Rich Boys vs. Poor Boys (The Cruel Kings of Castle Hill Academy, Book 1) by Devon Hartford kd103
Page 26
Anyway, I’m done with the Rich Boys.
I don’t care how hot they are.
They aren’t worth the trouble from the Rich Girls.
Best to keep to my own kind.
That leaves me with Rob, Tucker, Skill, and Jonah to choose from.
I can work with that.
Not that I’ve made a choice, and not that any of them are making any overt signals. It’s like they’re too busy. I don’t see them much around campus these days.
When Thanksgiving break rolls around, I decide it’s time to get busy with at least one of the four Poor Boys at my first opportunity.
<(—)>
“No way!” I grouse. “We’ll get kicked out of Castle Hill if we sneak out to see some dumb band!”
“It’s just sneaking off campus down to town,” Mimi pleads. “No one’s going to know we’re gone. We’ll be back before Brawny notices.”
“I should be studying,” I sigh.
“That’s what we’ve been doing all day!”
We’re in Mimi’s Convent room with books and papers spread out on both beds.
I sigh, “My grades have been slipping, in case I haven’t mentioned it a hundred times in the past two weeks. You know I didn’t do as well on midterms as I hoped. If I don’t pull my grades back up to a 3.5 by the end of the term, I’ll be going back you know where.”
“I know, and you will, but you won’t get your grades up if you burn yourself out.”
“True.”
“That’s why you need a night off, Mare Bear.”
“We’ve had the whole day off,” I offer. Since it’s Thanksgiving weekend, we didn’t have to clean the Palace dorms on a Saturday because most of the Fundies have left the academy to visit their families.
Surprise, we work-study kids are trapped here and aren’t allowed to leave or have family visits. Only tuition-paying families, aka Fundy families, are allowed on school grounds. It’s classist bullshit, but it’s the rules, which is actually worse than jail. Jail allows visitors nearly every day of the week.
What can I say? It’s not like I have anyone to come visit me, but I’m sure some of the other work-study kids have families. I know we aren’t all foster kids. Again, them’s the rules. Whatever.
Anyway, Meems and I have been studying since sunup.
“Live a little,” Mimi says. “You need a recharge. It’s Saturday night. We don’t have to work tomorrow. You can study then.”
“Okay, what’s this dumb band worth risking our enrollment over? Because we’ll be sneaking out, right?”
“Yup.”
“Past the electric fences and the Fundy hunt?”
“The what?!” she laughs.
“Never mind. How do we get past the fences?”
Mimi flashes an impish grin. “Don’t worry about that. I’ve got it taken care of. Anyway, it’s not just any band.”
“It better be effing Beyonce or Taylor effing Swift. No, the effing Donnas and the Muffs and the Runaways having a secret popup reunion show tonight. If it’s not girl punk band paradise when we get there, I’m seriously turning around and going home,” I giggle.
“It’s better than that,” Mimi grins.
“What could be better than that?”
“You’ll see.”
<(—)>
We hitch a ride with some work-study boys from Plant Services who have access to a school van, which they’re no doubt not supposed to use to drive to downtown Castle Hill with a bunch of work-study girls on a Saturday night, but they get us there without getting caught by Brawny or anyone else.
I’m wearing jeans, my Docs, a classic Ramones band shirt I got from Hot Topic forever ago, and my leather jacket. My hair has grown out to about an inch and a half, which I can semi-style with a boyish part on the side, but I don’t have any product to give it lift, so I just stuff it under the Castle Hill beanie Jonah gave me. It’ll keep my head warm in this brisk winter weather we’ve been having.
Mimi is decked out in her own rocker attire and looks like a glittery rockstar girlfriend with her overdone makeup, but not too overdone. Somehow, she strikes the perfect balance.
She insisted on doing my face, so I’m made up too. Mimi definitely knows her way around makeup brushes and eyeliner pencils. She even tweezed my eyebrows. I admit it, I don’t look half bad.
Downtown Castle Hill is a picture postcard of a quaint little town with its chic shops, cute boutiques and pastry bakeries on the main street. Most of them are closed this late, but a bar is lit up and thumping with live music. You can tell from a distance it’s some kind of hard rock band. That’ll work.
