It’s a new day. The sun is shining, the birds are chirping, and I got a full night of sleep. Even after my three-hour nap. Mom ended up ordering my favorite pizza—thin crust with pepperoni and black olives—then I played and danced with Austin until we were both ready to pass out. I woke up this morning with a renewed determination. Thatcher Michaelson can’t win. I won’t let him have that kind of power over me. I’m going to walk into Spanish this morning with my head held high. He’s not worth my energy.
“Violet! Hey, wait up!” someone calls out as soon as I step into the front hallway. I pause.
Samantha comes rushing out of the cafeteria over to me, and I smile despite the unease in my gut. I’ve known Samantha Miles since elementary school, and she’s always been nice to me. I can’t say she’s gone out of her way to be my friend since we got to high school. Then again, no one wanted to go against Thatcher.
Joke’s on him, though. I’ve always been a bit of a loner. I’ll talk and be friendly with anyone, but I’m not the type of person who needs to be surrounded by people all the time.
“Good morning,” I coo as she comes up beside me.
She follows alongside me as I continue walking to my locker, and I grip the straps of my backpack tightly. My spidey-senses are telling me this has something to do with Thatcher, and he’s the last thing I want to talk about right now.
“So…how’s your week going?” My stomach tightens at her question and high-pitched, chipper tone.
“Good. How about you?”
“Pretty goo—” Her words stop short as she eyes someone ahead of us. I follow her line of sight to one of the junior boys from my science class.
I can understand why Aidan Shaw’s presence might be distracting. He’s cute…if you like that preppy boy look. It’s not my thing, but his umber skin tone and sage eyes practically demand your attention. In addition to looking like a freaking Hawaiian god, he’s one of the school’s star football players. I’ve never seen him on the field and have no clue what position he plays, but he always wears his Westbrook Wolverines jersey with pride. Or should I say it wears him? He does look damn fine in it.
Our stares gain his attention, and a sultry smile spreads across his face. It seems as if his eyes are solely on me, my skin heating as they travel down, then back up again.
He walks by, doing that weird chin lift thing boys do. “Hey, Violet.”
“Umm…hey.” With my mouth hanging open, I turn to watch him as he continues down the hall, walking backwards to keep his eyes on me for a few more seconds before disappearing down another hallway.
Samantha digs her fingers into my arm as she squeals, bringing my attention back to her. “Holy crap, you know Aidan Shaw?”
Pulling my arm out of her grip, I step up to my locker. “No. I mean, not really. We have Chemistry together.”
“Damn it! Why can’t I be super smart like you?”
I laugh as I grab my Spanish book out of my locker and shut it. “If it makes you feel any better, that’s the first time he’s ever spoken to me. I wouldn’t have thought he even knew my name.
Samantha’s features bunch as she sighs. “Okay…I’m going to come right out and ask. Are you dating Thatcher Michaelson?”
My stomach drops, and I blink at her in disbelief. Then, I start laughing. Loud, hyperventilating, uncontrollable laughter. Because it’s either that or crying, and I refuse. Samantha watches me with a furrowed brow as I try to calm my laughter.
“No,” I pant. “I am not dating Thatcher. I doubt he’s even the dating type, more of the love ’em and leave ’em kind of guy.”
The bitterness in my tone is a little too telling. This conversation needs to come to an end, but she follows beside me as I head toward class.
“Oh. My. God. Did you have sex with Thatcher?”
My entire body goes stiff, and I come to a curt stop. “What?” I screech. “Of course not! Jesus, Sam. None of the rumors floating around are true. There is nothing, nor has there ever been anything, going on between me and Thatcher Michaelson. Okay?”
She looks almost apologetic, until her eyes go wide as someone places their arm around my shoulders, her mouth dropping open as they place a kiss on the side of my head. All the air leaves my body in a rush.
Thatcher winks at me, smiling as if he’s my loving boyfriend. “We better get to class before we’re late, baby doll.”
