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

by Candace Wondrak

  “I guess I’m a little nervous,” I admitted, giving him a sheepish look as I unbuckled my seatbelt.

  Archer’s mouth spread into a dimpled grin, and he leaned over, whispering, “You’re going to be fine.” He ended the appraisal with a soft peck on my cheek, and my skin tingled long after his lips were gone.

  I didn’t know why he affected me so much, only that he did. I never thought I would be the kind of girl who was helpless in the face of her crush, but when it came to Archer Vega, somehow, someway, I was just that. Helpless. Weak at the knees. Absolutely smitten like I’d never been smitten before.

  Exhaling a shaky breath, I got out of the car and followed Archer to the front door. The closer we got, the more I could hear the thumping of music inside. I felt his hand grab mine, and as we stood before the door, we shared a meaningful look. He gave me another smile, and my stomach was suddenly full of butterflies. And then we walked in.

  Chapter Twenty – Archer

  I focused on the feeling of her hand in mine as we entered the house. It was a house I’d been to many times before, and it was a house I’d spend more time at after this. It was far from my favorite place to be, but unfortunately, I had no choice.

  I didn’t have a choice in any of this.

  It wasn’t like I was looking forward to tonight. It wasn’t like I wanted to be a part of this, but you did what you had to in this life, whether you regretted it or not.

  Most people would probably jump to my defense. I was a good kid. A great student, a loving son. I was what every mother wanted their son to be…at face value, anyway. When you really dug deep, you didn’t find in me what you’d thought you’d find.

  I was a liar.

  I’d been lying this whole time, and tonight the lie would come crumbling down, and the result wouldn’t be pretty.

  This was it.

  Pretty faces that I knew from Midpark were everywhere. In the living room, dancing, in the hallway, making out, and probably quite a few of them upstairs, getting straight to business. I pulled Jaz and I to a stop near the grand staircase, where I saw two smirking faces standing, midway up.

  Deetra and Chelsea, her two friends. The two girls who did anything she asked, no matter what that something was. They stood, leaning over the railing, just above us, sniggering to themselves. Jaz didn’t hear them, and neither did I, but unlike Jaz, I was aware of their presence. I knew why they were here.

  I knew why everyone was here.

  Humiliate the new girl. Break her down. Show her that she didn’t belong here with us, that she’d never be one of us. Maybe she wouldn’t. Midpark was full of pretty faces that hid equally pretty lies. My face was one of them. Jaz had it good, not being one of us, although I doubted she’d agree with me on that tonight.

  I moved us to the side of the staircase, pushing Jaz’s back against the wall as I gave her a grin I knew she believed. “Jacket?” I asked as I took off mine. I folded mine over my arm as I offered to take hers. My eyes watched her heavily as she unzipped and shrugged off her leather jacket.

  God, she really was beautiful. Her figure, every last part of her body was without a flaw. Her skin, her eyes, her hair. I wasn’t the type to get caught up in a girl’s looks like this, but with Jaz, it was impossible not to. She was literally the prettiest girl I’d ever seen, which made tonight suck even more.

  If I had a choice…well, I never had a choice. It wasn’t my life to choose.

  Holding both our jackets, I said, “I’ll go get us drinks. Be right back.” A part of me hated that she’d fallen for me so easily, the same part of me that hated myself for feeling something for her.

  After all this time, you’d think I would know better by now. I, Archer Vega, could never be happy. I could never get what I want. I was stuck living a life I didn’t want, having friends I didn’t want—among other things—because…because of one person.

  Jaz met my grin with one of her own, and my stomach hardened. “Okay,” she said, her voice smooth and soft, like velvet. I could seriously listen to her talk all day, every day, and never tire of it.

  Once tonight’s events concluded, I doubted she’d ever want to talk to me again.

  It was probably for the best, though. She was nothing but temptation to me, and I’d given in too easily. Tonight was about me just as much as it was about her. This was about us both, retribution for us both, for the wrong we’d committed by being together.

