Feisty: A High School Bully Romance (Midpark High Book 1)

by Candace Wondrak

  Archer’s frown deepened into a scowl, and he turned his head away. “That’s what I thought.” It was all he said to me, all he would say, apparently.

  I settled into my seat, trying to hide my own frown. Knowing Archer was upset with me, knowing he thought I was with Oliver Fitzpatrick—as in banging that fifty-year-old dude—made me annoyed. First off, the only one I’d banged in Midpark was him. Archer, not Ollie. Secondly, we weren’t together, so technically it wasn’t any of his business who I was banging or not. Thirdly…thirdly, I just wanted things to go back to normal with Archer and I. His grins, his sarcasm, his laugh.

  Was it stupid to miss his laughter?

  Probably. The whole thing was stupid, because a girl like me could never get a guy like Archer. I’d been stupid to give into passion before, utterly naive to think that nothing would change between us afterward. This was what I got, what I deserved for being so foolish.

  Ugh.

  It just sucked, because I…in spite of it all, in spite of how annoying he was currently being, I liked him.

  I liked Archer Vega a lot.

  Chapter Fourteen – Jaz

  Choir was…actually not bad today. We got to use the period as a study hall because the teacher had to go pick up her kid from the elementary—he got sick or something—and she was dropping her kid off at home and then coming back in. I wondered if all teachers got away with shit like that, or if it was just the choir teacher, because she kind of had her own hall in the back of the school, along with her own set of backdoors.

  Bobbi sat next to me, working on what looked like math homework. She suggested we work on helping me and my lack of skill in reading sheet music, but right now it was hard for my mind to focus on anything other than the current obstacle in my life: money.

  I needed money. Where the hell was I going to get it from? Now would be a really good time to magically come across a filthy rich friend or something.

  I had a little over two days to get a grand. People around here probably shit out money like that, but for me, that was a lot. It was a lot, and I had no idea what to do.

  My face must’ve looked perplexed, for Bobbi set down her pencil and asked, “Is something wrong? You don’t look so good.”

  “I’m fine,” I said, albeit a bit too quickly. “I just…there’s a lot going on. I don’t know if I’ll be able to meet this week after school.”

  Bobbi nodded, her highlighted auburn locks falling into her face, which she quickly tucked behind her ears. “What about this weekend? I could come over your house, or you could come over mine—”

  Frankly, either one of those sounded miserable, but there was no way I’d tell her that.

  “I’ll look at the sheet music when I can,” I promised. If all else failed, I’d just mouth along the words during our concerts…and fail the ‘tests’ Ms. Haber gave us randomly. She pulled three students from the general class, took them into her office, and made them sing a verse of whatever we were learning. If she didn’t hear you singing, then you automatically got a zero.

  Ugh. I knew I should’ve just quit choir. More stress was the last thing I needed, and an F on my report card wasn’t a good thing. Mom would kill me.

  “As long as you know your part by the concert, you’ll be fine,” Bobbi said, sounding sure of herself. “We still have three and a half weeks until then. That’s plenty of time. Maybe we can meet a few days next week.” Thankfully she didn’t push the whole meeting over the weekend thing, which was good, because neither one felt like an option. Not this weekend.

  Not ever, really.

  “Yeah,” I told her. “I’m sorry. This week just isn’t good for me.” That wasn’t exactly a lie.

  Bobbi still stared at me, her hazel eyes practically peering into my soul, as if she could see that I was hiding something from her. “You know what else happens in February?”

  Oh, God. Was there something else I had to prepare for, too? What more could there possibly be?

  My face must’ve given my thoughts away, because Bobbi laughed. “It’s nothing bad. It’s not another concert or anything.” Her lips were curled in a smile. “The winter formal.”

  Ah, a dance. Lovely. That was not something I would look forward to. In fact, that was something that Jazmine Smith would steer clear from until her dying breath. No dances for me. No disappointments for me, because surely there would be some. It wasn’t like any guy would ask me, and I sure as hell would never ask someone. I might be bold, but I was not that bold. I mean, look how Archer turned out. We’d fucked, and now he thought I was sleeping with Ollie, too.