My eyes narrow at him, even as my body relaxes into his embrace. He begins pulling me toward the classroom as I try to turn back to Samantha to explain, but she’s already gone.
Son of a gun. Every time I think I’ve figured out the game he’s playing, Thatcher changes the board. I’m starting to think he’s making it up as he goes along.
Chapter Seven
THATCHER
Violet twists out of my hold right outside the classroom door, and I laugh as if I’m not dying to pull her right back into my arms. “I think you might actually be a deranged person,” she says before stomping inside.
She isn’t wrong. I’m acting crazy. And though she may be the reason I’m losing my mind, it’s my own damn fault. If I’d left her alone in the first place, I wouldn’t need to feed my addiction. She’s like heroin, and I keep chasing the high. Now that I know what it feels like to have her in my arms and kiss her, I’m fucked.
First thing this morning, I saw Aidan Shaw looking at Violet like she’s a snack. I wasn’t going to let that shit fly, so when I heard Violet trying to declare she wasn’t mine, I seized the opportunity to prove the opposite. It was a dick move, but it will keep the wolves away.
Violet takes her normal seat, and I frown at the person sitting behind her. “Move,” I demand.
The tiny dude looks up with a scowl on his face, only to swiftly move out of the way when he sees me standing there. Violet groans as I sit down but doesn’t otherwise acknowledge me. When I look to my left, I see Lacey’s smug face and give her a sinister smile.
“Hey, Lace. I hear you’ve been running around school talking about me.” Her face drains of color as she shakes her head in denial, but I hold my hand up telling her not to even bother. “I strongly suggest you keep my name out of your mouth in the future. While we’re at it, leave Violet alone too.”
Violet swivels around in her chair to face me. There’s an angry glower on her beautiful face, and I can’t help smiling as I think of how fun it’d be to kiss the fight right out of her. “Don’t you dare speak for me. I can handle Lacey on my own.”
Lacey snickers beside me, and I cut my eyes at her in warning before focusing on Violet again. “Sorry, baby doll. I’m only trying to defend your honor.”
She looks like she wants to murder me, her eyes widening as she sucks in an agitated breath. Pretending not to notice, I reach out to tuck a stray hair behind her ear.
“What do you know about honor?” she hisses, swatting my hand away. “And stop calling me baby doll!”
I laugh, loving this side of my little saint. Plus, this public spat is sure to get the rumor mill going. They’re liable to have us married with a kid on the way by the end of the day. However they choose to spin it, I want one thing to be loud and clear: Violet is mine.
After third period, Cole walks up beside me and pats me on the shoulder as he laughs. “What?” I clip, not even bothering to look over at him.
“Damn…Saint is a little firecracker.”
The tug of jealousy in my chest causes me to ball my fists as I come to a stop in front of him. “What the fuck do you know about it?”
His cheeks puff as he blows out a long breath and rubs the back of his neck. “Wow, I’m going to enjoy watching her give you hell.” He stumbles back when I shove his shoulder and chuckles. “We have second period together, asshole. Remember?”
“And?” I continue down the hallway, knowing he’ll follow me even though I’m acting like a dick.
“She was giving me all kinds of shit today. Did you seriously call her baby doll in front of everyone this morning?”
>
“Yep,” I chirp.
“She’s pissed and acting like she hates you.”
I smirk, thinking about how quickly her hatred for me seems to fade the second I touch her. “Fucking Shaw was eyeballing her this morning, I had to do something.”
“Okay…but you’re going to give the girl whiplash. You can’t go from acting cold, indifferent, and sometimes even mean, to trying to stake your claim.”
My stomach sours at the thought of all the things I’ve said and done to her. “I never meant to stake a claim on her, but it’s like you said, the shit is already out there. I’m merely trying to do damage control,” I tell him, being neither completely honest nor dishonest. “Nothing has changed. I stand by what I’ve said all along: I can’t get involved with her.”
