Hood River Rat (Hood River Hoodlums Book 1)

by K. Webster

  Hood River Rat

  Copyright © 2019 K Webster

  Cover Design: All by Design

  Photo: Adobe Stock

  Editor: Emily A. Lawrence

  Formatting: Champagne Book Design

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by an information and retrieval system without express written permission from the Author/Publisher.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  About This Book

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Epilogue

  Playlist

  Acknowledgements from K Webster

  About Author K Webster

  Books by K Webster

  To Mom—

  Our mutual love for romances about boys who kiss boys

  inspires me to write more MM just for you.

  Thanks for always loving and supporting me, no matter what I do.

  Hood River was supposed to be the change I needed.

  A fresh start.

  An escape from my painful past.

  Better in every way.

  I’m a popular guy. Approachable. I make friends easily.

  Cool car. Nice clothes. Good attitude.

  Everything will be fine.

  School is school.

  I’ll keep my head down until graduation and try not to stick out.

  College will be here before I know it.

  Yet my first day proves to be anything but easy.

  The Hood River Hoodlums—our school’s most notorious group of bad boys—have put a target on my back.

  Their leader, Roan, hates me.

  He calls me Rat.

  To him and his friends, I’m a loser who doesn’t belong at their school.

  I could pretend I don’t care about their hate.

  If only Roan wasn’t so hot.

  He’s mean, cruel, and sexy as hell.

  My nemesis is impossible to ignore…and a secret part of me doesn’t want to.

  Here I thought being gay was the worst of my problems.

  Turns out, being gay and crushing on your enemy takes the cake.

  Hollis

  Guilt is a ravenous beast. One I tend to feed on the daily. Not because I want to, but because it demands it. With every sad smile my mother gives me and each emotional meltdown of one of my little sisters, the beast begs to be fed.

  I did this to them.

  I ruined my mother and uprooted my sisters.

  I’m a selfish, selfish boy.

  A shudder ripples through me as my father’s words repeat inside my head. You ripped apart this family, son. You.

  I’m gay.

  Being gay shouldn’t be a problem. This isn’t some era or a foreign country where this isn’t deemed acceptable. It’s on television, movies, commercials, and books. Friends and teachers and family. Someone is gay. No big deal.

  But to Dr. English, Vermont’s most revered surgeon, being gay was an embarrassment. Having his oldest child come out to his school and it make its way to the hospital where Dad works was the shock of his life. Never mind the fact that Vermont is really accepting of gays. It was my father who was not. Rather than being a normal fucking human about it, Dad blew up in the worst way. Threatened to kick me out. To disown me. To take away my car, my trust fund, my college savings.

  Yet…he was unsuccessful.

  Mom stood in front of me and took his wrath. Chose me over him. Ended a twenty-year marriage because protecting her son was more important than protecting her marriage.

  I love her for that.

  I also hate me for that.

  She shouldn’t have had to choose. She shouldn’t have had to leave her cushy life as a surgeon’s wife to move out west to Oregon. Away from her friends. Away from her life. Away from everything. Sure, we could have stayed and continued our life there without Dad, but Mom said she needed the support of her sister.

  “What’s wrong, honey?” she asks, sipping from her coffee mug, her hip propped against the countertop in my aunt Karen’s kitchen.

  I stiffen, hating that she caught me deep in my self-loathing thoughts. She’s so perceptive, so normally I do everything in my power to keep that from her. My mother has enough to worry about with Charlotte and Penny.

  “Nothing, Mom,” I tell her with a bright smile. “Just thinking about school.”

  She sets her mug down and walks over to me. Her fingers ruffle my dark blond hair that matches hers exactly. “I can read you better than I can read myself. You’re nervous.”

  “Yeah,” I lie. “New school, new friends. It’ll be fine.”

  Her lips press together. “I can try and get you in the private school, but you insist on public. I can manage a way to pay for it.”

  But she can’t.

  Again, because of me.

  Mom now works as a bank teller and we live with Aunt Karen until she can get on her feet. Dad will eventually have to pay obligatory child support and alimony, but it’s not enough for Mom to buy us a house and pay for private school. And until the divorce goes through, she’s scraping by just to feed us.

  “I swear,” I assure her. “It’ll be fine.” This time, I mean it. I came from a school where I was well-liked and popular. Most of my friends I had since kindergarten. I’m an easygoing guy and tend to make friends without having to try too hard. That’s not what I’m worried about.

  I’m worried about Mom.

  “Promise me you’ll let me know if the academics aren’t what they should be. I want you to still have all the same opportunities you had back home.”

  “The academics are better at Hood River,” Aunt Karen says in her no-nonsense principal voice. “We’ve gone over this, Kelsey.”

  Mom sighs and steps away, shaking her head at her sister. “I know. I’m just worried. They’re starting in the middle of the school year.”

