by R. A. Smyth
Chapter 13
Storming back into the apartment, I slam the door behind me. Senior year is supposed to be the year, but mine is going to shit faster than I can blink. As if it isn’t bad enough I found out my parents aren’t who I thought they were, but some new girl has to show up, defying me at every turn and messing with Cam’s head. Why the fuck won’t she just bow down to us? Every other girl here either worships the ground we walk on, or is too afraid to come near us. Why the fuck can’t she just fall into one of those categories?
Striding over to the fridge, I lift out a beer, twisting off the lid and bringing the cool bottle to my lips, my eyes drifting shut as I gulp down half of it. If only alcohol was the answer to all of my problems.
Finishing off the beer, I dump the bottle in the trash, striding across the living space to the bedrooms. I seriously need to wash this day off me, or fuck it out of me. Maybe I’ll stop by Tina’s tonight. God knows, she and the last girl of the month have been taking the brunt of my anger.
Walking past Cam’s door, the creak of a floorboard from within his room halts my steps and I eye the closed door with confusion. I didn’t think any of the guys were back yet, and Cam is usually the first one out of his room when anyone comes home.
Cautiously, I wrap my hand around the handle, slowly turning it. My muscles are tense, my body on alert and ready to confront whatever I’ll find on the other side of the door. As it silently swings open, my eyes widen in surprise as an annoyed-looking Hadley is revealed, standing boldly in the middle of Cam’s room.
“What the fuck are you doing?” I bark out, quickly scanning my eyes around the space, trying to determine if anything is out of order, before returning my glare to her. Cam’s room is such a mess, it’s impossible to tell what she was doing in here. Her spine straightens as she grinds her jaw, returning my glare, like I’m the one in the fucking wrong here. Where the hell does this girl get off, thinking she can do whatever the fuck she wants?
“Cam accidentally lifted my notebook the other day. He said I could stop by.” The words come out confidently. No hesitation or stumbling, and she maintains direct eye contact. She’s certainly not acting like someone caught in a lie.
“And you just thought you’d show up when none of us were here?” I question. “How did you even get in?” Despite her nonchalance, nothing is adding up here.
“You must have left your door unlocked.” She shrugs. “I called out, but no one answered. I figured it would be on his desk or something and it would be no big deal, but I can’t seem to find it.”
I narrow my eyes on her, flicking them toward his desk, but I don’t see anything that either corroborates or contradicts her story. Regardless, I don’t fucking believe a word she’s saying. I honestly can’t put my finger on it, but something about her rubs me up the wrong way. I just don’t like her snarky personality, or her shitty temper. She’s constantly glowering at one of us, never giving us the fucking respect we deserve. The only person she seems to halfway like is Cam, which really just makes her seem more suspect. Not because she likes Cam, he is the most likeable one out of us all, but he’s still as much of a dick as the rest of us. Yet she overlooks that quality in him, while berating the rest of us. It makes no sense.
“What’s your angle?” I ask, unable to figure her out.
“Huh? What do you mean?” Her eyebrows are scrunched together in confusion, but I don’t miss the spark of...something in her eyes. Knowledge, maybe? I’m not sure.
“I don’t know what you’re after, but Cam’s not stupid, and you sure as hell don’t want to cross any of us.” I pin her with a fearsome glare. One I learned from my father that I know can have grown men shitting their pants and running off to do whatever you want. “Some scholarship kid like you?” I sneer, dropping my gaze to take in her unimpressive appearance. “We’ll fucking destroy you.” I expect to see fear and shock in her eyes. It’s the normal response. Instead, I’m met with a steely resolve, a sly smirk lifting the corner of her lips.
What the fuck? What is wrong with this girl?
She takes several slow, deliberate steps toward me until we’re only inches apart. Pressing up onto her toes, closing the height difference between us—not that it does much good, I’m still nearly a foot taller than her—she glares right back at me. “I’d love to see you try,” she retorts confidently, my steely gaze and dark tone not affecting her. She fearlessly pats me on the shoulder, her arm brushing mine as she steps around me, striding out of the room. By the time I’ve worked out what the fuck just happened, she’s long gone from the apartment.
I’m pacing back and forth across the open living space when the others come in. After she left, I had a good look around Cam’s room, but nothing was out of place and I couldn't find anything obvious that was missing.
“Dude, what is eating you?” Cam chuckles as he collapses onto the leather sofa. West eyes me warily as he lowers himself into an armchair, bringing his leg up, crossing his ankle over his knee. Unlike Cam, he’s much more refined, his movements carefully thought out instead of slumping into his chair in a boneless heap.
I stop my pacing as Mason joins us, facing all three of them as I tell them about Hadley.
“I’m telling you, I don’t trust her,” I growl, getting annoyed that none of them seem to think her intruding on our space is a big deal. Cam just shrugged me off when I told him I found her in his room.
“She was just getting her notebook,” he says easily. “She told me she’d be stopping by.”