“I don’t know, man…” There’s a look of admiration on his face as he pauses, his lips curling as he scratches at his jaw. “I’m starting to think Saint can hold her own. She might even be able to give you a run for your money.”
Little does he know, I’m as terrified of that as I am of hurting her. Before I have a chance to respond, laughter echoes through the hallway. Her laughter.
I look up in search of her, finding Aidan Shaw at her side. My guts twist painfully as I watch them walk toward us. Her lips spread into a soft smile, eyes cast down as she tucks her hair behind her ear. He gets closer—too close—whispering in her exposed ear, and my head swims with a mixture of anger and jealousy.
As if she can feel my stare, her gaze lifts and settles on me. Her back straightens as her cheeks turn rosy, but she locks her glare on mine. Then she smirks, and the tension in my body eases. My little saint is screwing with me, but she won’t win this game. I’ll admit, I was tempted to fold—to push her up against the lockers and kiss her until she forgets Aidan Shaw’s fucking name—but she showed her hand. Aidan is nothing more than a bluff; I’m the one holding the cards.
Chapter Eight
VIOLET
The bell rings, and I smile to myself as I take my time putting my things back into my backpack. Almost everyone has filed out of the room by the time I finish, including Joey, who scooted by me with only a quick wave goodbye.
Thatcher is still seated as I stand, silently waiting to pounce like a predator on his prey. Only, he won’t get the chance.
After Thatcher’s little stunt this morning, I was livid. I still can’t believe he called me baby doll and acted like we’re a couple. First, in front of Samantha to make me look like a liar, then in front of our entire Spanish class, adding fuel to the rumors. Mostly, though, I was furious with my traitorous heart for fluttering at the term of endearment.
So, when Aidan asked if he could walk me to fourth period, I said yes. Not because I have any real interest in him, simply to undo what Thatcher did this morning. Pissing him off by beating him at his own game was merely a bonus. Retaliation was sure to come, though.
He played it cool during class, waiting to strike when I’m alone. Unfortunately for him, I’ve taken precautions. He will not be getting his hands on me today. Even if it feels like I’m denying myself as much as I am him.
He’s at my back as soon as I reach the door. My stomach somersaults as I frantically scan the hall for my salvation. As I consider making a run for it, Aidan steps in front of me.
“Sorry,” he pants. “I had to run from the other side of the school. You ready?”
He offers me his arm, and I breathe out a sigh of relief. Before I can manage to hook my arm around his, I’m pulled back, and Thatcher steps between us.
“She’s not going anywhere with you,” he seethes, his fists clenched at his sides like he’s ready to punch Aidan.
“Yo, man, chill,” Aidan says, lifting his hands to let him know he doesn’t want to fight. “I’m only walking Violet to her car. She said some asshole has been harassing her after school for the past couple days.”
Oh shit. He wasn’t supposed to tell Thatcher that.
My heart lodges into my throat as Thatcher turns to me, a wicked grin on his face. “Is that so? Well…I’d be happy to walk you to your car, baby doll.”
My eyes narrow, hating how much a part of me loves hearing him call me that. He’s only screwing with me. “No thanks.” I quickly dance around him. “Aidan has it covered.”
Thatcher looks like he’s ready to murder Aidan as I hook my arm around his. I’m surprised when he allows us to walk away without trying to stop us again. When we reach the doorway for the stairs, I look over my shoulder.
Thatcher is still standing outside the classroom watching us, his arms crossed and face twisted with anger. Victory feels amazing—it feels good to be the one walking away unscathed this time.
Which must be why I decide to open my stupid mouth. “Hey, Rebel!” Thatcher lifts an eyebrow, making me realize I’d called him Rebel out loud for the second time in as many days. “Checkmate.”
He smirks, his angry scowl replaced with a playfulness I’ve never seen in him before. A shiver of anticipation rocks through me. I’ve officially declared war with Thatcher Michaelson, and he fights dirty. Something tells me my heart will be the casualty.