  “Garrett knew what he was doing when he gave you that ultimatum,” Aunt Karen tells her gently, stroking her fingers through Mom’s blond hair. “And my strong sister stood up to him, even if it meant a little chaos for her children. You did the right thing.”

  Once again, the guilt threatens to drown me.

  “Hollis is the most resilient kid I know.” Aunt Karen smiles fondly at me. “And if anyone gives you grief, I’ll
give them detention.” She shrugs and chuckles as though she’s teasing, but we both know she’s not. I’m not sure having my aunt as the principal is a good thing or a bad thing.

  “I really will be okay.” I give them both a reassuring grin. “Four months and I’ll graduate. I’ve got this.”

  As they set to preparing breakfast for my little sisters, I flip through my phone. Dad canceled our phone plan, so Mom got us new ones once we got to Hood River. I had to input all my old friends and text them from my new number. Some haven’t responded back and I don’t know what to make of that.

  This will just have to be a fresh start. I’ll skim through the next four months unnoticed and when I go off to college, I can be the Hollis I was meant to be. Guilt-free and gay. At Hood River, I plan to be invisible Hollis.

  “My hair won’t act right,” Charlotte wails as she stomps into the kitchen. Her blond hair is sleek pulled back in a ponytail and doesn’t look bad, so I don’t know what her deal is.

  “You look beautiful,” Mom assures her.

  “I look gross and no one will want to be my friend.” She turns on the waterworks, making my mom’s shoulders hunch with defeat. It kills me.

  “Toughen up, Char,” Aunt Karen barks out. “If you go into middle school crying, they’re going to make fun of you. Your hair is beautiful and so are you. That’s enough.”

  Mom winces at Aunt Karen’s harsh delivery, but she doesn’t correct her. This only makes Charlotte cry harder. I don’t remember being so emotional in the eighth grade.

  “My iPad is broken,” Penny complains, walking into the kitchen shoeless and still half asleep. At twelve, she’s more worried about her stupid apps than school.

  “Your iPad is going to go into the trash if you don’t get ready for school right now,” Mom threatens, pointing upstairs.

  Penny pouts and stomps off.

  “Right,” I say with a sigh. “Who wants a ride to school?”

  “I’ll take the girls to their schools,” Aunt Karen says. “Just get yourself settled in. When you get there, ask for Ms. Sommers. She’s the counselor and will have your schedule. If you need anything during the day, come see me.”

  After kissing my mom and hugging my aunt, I slip back to my bedroom. It’s Aunt Karen’s office, but we were able to add a twin bed to give me my own space. My mom took one of Aunt Karen’s guest rooms and the girls share the other. Since this is all my fault, sleeping on a twin crammed behind a computer desk feels fair.

  Especially since I kept my car.

  I’m both relieved and sickened. On one hand, it’ll be nice driving my 2018 Ford Mustang GT Coupe to school and not having to rely on my aunt to get me there. On the other hand, though, it was a gift from my father, which leaves a bad taste in my mouth. When I turned eighteen last fall, he paid cash for it and put it in my name. Some rite of passage being a man bullshit. Whatever the reason, it kept him from being able to take it away when we left. Insurance is fucking expensive, but I’ll get a job and worry about that later.

  “Everything will be fine,” I mutter to myself as I glance at the mirror Aunt Karen hung on the wall in an effort to make the office feel more like a bedroom. At least I look nice. It’s not like I’m some loser going to a new school who’ll get bullied. I’m Hollis English. All-American boy with a happy smile and a friendly attitude. Teachers love me. Students want to be me.

  It’s fine.

  Totally fine.

  Though I’d wanted to go for comfort—a hoodie and sweats—I decided on something more reasonable to make a first impression. Dark slacks. Dress shoes. Button-up shirt. I’d thought about grabbing a tie, but then wondered if it would seem too preppy. At the last minute, I decide preppy is fine if I want my teachers to take me seriously so I can get the scholarships I need. I can’t rely on Dad anymore. I snag a deep purple tie from the closet and quickly put it on like my father taught me. With my dark blond hair styled neatly and my approachable smile affixed, I deem that I look better than good for my first day of school.

  Plus, my tie nearly matches my car, and that’s a small win I’ll take for the day.

  Letting out a heavy sigh, I grab my gray pea coat, my black leather Michael Kors messenger bag, and the keys to the ’Stang.

  I’m fine.

  This is fine.

  My new high school is insanely different than my prep school back home. For one, there are hardly any cars in the parking lot. Everyone at South Burlington Prep drove. And most of them drove something equally expensive to mine, though theirs was probably more snowy weather appropriate in comparison. Either I’m really early, or there are twelve people who drive.

  A bout of nerves makes my stomach clench painfully. I’ve been having these pains when I’m stressed. Like someone grabs my stomach and squeezes it. A few times, I’ve even puked over it. Mom says it’s nerves and for her sake, I try not to tell her anymore. She looks sick herself anytime I mention it and the last thing I need to do is make my mother sick.