  Yeah, no thanks.

  “Do you go to those things?” I asked, leaning back in my chair. The hard metal dug into my back, but I didn’t care. These chairs were not comfortable no matter how you sat in them; the pains of being a folding chair in a room that constantly needed to be moved around.

  “Those things?” Bobbi echoed, still smiling. “Yeah, I do. You saw that picture of me at homecoming with Brittany and her crew.” She shook her head, muttering, “They went around and took pictures with everyone. Out of literally everyone in the whole school, my look was voted to be the ugliest. Can you believe it?” She chuckled, although it was a dry sound.

  Right. Totally forgot that. My bad.

  “Everyone goes to the dances,” she finished, shrugging, done talking about Brittany.

  “Surely not everyone,” I mused. Wondered if Vaughn went to the dances, if he asked anyone. He did look ridiculously handsome in a suit, even with those hand tattoos…wouldn’t mind those hands holding me close, but that was a daydream to be locked away and never thought of again.

  You’d think I would’ve learned my lesson after Archer and his one-eighty, but nope. I didn’t.

  “Pretty much everyone,” she said, shrugging. “The best part is dressing up and making fun of everyone else’s dance moves.”

  “Have you got a date yet?”

  “No, I usually go stag. It’s more fun that way.”

  I wasn’t sure how a dance could be more fun if you went to it alone, but maybe she was right. I’d never been to a dance before, mostly because I didn’t see the point. Mom and her no-dating rule. Of course, her rule didn’t stop me from hooking up and dating occasionally, but it always fizzled out at the end.

  Things with me never lasted, though sometimes I did wonder if I sabotaged them purposefully, not wanting to end up like my mom. A single mother working hard just to make ends meet.

  She playfully bumped shoulders with me. “You should come. It’ll be fun.”

  I gave her a smile that probably looked as fake as it felt. “I’ll think about it.” Hint: I wouldn’t. I wouldn’t think about it at all. If I could just keep my head down and survive the last six months of senior year, that would be great.

  When the bell rang, I all but ran out of the classroom. Bobbi seemed content to keep talking about the winter formal, but my mind was still on this week’s problem: the money. I had to get money, fast. I’d checked online for some local jobs, and there was nothing that would pay well. All part-time jobs that, frankly, would take me forever to save up.

  Walking through the halls, I avoided bumping into anyone as I made it to my locker. Since Midpark was so big, some kids were hurrying to their next class, and others, like me, were heading to lunch. I shoved in my books and took out my bagged lunch, not even that hungry. My mind was so focused on the money that the last thing I wanted to do was eat my cheese and crackers.

  Yes, I had cheese and crackers every day. It was simple, easy, and Mom could pack it for me while whipping up Ollie’s morning coffee.

  My feet slowly drew me to the cafeteria, and I shuffled to the table I shared with Vaughn. It wasn’t like I could ask him for money. It was possible he’d forgotten my inquisitiveness about him and his brother and their business with Ollie, but maybe not. He knew he didn’t tell me everything, and after seeing those ashes in the other study…

  Something wasn’t right here, and
I had to know what it was. I didn’t like walking around, being blind.

  Vaughn had bought a lunch today, today’s meal pizza. Just pizza, as if two pizza slices were enough of a meal. For me it would be, but for him? I’d make a joke about teenage boys eating lots, but Vaughn hardly ever ate everything that was on his trays during lunch.

  I sat across from him, slowly unrolling my bag, not saying a single word as I reached for my crackers.

  Eyes so dark they were nearly black, Vaughn watched me with bored disinterest. I never could tell what was on his mind, and it unnerved me. He was good at masking his feelings…or maybe he didn’t have many feelings to begin with.

  Apparently around here, you never knew.

  “You seem stressed,” Vaughn commented, his tattooed hands picking the pepperoni off his pizza piece by piece, bringing them to his mouth.