“She wasn’t looking for any notebook,” I snap. He wasn’t there, he didn’t see the look in her eye, hear the defiance in her tone. I might not know for sure that she was up to something, but call it gut instinct. She was too calm, too confident considering I’d just caught her red fucking handed. An innocent person would have shown a healthy dose of fear at being caught—not that any other Pac student is stupid enough to even think about coming into our personal space. “She was searching for something.”
“Searching for what, man?” Cam sighs. “Unless she wanted condoms or something from my porn stash, there’s nothing to find in my room.”
I throw an exasperated look toward the other two, needing some sort of back-up here. One of them has to be on the same page as me. They at least appear to be thinking over what I’ve told them, even if they aren’t as angry about the whole thing as they should be.
“She said we left the door unlocked?” Mason questions, his brows furrowed, deep in thought.
“Yeah,” I nod, “but there’s no way any of us would do that.”
West nods in agreement, remaining silent as he processes everything.
“I wouldn’t,” Mason agrees.
“Same,” West concurs.
All three of us look in Cam’s direction.
“I don’t know,” he moans. “I mean, maybe. I might have been distracted when I left this morning. It’s possible I forgot to lock up.”
“Dude, what the hell?” Mason grouches, throwing his hands up in frustration, pinning Cam with an angry look.
“Say she was looking for something,” West pipes up, playing devil's advocate. “What would she expect to find in Cam’s room?”
Fuck. “I don’t know,” I grumble. This is the problem. She’s up to something, and I fucking know it, but I don’t know what she’s up to, or why.
“See,” Cam states, waving his hand in my direction.
“She’s a scholarship student, she could be after money or anything,” I spit back, scrambling to think of some reason she could have been in his room.
Cam raises his eyebrows at me, giving me a ‘are you fucking serious’ look. “She wouldn’t risk her scholarship for some petty cash, and there are definitely easier students she could target than one of us,” he reasons.
“I’m just saying, it couldn’t do any harm to at least keep an eye on her,” I say, pointedly looking at Mason and West to back me up in this, since Cam’s clearly thinking with the wrong head right now
.
“Dude, you haven’t liked her since she crossed you in the hallway.” Cam sighs wearily, clearly done with the conversation. “Just let it go.”
“I mean, it couldn’t hurt,” West points out, backing me and earning a glare from Cam. “If nothing comes of it, we’ll leave her alone and you can do whatever you want with her.”
Cam sighs, rubbing his hand over his face. “Look, man,” he says wearily, leaning forward in his seat, fixing me with a serious expression, “you’re under a lot of stress right now. We’ve got a lot going on. It makes sense that you’re looking for someone to offload all your issues onto, but, man, it can’t be her. I actually like this chick.”
With a heavy sigh, I run a hand through my hair, tugging on the ends in frustration. “If she’s got nothing to hide, then it won’t matter,” I reason, piercing him with a deadpan look until he concedes.
“Fine,” he growls. “But, honestly, I think you just need to get over it.”
“I don’t trust her,” I grumble, repeating myself for the umpteenth time. “And she’s got anger issues.”
“So?” Cam snorts, looking at me like I’m crazy. “So do you.”
“Man, she’s basically the vagina version of you.” Mason chuckles.
“Pfft, no, she’s not. She’s got no respect, and she shits a fucking brick over the slightest thing.”
Mason raises an eyebrow in a ‘are you for real?’ gesture, only annoying me further.
“And she’s always got a smart remark.”
“Again, so do you.” Cam rolls his eyes, but the corner of his lip lifts in a small smile, his annoyance over our conversation fading.
Sighing heavily, I drop into an empty chair. “I just don’t like her,” I grouse. I might be able to talk Mason and West into being wary around her, but I’m going to need something more in order to make Cam see her for who she really is.
Letting out a bark of laughter, Cam retorts, “You don’t like anyone.”
***
The school throws a Halloween party every year. It’s usually a complete bore, only the freshmen enjoying themselves while the rest of us make a quick appearance before heading to the lake to get started on the after party.
The campus has been abuzz with excited chatter all week. All anyone can talk about is their costumes for tonight.
“I don’t understand why we can’t do a couple’s costume,” Tina whines that morning at breakfast. It’s the gazillionth time she’s brought it up this week. You’d think my adamant refusal the first few times would have made it clear to her, but apparently not.
“Tough,” I growl. How do these girls not understand that just because we’re fucking them, it doesn’t make us a fucking couple? It’s sex, and a tradition we’re forced by legacy to obey. I’m all for the anytime hook-up. It’s great not having to put any effort into flirting with a girl or spending all night laying on the charm so she’ll let you into her pants. Knowing I can just turn up at Tina’s door any hour of the day or night and fuck her until I’ve exhausted my frustrations is perfect, especially with the amount of rage constantly coursing through me these days. It’s saved more than a few asshole kids from having the shit beat out of them for pissing me off.
But dealing with the girls’ whining is fucking exhausting. Thank fuck we get to switch them out every month. By the time they settle into their role and build up the confidence to get so annoying, it’s nearly time to move on to the next girl.
Tonight we’ll have to spend time with the girls as part of the tradition, but that doesn’t mean we have to wear whatever costumes they want, or arrive with them. They get to be seen hanging out with us, and usually they get to leave with us, but that’s it. Besides, I’ve something else planned for tonight, something much more important than some stupid costume.