  I park on the first row between an old Ford Explorer with the paint peeling off and a gray minivan. I still have twenty minutes before school starts, so maybe more kids will show up and fill up the parking lot. As I get out of my car, I cringe slightly noticing how obnoxious my vehicle looks in comparison.

  I’m just grabbing my messenger bag from the backseat when a car door slams. I dart my eyes up to find a guy in front of the Explorer staring at me. His eyes look black and wild, and coupled with the cigarette hanging out of his mouth and shaved head, he looks borderline criminal.

  “Nice purple car,” he says, his tone mocking, his cigarette bouncing between his lips.

  “Uh, thanks.” My voice sounds high. Nervous.

  “Wasn’t a compliment.”

  The guy starts walking toward the school, flicking his cigarette into the grass, when the other car door slams. I drag my stare from the wannabe convict to another guy. Rather than bored and slightly unhinged, like the first guy, this guy looks pissed.

  Dark brown hair that’s grown out long enough to hang over one of his intense eyes. Flaring nostrils. Sharp jawline that clenches. All that aggression is directed my way, but couldn’t possibly be for me considering I literally just got out of my car and have never met the guy.

  I look over my shoulder to see who he could possibly be glaring at. When I find no one, I realize all that boiling hatred is for me.

  Fucking great.

  “Hi,” I squeak out, hating how much of a pussy I sound like. “I’m Hollis.”

  “Don’t care.”

  He walks off and I gape after him. What the hell was that all about? The guy is wearing the outfit I wanted to wear—black sweats, white tennis shoes, and a gray hoodie. It’s too cold not to be wearing a coat, but he doesn’t seem bothered by it.

  I shoulder my bag and lock my car before hurrying after him. “Hey, man, wait up.”

  He stops abruptly. It gives me time to approach him. The guy’s big, at least five inches or so over my five-foot-eleven frame. His shoulders are broad and he looks like he could fuck up someone like me.

  Since he won’t turn around, I slowly circle him like one would a rabid animal. Calm. Soft tones. No quick movements.

  “I think we got off on the wrong foot for some reason.” My breath comes out in a rush. “Can we start again?”

  His head cocks to the side, his hair shifting to reveal a barbell through his eyebrow, and his honey-brown eyes bore into me. I can’t help but squirm under his scrutiny. He takes a step toward me, forcing me to take an awkward step back. His upper lip curls in disgust.

  “Are you a teacher?” His deep, sultry voice startles me stupid for all of three seconds.

  “W-What? No, I’m just a kid like you—”

  “I’m not a fucking kid,” he snaps, his brows furling with anger.

  I hold up a hand, hating that I’m already fucking this up. “I just meant…I’m sorry.” My hand shakes and of course he zeroes in on it. Quickly, I shove it into my coat pocket. “I’
m new here and just wanted to introduce myself.”

  “You did. Now move out of my way.” He takes a threatening step toward me, but I stand my ground this time.

  “Listen…” I utter. “I’m not trying to piss you off, I’m—”

  He grabs my shoulders roughly and physically moves me to the side. Then, he storms past me and into the building.

  What. The. Fuck.

  “Oh, man, you screwed up,” a voice calls out as he trots my way. “Take note, new guy, don’t piss him off.”

  I slouch and scrub my palm along my cheek in frustration. “I didn’t mean to. I was just introducing myself. Trying to make a friend. You know, be a normal human being.”

  He snorts. “Spoiler alert, everyone here sucks. Except me. And apparently you. The name’s Gio Montoya.”

  I size him up quickly. Dark hair. Glasses. Small gap in his front two teeth. He’s dressed nicely, albeit a little nerdy, but he’s friendly.

  “Hollis English. Moved here from Vermont.”

  “Welcome to Hell, Hollis.” He grins. “Joke!”

  I can’t help but laugh. “Joke’s on me. I was not expecting this.”

  “Expect the unexpected around here. And stay away from guys like Roan Hirsch.”

  Roan.

  The psychopath’s name is Roan.

  A tiny thrill shoots through me knowing I now have his name despite him refusing to give it. It’s a nice name for a not-so-nice guy.

  “Don’t worry,” I grumble. “I’ve learned my lesson.”

  “His minions are just as bad. Avoid them at all costs. Terrence, Jordy, and Cal. Jordy, though, he’s a mean ass motherfucker. Touch his stupid car out there and he’ll break your nose. Just ask my buddy Richie.”

  “Thought you said you were the only one who didn’t suck around here. What about Richie?”

  Gio’s features darken. “Richie’s mom moved him the fuck out of here after that fight. I’m telling you. The Hoodlums are vicious.”

  Hoodlums?

  “Right,” I say with an exasperated sigh. “I’ll stay away. Gladly. Can you show me to Ms. Sommers? I need to pick up my schedule and figure out where the hell I need to go.”