  “I don’t like being kept in the dark,” I muttered. Letting out a sigh, I met his dark stare and added, “I feel like everyone is keeping things from me, and it’s bothering me.”

  “I’m sure people had secrets where you came from, too.”

  “Sure, but not secrets about past wives or shady businesses—” The latter caused Vaughn’s expression to change, and I froze, wondering if I’d said too much, lumped him and his family in with Ollie when I shouldn’t have.

  Whoops. Sometimes I said things without thinking. A bad habit of mine.

  Vaughn’s look was serious, and he leaned forward on the table, the intensity on his face making my insides coil tightly. “What shady business do you think my family is in, Jaz? Because I can guarantee it has nothing to do with you.”

  “I just want the truth.” And it’s true—give me the truth about everything, and I’d be fine. I’d sit back and watch my last months as a high school senior pass me by. But hide things from me? Keep things from me? I was liable to bounce off the walls trying to figure out the truth, and I meant the truth about everything and everyone. I didn’t like playing games.

  “Sometimes the truth is better off hidden,” Vaughn muttered, frowning slightly. “Sometimes when you find out the truth, you realize you would’ve been better off just leaving it be.” Trying to get me to drop it, probably.

  I met his frown with one of my own. “So if I were to hire a private investigator and have him look into your family, what would happen?” Obviously I wasn’t going to get any info from Vaughn. He’d been not-so-forthcoming once he realized he had shit to hide, too.

  Could I take anyone in this town at face-value?

  “Don’t,” Vaughn warned. “My family doesn’t take kindly to people sticking their nose where it doesn’t belong.”

  “Then tell me what you and your brother were talking about with Oliver,” I started.

  He shook his head, his black hair swaying slightly. “I can’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I just can’t.”

  I wanted to get up and walk away, but then I’d have nowhere to go. Vaughn needed to know I was serious, but he held all the cards right now, not me. I wouldn’t hold a single card until I knew the truth.

  “If you go digging up graves,” Vaughn spoke quietly, his voice a deadly kind of intense, “you’ll find nothing but skeletons, and you’ll only anger the people who put those skeletons in the ground in the first place.”

  Words that were probably wise and rooted in truth, but still I couldn’t let it be. My gut told me something was going on around here, and I had to figure it out. I had to find out the truth, otherwise…otherwise what? What if this was all me trying to prove to my mom that we shouldn’t be here? What if this was me being a rambunctious kid, seeking to prove I was right and my mom was wrong?

  I didn’t want to be like that, but I also couldn’t just sit idly by.

  “Maybe you’re right,” I started, meeting his eyes. “Maybe it’s a mistake to want the truth, but I can’t stop. I’m going to find out the truth, one way or another, and you can either help me or not. Either way, I don’t care.”

  That was…a lie of sorts, because I didn’t want the boy across from me on the opposite side. I wanted him on my side, with those hands…

  I really needed to stop thinking about those hands.

  I grew more frantic as the hours ticked by, as Tuesday turned into Wednesday. Mom was being extra paranoid about me, constantly throwing me worried looks anytime she passed me in the house. She even demanded a freaking hug before I got out of the car that next morning.

  I gave it to her, because what the hell else was I supposed to do?

  Heading inside the school, I kept my head low. Most everyone usually stood outside in the cool air talking or headed to homeroom early. I planned on doing the latter—at least until I spotted an insanely cute boy standing near my locker. He still wore his coat, his bag slung over his wide shoulder, meaning he hadn’t even stopped at his own locker yet. His blonde hair was covered in a hat, and I stopped twenty feet away, wondering just why the hell Archer Vega was by my locker.

  Also, how did he know where my locker was? I never told him.

  Well, there was nowhere else to go, so I might as well just face the music.

  I walked up to him, holding my head high. Archer was well over six feet, a giant, and he had muscles to match. Honestly, I didn’t think anyone else could even compare to him. His looks could stop any girl dead in her tracks, and they damn well nearly stopped me—and I knew what he was packing under the hood. He was just as impressive without clothes as he was with them.