  I knew better. I’d known better in the very beginning, and yet Jaz’s beautiful face tugged at my heart and my body, making me a slave to the emotions warring inside. Sleeping with her was…there were no words for it.

  My heart was on the floor when I made my way through the hall to the kitchen. Some of these kids probably had no idea the truth of tonight, but others had to. She wouldn’t invite all of these people without telling them there was going to be a show.

  I found her in the kitchen, two red cups near her on the counter. Her slim figure wore dark tights, strapped heels that she could walk in perfectly. She wore a tiny skirt and a low-cut top, showing off a lot of her cleavage. Her blonde hair was curled, hairspray holding the curls. Diamonds sat around her neck in a choker, and the moment her amber eyes laid on me, she smiled.

  It was a smile that a lot of guys would fall for, but I wasn’t most guys. I knew what malice sat behind those lips, what devious thoughts laid in her brain. I knew better than most just how awful of a person Brittany Pots was.

  I mean, this was her house, after all.

  “There you are,” she purred, taking the jackets from me and setting them behind her. “I was worried you wouldn’t show.”

  Liar. She knew I’d show. She knew I had no choice in this.

  I said nothing, to which she simply chuckled. “Oh, don’t look so sad, Archer. I’m doing us both a favor. That bitch needs to know there are consequences for the things she does.” Her lips were curled into a grin as she reached for the two cups behind her. She handed them both to me.

  We’d gone over the plan again and again.

  This, tonight…things would change, and after tonight, Jaz would never want to look at me again, not that I blamed her for it.

  Liars got what they deserved in this town, and for me? For me it was a broken heart.

  Chapter Twenty-One – Jaz

  I hung where Archer had guided me, not wanting to go anywhere without him. I didn’t know this house, didn’t really know these people. Truthfully, I’d only come here for him, so everyone else could fall off the face of the earth tonight and I wouldn’t care.

  So many people. So much loud music. So much grinding and making out. And, if my nose didn’t deceive me, so much pot. Yeah, the air was definitely rank with something; it made my nose itch.

  Glancing at the other girls’ clothes, I wasn’t overdressed, so I was thankful to go all out tonight. I knew my dress was nothing compared to their shiny clothes and diamond-studded jewelry, but if I had to compare us, I’d still say I looked the best.

  Was it just confidence or arrogance? I didn’t know. Had to be careful, though. Didn’t want to be too self-assured and fly too close to the sun.

  Archer returned with two red cups, and he handed me one, giving me a dimpled smile. I stared up into his eyes, watching as he took a sip of his cup first. That blue…I swore, I’d never seen such pretty blue eyes before. Their depths were unlike any other, so crisp and clear, warm and inviting. They were the kind of eyes you could stare at for hours, lose yourself in completely.

  My eyes? The color of shit. You couldn’t compose sonnets about shit, but those beautiful baby blues? Oh, you could write whole novels about them.

  I met his grin with my own, feeling giddy. It was impossible to not feel giddy while in his presence. Now that he was done being pointlessly jealous and back to his usual self, I couldn’t help but swoon. I took a sip of the drink after smelling it—didn’t smell too good, but I imagined it tasted better.

  As the searing and powerful liquid fell down my th
roat, I found out I was wrong. So wrong. It burned going down, and I had to hold in a wince. Man, that stuff, whatever it was, tasted like shit…but it looked like Archer was downing it with no problems whatsoever.

  Hmm. Maybe I was just a baby when it came to alcohol, having never drunk it before. It didn’t exactly taste good, the opposite, really, so I didn’t understand what the big deal was, but maybe I just had to drink more of it to get used to it. It seemed as good of logic as any at this point. Drinking was like America’s pastime.

  My face must’ve given it away when I sipped from the cup again, because Archer said, “What’s wrong? Don’t like it?”

  “No,” I choked. “It’s good.” My voice came out paper-thin, and it was more than obvious I thought the stuff in the cup tasted like shit.

  The dimples on his cheeks deepened as he gestured to where the living room was, where most of the other bodies were, grinding against each other, basically having sex with their clothes on while in beat with the music.

