LEGEND: A Dark High School Bully Romance (Rosewood High Book 7)

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LEGEND: A Dark High School Bully Romance (Rosewood High Book 7) Page 19

by Tracy Lorraine

The hate covering her face morphs into one of panic as she realizes that we’re going to have to give our opinion on this seeing as we’ve already been warned and she’s not so much as thought about it.

  “I hope you’re ready.” I turn away from her and look to the teacher who’s got his eyes on the two of us.

  Oh yeah, we’re definitely going first.

  “Right. Time is up. Miss Hunter, Mr Legend, why don’t you start us off.”

  I smile at him. He’s so fucking predictable.

  “Go on, you can start,” I encourage, nudging Harley’s arm with my elbow.

  “Harley…” Mr. Anderson says.

  Hesitantly, she stands. Her chair scraping across the old tiled floor, ensuring that everyone in the room turns her way.

  She stares at our teacher before looking down at me. Her eyes are wide as she clenches her fists at her sides.

  “I… um…” Mr. Anderson’s brows rise as his patience begins to vanish. “Err…” She looks down at me as if I’m going to help her but I just smile up at her as sweetly as I can manage. “So… what we thought was…”

  Her eyes flick to the board behind Mr. Anderson as if she’s even forgotten what we were supposed to be talking about—assuming she even knew in the first place.

  “Miss Hunter?” he asks, crossing his arms over his chest as sniggers begin to rumble around the room as she awkwardly shifts on her feet.

  I fight to keep my ass in the chair as she prays for the ground to swallow her up but I can’t do it. She might think I’m an asshole, and I am, to a point.

  I push my chair out behind me and stand beside her. She looks at me, probably waiting for me to make this whole situation worse but to her surprise, that’s not what happens.

  “What Harley is trying to say is that we thought if the decision went the opposite way that the Civil War would have started that much later, but that the intensity of the fighting would have been much more significant. Also that the death count would have well surpassed what happened in reality.”

  Even as I’m talking, I don’t miss the huge sigh of relief she lets out that I just got us off the hook.

  “Interesting point, Kyle.” He continues to question me and I answer him as if we were discussing this subject the whole time.

  He smiles at me before turning back to Harley. “Well, it seems Mr. Legend has saved you from an afternoon in detention. You can both sit.”

  As our asses hit the chair, he begins to question another couple.

  “How’d you do that?” Harley whispers. “How’d you know what to say?”

  “I’m not just a pretty face, Kitten.” I wink at her and she rolls her eyes.

  The second the bell rings, she all but scoops her belongings into her purse and damn near runs from the door.

  I hang back as students leave and Mr. Anderson wipes off the board and collects up the textbooks.

  It’s not until I stand and about to throw my bag over my shoulder when he speaks.

  “I know things are done differently at Creek High but here, we don’t tolerate our students trying to sabotage others.”

  I nod at him, not wanting to get into a discussion about Harley. “You got it, sir,” I mutter as I walk through the door and join the mass of students heading toward the exits for the evening.

  I head in the opposite direction of the majority as I go toward the locker rooms for a conditioning session.

  Pulling out my cell, I can’t resist sending her one more message.

  Kyle: You’re welcome!

  Her response is instant, there are no words, just a hand emoji with its middle finger in the air.

  I’m still smiling to myself when I walk into the locker room. The second I look up, I find a man standing in front of the team who I’ve only seen from a distance so far.

  “Legend,” Coach says to me as I come to a stop beside Ash. “I’ve heard good things about you from Coach West.”

  I nod at him, glad that something good might have come out of my few years at Creek High.

  “With you, Fury, and a few of our JV team this year, we might just stand a chance of living up to this year’s success. I’m going to be watching all of you over the next few weeks, Jake and the seniors too. I don’t just want good players, I want decent fucking human beings on my team. So watch your backs, ladies,” he says making eye contact with me, Ash, and the others who I know to be juniors. “If you play your cards right, you might just be able to call yourself a Rosewood Bear in the coming months.”

  Excited chatter vibrates through the group before Coach nods at Jake, who takes to the front of the crowd.

  “Don’t think it’s going to be easy, you all have a reputation to keep. Get your asses changed and get out on the field, we want to see what you pussies are made of.”

  “How competitive was your old team?” Ash asks me once we’ve broken away from the crowd to change.

  “Their biggest priorities were getting high and scoring pussy,” I answer honestly. “We were never going to win fuck all unless you count collecting STDs.”

  Ash snorts a laugh as he rips his locker open and pulls his shirt over his head.

  “What about yours?”

  “Same. My old school was a fucking jungle. I’m buzzing to take this a little more seriously.”

  “You shooting for captain?” I ask, knowing that he held the position in his old team.

  “Maybe,” he says, but a small smile twitches at his lips. “We’ll see. Why? You wanna be my assistant?”

  I think for a minute. Kane was captain at Harrow Creek High. I wasn’t there long enough to even get a chance. Do I want to follow in his footsteps and take the lead with Ash? “Hell fucking yeah I do.”