There’s no line to get in because everyone’s already inside.
They don’t card us because they aren’t serving liquor. Mimi pays our cover before I have a chance to offer and we follow the work-study boys inside. The place is packed and you can’t see the stage from the entrance. We squeeze through the crowd until we get to the side where we can see the corner of the stage around the huge PA speakers. I’m already nodding my head to the beat. You know it’s a good band when you’ve never heard a single song and they sound great live. Singer’s got a great voice, too.
I have to lean between shoulders and tiptoe to get a view of the stage.
When I see the lead singer, I laugh, “No effing way!” I grin at Mimi. “Are you serious?!”
She’s grinning from ear to ear. She yells over the load music, “I told you it’d be worth it!”
On stage are Rob tearing up the lead vocals, Skill shredding on guitar, Jonah banging away at his bass, and Tucker smashing up the drums. No wonder they’ve been so busy and I never see them at the academy. They’ve probably been rehearsing every single night to sound this good.
They all wear jeans and boots instead of their customary coveralls. No shirts. And do they ever have the bodies for it. Jonah is humongous, all muscles, but very defined. Rob and Skill are even more cut and rugged, but not as huge as Jonah. For accessories, I see bracelets, chains, black eyeliner, and more tattoos than usual. Behind the drum kit, Tucker wears only shorts and shoes, and oh my, is his body divine. I notice his bass drum head says Outlaw Merriment and the big banner hanging behind the band also says Outlaw Merriment in the same savage font.
Rob’s legs are thrust apart and he leans into the mic, singing:
“Lost in your lightning eyes,
“Dreaming of your tightened thighs,
“Dying for another try,
“Rip my heart you say goodbye!”
Can Rob sing?
Ohmygod, can he. His voice is a velvet glove caressing your chest. The loud PA speakers help with the sensual feeling of total vocal invasion, like he’s sliding inside me with every thrusting note he sings.
Jonah and Skill join in to harmonize the chorus.
“Forrrrr evvvvv-er one!
“Liiiiife oooon the run!”
Mimi pushes me forward until I’m front of her and she screams over my shoulder, “Sing it, Rob!”
He turns and sees me, pointing at me as he finishes the chorus.
“Forrrrr evvvvv-er one!
“With-ouuut you I’m done!”
When the chorus finishes, Skill, Jonah and Tucker continue playing. Rob nods his head in time with the beat for half a bar before growling into the mic and improvising, “Without you I’m done, Mary!” Rob tosses me a wink before kicking the air for emphasis.
Mimi squeals beside me, grabbing me and jumping me up and down with her while hugging me and cheering, “Did you hear that?! He just sang to you, Mary!”
It’s not like it’s the Ramones or Sex Pistols singing at me but I’m laughing giddily anyway as we bounce off the surrounding crowd. I can’t say I’ve had the honor of having a boy write a song for me, but this is the next best thing.
For the next forty-five minutes, Rob teases me, singing my name from time to time from the stage, always mixing it into the lyrics. I get plenty of attention from Skill and Jonah too whenever they’re on my side of the stage. D
uring a guitar solo, Skill has his guitar jammed between his legs with the headstock jutting out over the crowd like he wants me to grab it. I would if I could reach it, but I’m not tall enough. Mimi is and she does, tugging on the guitar neck flirtatiously and flicking her tongue at him suggestively. I snort in disgust. Skill of course pretends to come when she does it. I laugh at that. Tucker doesn’t get up from behind his drum kit during the show, but he frequently catches my eye and flashes smiles my way, letting me know he sees me seeing him.
Did I mention every female in the audience is drooling over the band? More than a few notice Rob fawning over me and flash jealous smiles, some appreciative, others hateful. I don’t care. I’ve never had so much fun watching a band ever, and I’ve been to quite a few shows since turning old enough for the all ages venues.
When it’s over, I’m spent. Meems and I cheered our hearts out the whole time.
I’m so glad I snuck out with her.
Hopefully we can sneak back on campus without getting caught.