The day passes in a blur, everyone too distracted to focus on classes and that night, when the party is in full swing, we throw open the doors to the dining hall, all eyes falling on us. Cam is standing on my right, wearing nothing more than a pair of tight swimming trunks and flip-flops, with a plastic Olympic medal swinging from his neck. Apparently he’s some famous Olympic swimmer.
Wearing all black and wearing a trench coat and boots, I’m dressed as Neo from The Matrix, deciding to go old-school with my costume this year. When I was a kid, one of my nannies was obsessed with Keanu Reeves. I don’t remember how many times I sat and watched The Matrix with her when I should have been in bed, asleep.
Beside me, West is dressed in a fancy suit with a weird ass hat on his head. I honestly have no idea who he’s supposed to be. He tried explaining it to us, but it still made no sense.
On the other side of him, Mason is dressed in his usual casual attire of a muscle top, gray sweats and a blank expression, dressed up as himself apparently.
Scanning my eyes around the room, I take in the tacky orange and black balloons, the fake cobwebs strung up around the lights and windows. All the tables have been removed, opening up the space for students to dance, the buffet table overflowing with trays of Halloween-themed food and bowls of blood-red punch. There are students dressed in all sorts of weird and slutty costumes, dancing to the music on a makeshift dance floor or congregating in groups around the outskirts of the room.
Each of our girls of the month push their way through the gaping crowd, Tina coming to latch onto my arm, a seductive smile curling her lip as her eyes roam over my outfit. She’s dressed as a slutty nurse or something, honestly, all I really notice are her pushed up tits that are practically falling out of the white tube top she’s wearing. Hell yeah, I’m so ready to watch them bouncing up and down while I fuck her brains out.
“Mmm, baby, you look so good,” she purrs, running her hand down the front of my shirt. “Why don’t we start this party off right?” She bites down on her lower lip, a coy look in her eye as her hand grazes across the front of my pants, giving my balls a squeeze. Fuck yes! Checking my watch, I’ve got some time before they announce ‘best costume’ and the real fun can begin.
Giving her a dirty grin, I let her drag me back out the door and around to the back of the building.
An hour later, the music cuts off as Mr. Phister calls the room to attention, a microphone and envelope in his hand.
“Alright,” he calls out. “I hope you’ve all had fun tonight, but now it’s time to find out which lucky student has won this year’s ‘best costume’. The winner will get to choose the theme for the Valentines Day dance and head up the party planning committee.”
I roll my eyes. Who really gives a fuck about picking the theme or standing over a bunch of other students, making sure they pick streamers instead of balloons, or that the color they choose for the tablecloths is right?
Before Mr. Phister can announce the winner, I shove Tina off my arm, striding through the crowd, ignoring the confused looks on the other guys’ faces.
Stepping up beside the headmaster, I say, “If you don’t mind, Thomas, I’ll take it from here,” loud enough for the surrounding students to hear us, taking the microphone and envelope from him.
He gapes at me with wide eyes for a second before giving a hesitant, sharp nod, scurrying off to the side as I face the crowd, a cruel smirk on my face.
“Let’s find out this year's winner then,” I announce into the microphone, opening the envelope and glancing at the name printed on the page. “And the winner is...Abigail Cole.”
I keep that same grin on my face as the crowd breaks into hushed whispers, everyone looking around them in confusion. A quick glance around the room is enough to know how much some of these kids spent on their costume, and let me tell you, the scholarship students never win. They don’t stand a chance, so the fact one of them has just won is unheard of.
The students near the scholarship kids all seem to take several steps back, a gap opening up around them as they all look at each other with confused and wary glances.
“Don’t be shy now, Abigail. Up you come.” I wave her up onto the sta
ge and, with one final wide-eyed look at her friends, she takes a hesitant step forward, then another, clearly seeing that she has no other option but to come up here. Good girl. It would only have been worse for you if I had to come and get you.
When she’s finally standing beside me, an anxious look in her wide eyes that speaks right to me, feeding the inner part of me that lives off her fear, I wrap my arm around her shoulder, preventing her from running off. The poor thing looks like she’s about to faint; she’ll definitely bolt at the first opportunity if I don’t stop her.
“Well, what do we think of Abigail's costume?” I ask the crowd. “Is it worthy of a win?” More whispered murmurs, a few people shaking their heads, but no one speaks out to confirm or deny.
“I don’t think so,” I answer my own question, glancing over her thrown together outfit. I don’t even know what the fuck she’s supposed to be, although at least she made an effort, unlike Hadley. I spotted her earlier, dressed in her usual attire of worn jeans, baggy top, and boots, having made no effort for tonight.
“I don’t think scholarship students should be allowed to enter at all,” I continue, speaking into the microphone. “Don’t we give them enough? They are already getting an education that our families are paying for, with our hard earned money.” My fingers dig into Abigail's skin, holding her in place as she subtly tries to shake off my grip and escape. “They shouldn’t be given the opportunity to steal what is rightfully ours by birthright. They should cower in our presence, thank us for simply letting them walk these halls with us.”