  I followed him, and, lucky us, it was as we entered the living room that a guy and a girl making out on the couch got up, practically tripping over each other to find privacy. I watched them go as Archer plopped himself down and patted the cushion beside him. Sitting down, I glanced at the mass of bodies near the set-up speakers, watching how lost they seemed to be in each other.

  “So how often do you have parties like this?” I asked, taking another sip of the drink.

  Nope. Still tasted like shit. Still made me wince as it went down my throat.

  Archer shrugged, sipping his own drink before holding the red cup on his knee. “You’d be surprised how boring it is in Midpark,” he said, grinning. “And when things get boring, you tend to find stuff to do.”

  That’s how it was everywhere, not just the rich suburbs.

  Archer and I talked for a while. I kept trying to like the drink, but it was a little over half gone and I decided I absolutely hated it. I hated it with my whole being. I was not a fan of drinking, or alcohol, or whatever specific type was in this cup. I didn’t even know what it was.

  I blinked, shaking off the pit that began to form in my gut. Maybe drinking on an empty stomach wasn’t a good idea. I didn’t know—I’d never drank before. “What is this, anyway?” I asked after a while, turning to look at Archer.

  It looked like he sat away from me, as if he didn’t want to touch me on the couch.

  That was weird.

  His blue eyes were averted, and it seemed like he stared off into space. “I don’t know,” he answered gruffly, sounding like he had before, when he’d been jerky and mean to me.

  What the fuck was wrong with him? This hot and cold thing was getting really old. I thought, stupidly, we were past that.

  “What do you mean you don’t know?” I asked, moving a hand to my head. In the back recesses of my mind, a headache had started to form. This drinking thing really was shit, wasn’t it? Who the hell wanted to do it for fun?

  “It means I don’t know,” Archer answered, turning to look at me. No, not just look. Glare. He outright glared at me, no longer smiling, no longer friendly in the slightest. His handsome face read cold and jaded, and that pit that had started to form in my stomach only grew.

  “Why are you acting so mean?”

  “I don’t know, why do you ask so many stupid fucking questions?” he shot back.

  Shaking my head, I got up. Not sure where I was going, since Archer was my ride and I had no idea where the hell he’d taken my jacket, but I had to go somewhere. I couldn’t sit and bear witness to his transformation into King Douche again.

  Still holding onto the cup and what was left inside it, I took a step away from the couch. I had to stop for two things. The first reason being the room started to sway, not looking right. The second reason was that someone now stood in my way, blocking my escape.

  A slender, pretty girl with blonde curls and cold dark eyes.

  Brittany. Of course it was fucking Brittany. I couldn’t get a break tonight, could I? I was looking forward to this party, to this date, and then Archer had to go and turn into a dick, and then Brittany had to show up. I mean, what the flying fuck?

  “Where do you think you’re going?” Brittany asked. She looked great in what she wore, I was loathed to admit. She held onto a cup herself, this one full.

  “I’m…I’m leaving,” I said. It was hard to speak, for whatever reason. My words sounded slurred, faint, almost. It was ridiculously hard to stand in my boots. My whole body felt heavy, and I just wanted to sit back on that couch and go to sleep.

  I was too lost in my muddled head to realize that everyone dancing had suddenly stopped; someone had even turned the music off.

  What in the world was going on here, and why did I feel like I’d just been punched by a semi-truck?

  “Sorry,” Brittany said, “you can’t leave yet. You and I have to talk.” She took a step forward, moving as smoothly as a human could in heels, like they were just an extension of her legs, like she was born with them. “You see, you’re new around here, and already you’ve been a bad, bad girl.”

  I shook my head, unable to say anything other than, “What?”

  Behind me, Archer got up, sauntering over to Brittany’s side. Brittany shot him a smug look before bringing her eyes back to me. “Oh, don’t act like you don’t know. You stepped on my territory. You fucked my boyfriend.”

  The world continued to spin, but for a whole new reason now.