  “Archer,” I spoke, an obviously fake enthusiasm dripping from my voice. “To what pleasure do I owe this little visit?” Oh, dear lord. I wanted to smack myself. No teenager in the history of history had ever sounded as stupid as me.

  Archer’s blue eyes fell on me, slowly checking me out. To my utter shock, his lips curled into a smile and his dimples appeared. Yes, those fucking dimples could get me anytime, anywhere. Literally knock me off my feet.

  Okay, well, maybe not literally, but close.

  “I’ve kind of been an ass,” he said, one of his hands resting on his bag’s strap.

  I would not argue with him there.

  “I’m sorry about what I said yesterday. I just…I heard some things and I…” Archer shook his head. “I know it’s no excuse. I shouldn’t have said that.” Referring to Ollie being my sugar daddy. An apology was definitely merited.

  I shrugged, even though his comment had hurt me yesterday, I couldn’t blame him too much. If he thought I was with Ollie, he probably thought me hooking up with him was a mistake. Don’t get me wrong, it kind of was, but at the same time, I wouldn’t take it back. It felt hella good at the time. It’d been a long while since I’d lost myself like that.

  A very, very long time.

  “It’s fine,” I said.

  “No, it’s not. I couldn’t stop thinking about it yesterday,” Archer spoke, his blue gaze shaking with emotion. He really did feel awful about it, and I was half expecting him to drop to his knees and beg me for my forgiveness at this rate. “I feel really shitty about it.”

  Again, I shrugged, because what else could I do? “It’s really fine. I just…I’ve been worried that you thought what we did—” I had to lower my voice at that, because it wasn’t like I wanted every Joe and Sarah walking by to overhear our conversation. “—meant that I’d be, like, all over you.” The stereotypical girl after sex, or at least that’s what most guys thought.

  The truth was girls just wanted to have fun sometimes, too.

  “I don’t want things to be weird between us,” I added.

  “I don’t want things to be weird, either,” he repeated, nodding along. He reached to his head and tore off his hat, his blonde hair sticking every which way—the cuteness overload making my lower gut warm.

  And other places, but let’s not think about those.

  “My friend is having a party on Friday,” he said. “Parents will be out of town. I was hoping…” Archer paused, coughing to cover his awkwardness.
“I was hoping you’d come with me.”

  As…as a date?

  For a moment, all I could do was stare up at him and wonder: was this really happening? Was I really getting asked to my first-ever party? I’d seen these things in the movies and television shows, but never had I ever been formally invited to one. Crazy house parties were real things people had? Who knew?

  My mom would never let me go. Never.

  Still, I was eighteen, so technically I could do whatever the hell I wanted, and if that was going to a party, that meant me going to a party against her wishes. Doing something I wanted to do instead of blindly following her.

  Huh. Maybe that party could help get my mind off how badly I failed at acquiring money. I would never work with Jacob Hall, but maybe that was for the best.

  Since I was so lost in my head, Archer said, “Think about it, okay? I can pick you up at seven.” He said nothing else, though he did flash me a dimpled grin before leaving, a pep in his step that wasn’t there earlier.

  All I could think was: damn. Did that really just happen? Maybe I was fitting in around here more than I thought.

  After taking off my coat and shoving it and my bag into my locker, I grabbed what books I needed and headed to homeroom. I was there before Archer, and I waited for him with bated breath. It wasn’t that I wanted to talk to him…okay, it was exactly like that. I might’ve had a teeny crush on the guy.

  Alas, Archer didn’t show up until right before the announcements came on, which meant I couldn’t talk to him, because class started right after that. I did steal a few looks at him, though. And then a few turned into a lot, and a lot turned into…

  Let’s just say I stared at him probably all period.

  As the day went on, my mind wavered between thinking about the party and thinking about the money—or lack of, really. Lack of money meant no PI. No Jacob Hall. And after I was so brazen in climbing into his car like that. I’d made a fool of myself pointlessly, told him I wasn’t a kid uselessly.

  Hell, even kids in Midpark could get their hands on a thousand big ones, I bet.