Chapter 30
“We have to go to the after party,” Mimi demands outside. The crowds are heading to their cars and driving into the night.
I ask, “Shouldn’t we be getting back to campus before Brawny realizes we’re gone?”
“No! After party, bitch!” Mimi laughs.
“Who’s hosting?”
“The band, obvi,” Mimi grins.
How can I say no?
Since the Halloween party, I haven’t had a chance to talk to Rob for more than brief hellos when we cross paths on campus. Can I tell you how annoying that is? It’s not like he’s ghosting me. He always has a warm smile when we see each other, and always says something encouraging, but he always has something else he needs to go do, like he’s the busiest man on the planet.
I guess after tonight I know why. If I had my own damn band, I’d be pretty damn busy too. Does it make me like Rob that much more? Of course it does. Maybe I can catch him alone tonight and figure out where we stand. I mean, I slept in his effing bed! I would very much like to continue from where we left off, aka me spending more nights with him. If that’s not what he wants, I at least want him to say so.
Meems and I pile into the Plant Services van with the work-study boys, and several work-study girls I recognize. They immediately start flirting with the boys while we drive down dark twisty mountain roads. I have no idea where we are.
We end up in a dirt parking lot hidden deep in the trees. It’s already full of cars and people are migrating into the forest. The work-study boys who took us here unload kegs from the back of the van. I should’ve noticed but they were hidden under moving blankets until now. The boys roll them on dollies into the woods. It’s a short walk to a bunch of picnic tables and several huge campfires burning in rock pits. Music plays on a portable set of big PA speakers hooked up to someone’s phone. The songs are Outlaw Merriment. I recognize Rob’s voice and the choruses.
There’s lots of kids here partying I don’t recognize. Kids from Castle Hill the town maybe? I don’t know.
Mimi and I chitchat with a bunch of the work-study kids. Luna from the Castle Hill salon is there, and several other girls I’ve gotten to know. I toss caution to the wind and drink beer from the red plastic SOLO cup Mimi hands me. Feels so familiar I can’t resist. I pace myself so I don’t end up drunk, but it’s not like we’re driving back. I keep an eye on our drivers. One tells me he’s designated, but I watch him anyway. True to his word, he doesn’t drink a drop.
Finally, the band arrives.
Rob and the Poor Boys.
Or should I say, Outlaw Merriment.
The kids cheer when they stroll into the orange light of the campfires. I can’t even get close to them. Mimi and I hang back while they soak up the spotlight. Eventually, Skill makes his way over to me and Meems at the edge of the crowd.
He says to her, “You sure know how to work my headstock.”
“You’re bad,” Mimi laughs and slaps his muscled shoulder before sipping her beer to hide her blushing.
Skill gives me his grin, “Why didn’t you grab my headstock, War Paint?”
“I couldn’t reach,” I snicker.
“You can now,” he says, hooking his thumbs in his belt and thrusting his hips toward me.
“I am not giving you a handjob,” I laugh. “That costs extra, remember?”
“I told you before, name a price, War Paint, and I’ll pay.”
“Pay for what?” Rob says, interjecting himself into the conversation when he walks up.
“Hey, you!” I smile.
Rob picks me up in a hug and spins me around, nearly knocking Skill out of the way with my spinning boots.
Skill frowns in irritation.
“How you been, Mouth?” Rob asks, sounding like my older brother or something.
“Mouth?” Skill chuckles. “You call her Mouth? Show some respect, Rob!”
“Look who’s talking, handjob. I heard what you said to her,” Rob gives Skill a friendly shove.
Skill stumbles back and laughs, “Take it easy on the talent.” His voice is a mixture of deference and irritation, like he wants to bite back but doesn’t.
Rob rolls his eyes and says to me, “How’d you like the show?”
Mimi butts in, “It was fucking awesome! You guys seriously fucking rock!”
“Thanks,” Rob smiles but he’s embarrassed by the compliment. “What’d you think, Mouth?”
“Mmm,” I shrug. “I’ve seen better.”
“Bullshit,” Skill laughs. “Nobody can rip a solo like I can.”
“It’s true,” Rob says supportively.