  I glanced to Archer, barely able to make out his face through the haze. The pit in my gut grew to epic proportions, and I wanted—as stupid as it was—to cry. I watched in pure horror as Archer’s arm wrapped around Brittany’s waist and pulled her in, and he gave her a hard, fast, passionate kiss the whole room saw. Some, I noticed, were even recording it.

  Was the whole purpose of tonight just cruelty?

  My heart felt like it’d been ripped out. I wouldn’t go so far as to say I was in love with Archer, but I liked him. I liked him a lot. And, anyway, if he’d been dating Brittany this whole time, why didn’t he say something? I never would’ve slept with him if I’d have known he was taken—I wasn’t that kind of girl. I didn’t make those choices.

  Once their kiss was over, Brittany turned to me. One of her hands was wrapped in his hair, the other still held onto the cup. It was that same cup she threw at me, drenching me in whatever sticky alcohol it was, dousing my face entirely. My hair, my neck, most of my chest. I immediately dripped with the stuff, and I stood there, blinking, in utter shock.

  This was not happening, was it? This was some strange, bizarre nightmare, some stupid teen movie on Freeform. This was not my life. It couldn’t be. I got into a fight with my mom for this? For that dick?

  No. No, no, no.

  I wanted a redo of tonight. I wanted…

  A lot of things. I wanted a lot of things, things which I apparently would never have.

  I turned to walk out of the room, to leave, to storm away—although I wasn’t feeling half as well as I should’ve, and with my coat gone, I’d be too cold outside to go far, especially since I was so drenched—but two sneering faces stopped me. Brittany’s friends, the girls I’d seen hanging around her that first day when she’d asked if I was Ollie’s new toy.

  One of them, the red-headed one, held onto a phone, laughing as she recorded my dumbstruck expression. The other, a dark-haired, dark-eyed girl with equally dark skin held onto a pillowcase. She whipped it over my head, dousing me with fluff, feathers that had been stuffed into the case. The small white bits stuck to every place on me that was wet, and I even got some in my mouth. Hell, the gesture practically knocked me over.

  “Next time you think of fucking someone’s boyfriend,” Brittany spoke, her voice suddenly right behind me. I dared not turn around—mostly because I didn’t think I’d be able to. “Remember this, because if there is a next time, I won’t be so nice about it.”

  Once I was sure I wouldn’t fall over, I turned my head, s
potting Brittany looking smug. Archer stood beside her, avoiding eye contact because—apparently—he was a lying sack of shit.

  It really was true. I couldn’t trust anyone in this town. I—

  I really didn’t feel good. I just wanted to go home, and for a long while pretend like this night never happened.

  If I would’ve been feeling better, I would’ve put up more of a fight. I would’ve said something, done something. Raised hell like I knew I could. But tonight, tonight I wanted to tuck my tail between my legs and leave, go home and lick my wounds. Shower. Maybe throw up. Who knew? I wouldn’t rule anything out.

  I lurched forward, barely able to keep myself up as I pushed past Brittany’s two friends, who each called me their choice of words. Slut and bitch being the two. A whole chorus of laughter bounced into my ears, and I could not get out of that house fast enough.

  No one in Midpark was my friend. No one cared about me. I would never fit in here; it was stupid for me to even want to try.

  My head throbbed by the time I stumbled to the front door, slipping in my boots. It was like the floor was slippery…or my legs weren’t working quite right. My whole body felt off, somehow. I’d thought initially it was because I’d drank on an empty stomach, but what if this was something else? What if this was worse?

  What if…what if I’d been drugged?

  Fuck. I shouldn’t have taken anything. That was one of the cardinal rules of going to a party if you were a girl, even I knew that. But no, I had to be so smitten with Archer that all logical thought processes flew out of the window of my brain when I saw those cute dimples and those dreamy blue eyes.

  Shit. I had to get out of this house. I had to call someone. I went for the doorknob, well aware that Brittany and her crew had followed me into the hall. It took every ounce of strength in my body to pull open that door and walk out into the cold air of night. I stumbled down the front steps, practically tripping over my own feet as I tried to get to my phone in my dress’s pocket.