  “Damn right. This team is ours, man.” I hold my fist out and he bumps it before turning back to drag on a pair of shorts.

  20

  Harley

  Anger swirls around me like a firestorm through our first cheer practice. Although we don’t actually do much cheer because we spend most of the time listening to Chelsea and—shockingly—Miss Kelly explains what’s going to happen next and the process of selecting our new varsity squad.

  I find myself losing focus faster than ever thanks to him and his actions in history.

  Did I want him touching me? I can tell myself that the answer is no until I’m blue in the face, but really, every time his fingers so much as graze my skin, I feel alive in a way I only ever have a few times in my life. And all of those times involve him—even if I thought I was going to die during one of them.

  Ruby and Stella look at me with curious glances but I keep my lips firmly shut. They probably think I’m still stewing on the fact he let Aria kiss him at lunch. I guess I am a little. But so much has happened since then it’s almost a distant memory. Almost.

  “We heading to Ace’s?” someone asks the second we’re back in the locker room.

  “Only if the team are going,” Aria sings.

  “Whore,” Ruby mutters beside me. “We’re going to Ace’s.”

  “Uh… I’m not. I don’t want to watch her grind her ass all over Kyle.”

  Both Ruby and Stella look at me with sympathy in their eyes. Stella more so after what she walked in on earlier.

  She’d tried to get me to talk, but after all of that, I was in no mood. I’d attempted to convince her that it was fine and to drop it but I can already see that I’m on borrowed time.

  “But—”

  “No buts, Rubes. I’m not going. She can have at it.” I keep my expression neutral while inside everything clenches in disgust at even the suggestion. “Come to mine, we’ll order pizza.”

  They look at each other, the rest of the squad still discussing the team, before agreeing.

  An hour later, Poppy has joined us, and we’re hanging out on my bed with two giant pizzas between the four of us. We probably should be doing homework—I know I should be doing math—but it feels good to kick back after the day I’ve had.

  “So how many high s
chools have you been to exactly?” Ruby asks Stella.

  She sighs. “This is my fifth.”

  “Fifth?” the three of us echo.

  “Two freshman year,” she says, holding up her fingers to count. “One sophomore, and then another before I joined Rosewood.”

  “Jesus. And all across the country?”

  “Yep, New York, Michigan, Colorado, Washington, here. And that’s just high school. I’ve lost count of the number of schools before ninth grade.”

  “Fucking hell, it’s amazing you know your own name after that,” I say around a mouthful of pepperoni pizza.

  “So where are you actually from?” Ruby asks.

  “Well, I have no recollection of it, but apparently I was born in England. My dad moved us over here before I was one.”

  “What about your mom?”

  She shrugs, a sad expression washing over her face. “Dead. I think that’s why he moved. He couldn’t be there without her.”

  “Shit.”

  “Meh,” she says with another shrug, grabbing a slice of pizza. “It is what it is, gotta make the best of it, I guess.”

  “Well, I’m in awe of you,” Poppy says sincerely.

  “And you still have no idea where to next?”

  “Nope. Just that it’s coming. Dad’s not said anymore but I can sense it. I know his tells. He’s getting ready to move.”

  “We’re going to miss you.”

  “Me too. I think Rosewood might be my favorite out of all my homes. I could see myself here.”

  “Shame you don’t get a choice.”

  “Maybe I’ll come back one day. Once I’ve finished college, I am finding myself a home and I’m staying put for a very long freaking time.”

  “Don’t blame you.”

  Feeling sorry for Stella having to relive all her moves, I turn the conversation away from her and back toward cheer, much to Poppy’s joy if her dramatic eye roll is anything to go by.

  “You’d better get used to it,” Stella tells her, clearly noticing her move. “If these two get captain and assistant, it’s all they’re going to talk about.”

  “It’s fine,” she says flippantly. “I can just go over the hall and bang the assistant’s brother.”

  “Oh, you did not just say that.” I launch a cushion at her head, both of us falling about laughing.

  It feels good. So fucking good. But that all comes crashing down when my cell pings in my pocket.

  My heart jumps into my throat. Without looking, I know who it is. I can sense it.

  “You gonna get that?” Ruby asks when it goes off again a few minutes later.

  “Um…” Reluctantly, I pull it from my back pocket and find exactly what I was expecting.

  Asshole: Page 162 exercise 1a. Gimme the answers.

  Clearly I don’t cover up my feelings at seeing his words on my screen because as I’m still reading Ruby is asking who it is.

  “Just my math tutor. Wants me to work.”

  “We can go,” she offers.

  “No, no. It’s fine. He’ll have to wait.”

  “Who is it?” Poppy asks. I knew the question was coming yet still, I don’t have a decent response.

  “Some nerd I swear I’ve never seen around school before.”

  “Is he any good?”

  My head goes straight in the gutter and I’m right back in Justin’s guest room with Kyle’s head between my legs.

  My cheeks heat as I stare down at his words on my cell.

  “Ugh, yeah, he’s all right.”

  It’s probably about fifteen minutes later when another message comes through.

  Asshole: Don’t make me come over there.

  The threat makes my heart skip a beat.

