her calm and assuring demeanor at the funeral was real or made-up like everyone else.

  She had to take me in – I didn’t know if she actually wanted me. I knew nothing about her other than she and mom hadn’t talked in years. When I had seen her at the funeral, she’d been like a stranger. I wasn’t sure I would even make her out among the bobbing heads and cherubic faces crowding the San Francisco International Airport.

  I stood inside the glass revolving doors and slipped my phone from my cross-body satchel.

  Hi. My flight’s landed. I’m waiting by terminal two.

  Okay, sweetheart. I’ll be there in five minutes.

  Great. Thanks.

  Sweetheart? Was she being real or just slinging words on my first day?

  I inhaled sharply and walked through the doors, escaping the cool indoors of the airport and stepping into the warm California sunshine.

  I stood a couple of feet from the curb and positioned my carryon so I could sit on it while I waited. I wasn’t sure what I was waiting for – what kind of car – and I tried to remember what Aunt Celine looked like. All I got were flashes as I tried to ignore the happy sounds around me. I wished I could participate, but nothing came out of me but sighs until I rested my elbows on my thighs and cupped my face as I waited.

  The sun was penetrating my denim jacket, so I stood and was removing it whe
n I noticed a white limousine pulling closer to the curb.

  Lucky bastards, I thought grudgingly and tied a knot around my waist with the jacket sleeves.

  I looked up again and saw Aunt Celine hurrying towards me. “Hello dear,” she said graciously as she caught me in an embrace.

  She looked just like Mom – how could I have missed that? Funny, the things grief did to you.

  She pulled back, and her plump lips wore a wide grin. “Are you all set? Is this everything?” She was petite and looked like a doll in her jeans and boots. She was sporting a top that fell off of one of her shoulders, revealing the strap from a camisole, or bra, underneath.

  She looked more like a porcelain doll-like she would crack if she hit the ground.

  “Unfortunately,” I replied, and smiled sheepishly. “Where did you park? I didn’t see…” I said and searched behind the limo.

  “Oh, over here,” she said and took my hand as she led me away.

  “Wait, my stuff!” I said aloud and tried to stop.

  “Oh, no,” she said. “Danny’s got them.”

  “Who’s Danny?”

  I looked behind me and saw a large, heavyset man picking up my bags. When he stood and turned, he was wearing a pleasant smile as he walked past us and toward the limousine.

  My jaw hit the pavement. “That’s our ride?” I asked in disbelief.

  “It is,” Aunt Celine said as she led the way to the door, Danny held open for us.

  Wow! I said that in my head just so I wouldn’t give away just how blown away I was. Maybe it was a loaner. But who loans a limo? I didn’t know anything about my aunt, but clearly, she was loaded—a lot more than Mom was.

  I began to get curious about where she lived. Back in Miami Dade, it was all aluminum and RVs. It might be nice to live in a real house for a change. But hell if this wasn’t some change.