I crinkle my nose, “Erm, pretty sure you guys were out of tune half the time.” I’m lying for effect.
“Now that is bullshit,” Skill laughs.
Rob grins, “He has perfect pitch. We’re never out of tune.”
“Maybe he isn’t,” I smirk, “but you were.”
Skill snickers.
Rob is chuckling, but there’s a vulnerability to it, like maybe he thinks I’m right. It’s a side of Rob I never imagined might be there. A side that isn’t one thousand percent confident in everything he does, or walking out of the woods with black blood up to your forearms like it’s business as usual. This Rob is different.
Feeling bad for him, I say, “You sounded perfect on stage. You guys are really good.”
Rob looks relieved.
“There she is!” Tucker walks up with Jonah in tow.
“Hey, kid,” Jonah smiles at me. “Still workin’ the beanie.”
“You know it!” I laugh. Before I know what’s happening, Tucker sweeps me off my feet and lays me out like a ballroom dance move, except he’s actually holding me up off the ground by my shoulders and ass with me floating on my back and my ankles dangling in the dirt. His nose hovers an inch from mine. The world disappears and all I see are his mesmerizing eyes.
“Kiss me, hotness,” he says softly.
“Hotness?” I giggle. Before I can say more, he kisses me.
His insistence is impossible to resist. His tongue strains inside my mouth: hot, hard, and filling me with his throbbing need. This man is overwhelming.
I clutch his T-shirt and moan, kissing back.
“Give her room to breathe, Tuck,” Rob chuckles, irritated.
Tucker pulls out of my mouth and lifts me to standing, his wicked eyes shining with feral desire. He clearly wasn’t done and glares at Rob like he’s angry for the interruption.
Rob arches an eyebrow in challenge.
Tucker starts to snarl, his face flickering fury.
It wasn’t that long ago that Tucker and Prince were fighting over me before the All Hallows’ Ball. Here Tucker is doing it again, and with his friend, no less. How is that possible? Especially now. Mimi is standing right next to me, and she is so obviously hot enough to fight over. But me? Not so much. I don’t get it. The main thing is, I really don’t want Rob and his friends actually fighting each other over
me or anybody else. Friends shouldn’t ever fight each other. There’s more than enough enemies in the world to fight, you don’t go fighting your friends. That’s why you have them.
“Wow, what was that, Tucker?!” I laugh, trying to play it down. I’m totally kidding, pretending I didn’t like it so nobody gets mad.
“Yeah, Tucker,” Mimi snickers. “You attacked her.”
“You’re next,” he grunts, eyes all over her.
“Ew!” Mimi giggles, obviously liking the idea because she’s totally blushing but pretending not to.
Tucker looks ready to ravish her like he did me.
“Anyway,” I say, trying to cut the sexual tension, “You guys were amazing tonight. How come you never told me you have a band?” I flick my eyes between the four of them.
Skill winks, “We’re mysterious like that.”
“I’ll say,” I grin. “What other secrets are you guys hiding?”
The four Poor Boys exchange a strange look.
Skill says, “Mimi, you mind giving us a minute? We need to talk business.”
“Sure,” she shrugs. “Come on, Mare Bear. The boys need to be mysterious, per usual.” She grabs my hand to lead me back to the rest of the crowd.
“Mary stays,” Rob says.
“What?” Mimi asks over her shoulder.
“We want to talk to her.”
I look at Mimi.
She shrugs. “You’ll be safe with them. I’ll be over by the kegs.”
“Okay, see ya.” I put my hands in my jeans pockets and look at the four Poor Boys. “What’s the mystery?”
“Have a seat,” Rob says, motioning to a picnic bench.
I sit down on the table top with my boots on the bench and the four of them surrounding me. I can’t say as I’ve ever had four gorgeous men crowd around me like this, prying at me with their penetrating eyes. It’s a trifle frightening but mostly it makes me giddy. They’re as dangerously dashing as the night I met them at the cannibals’ GTO, the night I ran away. In the dim light of the campfires now, I see in them the same sharp edges I saw that night two months ago. So much has happened since then. The biggest surprise is these four seem to be a permanent part of my new life. I can’t complain.