  “Him again?” Poppy asks.

  “Yeah,” I say reluctantly.

  “We should go. We know how important this is.”

  I don’t get a chance to argue, not that I think they’d allow me to because they gather up the pizza boxes and the empty soda cans littering my bedroom and make their way to the door.

  “We’ll see you tomorrow,” Ruby says as she and Stella slip out of my room.

  “Call me if you need me. I’m just gonna do some homework,” Poppy adds before following them out and leaving me alone with just the cell in my hand.

  It pings again.

  Asshole: You have five minutes to respond or shit’s getting real, Kitten.

  Rolling my eyes at him, I start typing.

  Harley: I was busy, ASSHOLE. WHAT DO YOU WANT?

  Asshole: I gave you my instructions, now… I want answers.

  Harley: You’re as demanding as my mother.

  Asshole: Oh Kitten, I am so NOT like your mother…

  My body flushes hot at what he could mean and my teeth sink into my bottom lip as those memories assault me once again.

  Damn him.

  Asshole: I’m waiting.

  “Fuck’s sake.”

  Leaning over the side of the bed, I grab my purse and pull out my textbook, my workbook and a pen.

  Flipping the page open to the one he said, I groan at the sight of the exercise.

  I go through the steps like he taught me last night and fire off my answers to him.

  Asshole: First one is right. Others aren’t. You need to go through the process again?

  I fall back on my bed, tears filling my eyes faster than I can control.

  I thought I had this. I thought I’d figured it out with his instructions last night.

  Not wanting to admit defeat, I reply.

  Harley: Let me try again.

  I blow out a breath, turn to a clean page, and start over. Going through everything he told me last night. I get different answers this time but I have no idea if that’s a good thing or not. They’re probably still wrong.

  I shoot him the new answers.

  Asshole: Yes! Now, do the rest of that exercise.

  I repeat the process again and again and every time he confirms that I’ve got it right.

  I smile to myself as the latest ‘well done’ comes through, my confidence starting to grow. Maybe I can do this. Maybe I’m not destined to be a math idiot forever.

  Asshole: Ready for more…

  Jesus. Why do his messages about math send my head elsewhere?

  Harley: Hit me.

  Asshole: I’d rather not. I can think of something else I’d like to do though…

  Harley: Focus. Unless you’ve already got Aria bouncing around on you right now.

  Asshole: No, Kitten. I’m all yours.

  An excited flutter rushes through me at his words.

  “Focus, Harley. You hate him, remember,” I remind myself as I look to the next exercise. I swallow my groan when I see it getting harder. My heart starts to race and the confidence I had started to build gets knocked down.

  Kyle explains the next step of the process, and it sounds simple enough. I’ve already proved I can do the first part.

  I set to work and quite quickly come up with some answers.

  I send them to him full of hope that I’ve nailed it.

  He reads my message immediately and starts typing. My heart pounds as I wait for his response. I’ve got a really good feeling about this, a part of me thinks that if I can nail this, then I can do all of it.

  The dots bounce for ages and I start to wonder if he’s writing an essay back.

  My hope starts to wane when I realize that if they were right, he’d have already told me by now.

  A lump forms in my throat and pressure builds behind my eyes.

  Maybe I should just turn my cell off and avoid the inevitable. But just as I consider that option, it pings.

  Asshole: I’m sorry, Kitten. But I think I know where you went wrong.

  “FUCK,” I scream into my room, throwing myself back on the bed in frustration. I really thought I had that.

  Before he has a chance to say any more, I send him a message.

  Harley: I can’t do this. Sorry for wasting your
time.

  My thumb hovers over the off button but before I press it to put an end to all of this a call comes through.

  A video call.

  My hand trembles as I stare at his name.

  I can’t answer this. I’ve got tears running down my cheeks, makeup probably everywhere.

  I can’t answer—my finger swipes across the screen despite what my brain is telling me and the call connects.

  “Kitten,” he breathes when he gets his first look at me. “You were so close. Please don’t cry.”

  A sob rips up my throat at the softness in his voice and more tears fall.

  “I thought you wanted to make me cry,” I mutter, trying to turn this away from me being a total failure.

  His brows pinch as he stares at me, sympathy covering his features. He looks just like the boy I remember like this and it makes my heart ache.

  I might not have intended the outcome of that night—he may have been involved, but he was far from the main player in trying to ruin my life that night—but still, the weight of what happened to him falls on my shoulders. The reason this is the first time I’m seeing the old Kyle, the fun loving, intelligent boy who had the world at his feet, is me.

  “Not like this, Harley.” The sincerity in his voice makes my breath catch.

  We stare at each other in silence, only the sound of my shaky breathing filling my ears. No words are being said but I feel like a line is being drawn.

  “I’m… I’m sorry, Ky.”

  He smiles at me, lifting his arm to run his fingers through what I now notice is damp hair. The second he drops his hand, his hair falls straight back over his brow and I smile, liking him without the ball cap that’s constantly attached to his head.

  His ice-blue eyes pierce mine and I swear I don’t breathe as I wait for him to say something.

 

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