The door to the stairwell slams behind us, and I release Aidan’s arm. Without Thatcher watching us, I have no use for it. My heart is still beating wildly against my ribcage, keeping me quiet as we descend the stairs.
When we reach the landing, Aidan breaks the silence. “So, what’s going on between you and Thatcher?
He holds open the exit for me, and I take in a greedy breath of fresh air as I step outside. My kneejerk response is to tell him nothing, but I’m not so sure that’s the case anymore. Something seems to be happening between us, though I have no clue what the hell it is.
“I’ve got to be honest, your silence isn’t bringing me much comfort,” Aidan teases as he follows me to my car.
“I’m sorry. If I told you nothing, would you believe me?”
He chuckles. “After what I witnessed back there, probably not.”
My stomach knots because he’s right. There’s no denying whatever this thing is with Thatcher. Though, something tells me Aidan is less concerned with me defining things with Thatcher than he is with knowing where that leaves him. I should feel guilty for using him, but Aidan hadn’t even glanced my way until the rumors about Thatcher started. His intentions likely aren’t that honorable either.
“Well, I can tell you I’m not dating Thatcher. Or anyone, for that matter,” I offer as we come to a stop next to my car.
Aidan’s face lights up with a boyish grin, and it’s enough to make any girl swoon…except me apparently. I don’t understand. Aidan is so freaking cute. And from the little we’ve talked today, he seems like a decent guy. He’s funny, charming, and smart. Yet…there’s not even a glimmer of the tingly feeling I get from Thatcher.
“Good, because I’m hoping you’ll give me your number.”
I hesitate, shifting from one foot to the other as I chew on my bottom lip. It doesn’t seem fair for me to drag this thing out or give him false hope. But giving someone your phone number isn’t a big deal, right? Other teenage girls do it all the time. Even if he calls—which he probably won’t—it doesn’t mean I’m required to talk to him. Once the rumors about Thatcher die down, I’ll go back to being invisible.
“Sure. Okay.”
He fishes his phone out of his back pocket, unlocks it, and hands it to me. My hands shake as I quickly put my number in, giving away how freaked out I am by all this. I give him his phone back, and he types something before stuffing it back in his jeans.
“I sent you a text, so you’ll have my number too,” he explains.
I dig in my backpack for my keys, desperately wanting to flee. As soon as they’re in my hand, I hit the unlock button on my fob. Aidan reaches past me for the door handle, invading my space as he pulls it open for me. The musky scent of his cologne is a little overwhelming at this proximity—much different than Thatcher’s subtle smell of fresh linen.
“It was my pleasure. If you show me who this guy is, I’ll be happy to make sure he never bothers you again.”
My face heats. There’s no way I can tell him I was talking about Thatcher. It would open a whole can of worms.
“No, it’s fine. I’m sure he’ll get bored and move on.”
That had been the plan—for Thatcher to leave me alone. Or so I thought. If that was what I wanted, I would’ve played my hand differently. After today, he’s probably more invested than ever. There’s this side of me eager to see what he’ll do next. Sure, my emotions have been through the wringer, but I feel alive.
“All right. Well…I’ll talk to you later?”
I force a smile on my face, hoping I look happy at the prospect instead of terrified. He gives me another full tooth grin, then leans in and gives me a kiss on the cheek before I even know what’s happening. I jump into the driver’s seat, not releasing another breath until he closes my door.
He jogs off as I start my car, and my body starts to heat, feeling Thatcher’s stare. My eyes scan the nearly empty lot, not finding him until I put my car in reverse and check my rearview mirror. My stomach drops.
Thatcher is in his car two rows back, sitting stock still with his eyes on me. My pulse drums in my ears as I continue to make my way out of the parking lot. Though…I’m not sure if it’s fear or excitement running through my veins.
When the Saint Falls: a high school bully romance (Westbrook three Book 1) Page 4