by Fox, Logan
When I turn back to the girl, she’s less than a foot away from me again.
“Let me cut you on the other side,” she says through her teeth. “Then that face of yours will be all symmetrical again.”
This time, when she goes to slap me, I duck under her arm, lunge against her, and force her to the ground. She lands on her back in the grass beside the school steps, and I immediately straddle her.
“Look, bitch,” I spit, my cut aching how I’m clenching my teeth. “I don’t know who you think you are, but you’d better get one thing straight.”
“Briar!” Marcus calls out, but I ignore him.
She squirms furiously under me, but I catch her hands and pin them to her chest before she can try and scratch out my eyes or, judging from experience, try for an uppercut. Fuck, she’s getting me hard, wriggling around like that between my legs.
“Get off me!” she yells.
I grind her wrist bones together so hard, her face goes white.
“Briar!” Dylan this time.
But she doesn’t scream out in pain, or stop struggling.
“No one, no one, talks shit about me. Got it?”
“We both know what you tried to do,” she whispers through a grimace, finally relaxing under me.
A whistle blows.
I’d been so fixated on her, I hadn’t even seen Mr. Denard, the French teacher, walking up to us. As soon as I spot him, I let out a low growl and push up to a stand.
The girl scrambles up a second later, cheeks flushed and the whites of her eyes too bright in comparison. She points at me with a shaking hand. “Sir, this guy—”
“Are you the new one?” Denard asks, arching a single eyebrow at her. His lip twitches as if the mere sight of her disgusts him. He’s dressed in black suit pants, a cream dress shirt, and a black suit vest.
“That she is,” I say, stepping up to Denard and holding out my hand for him to shake.
Denard turns his attention to me, and his expression softens a little, but not enough. Thank fuck it was him who came out here to investigate.
I let out a low chuckle, grab his hand, and give it a good pump. “Elle est tombée dans les pommes. But don’t worry, Sir, I have this under control.”
“Wh-what?” the girl demands. She hasn’t even bothered dusting herself off, or readjusting her clothes. Right now, it does look like I tried to get lucky with her.
Denard glances at her, and this time his lips pull into a full sneer. “Perhaps if you ate more, child, then you wouldn’t be swooning all the time.”
The girl blinks, and then glances over her shoulder at Addison as if for support. Addison drops her eyes, her mouth going into a line, but she says nothing.
Denard clicks his fingers at her. “What was your name again? Virgin? Virgile?”
Immediately, the crowd surrounding us begins murmuring, “Virgin,” through a slowly building wave of giggles.
“Virgo!” The girl throws me a quick scowl, as if loathe to reveal any personal information in front of me. “Indi Virgo.”
“Best get yourself to homeroom, Miss Virgo,” Denard says. He’s been teaching French at Lavish for over two years, but he still has traces of an accent.
I know it’s on purpose.
“What?” Indi takes a step closer, her hands balling up as if she wants to attack the teacher next. “But, he just—”
“Now.” Denard’s face sets into an expressionless mask.
Around us, students start gathering, anticipating an even bigger showdown. Indi glances around, and as if realizing that her audience just doubled in size, she murmurs. “Sir, you don’t understand. He tried to—”
Denard tilts his head. “Keep going, Miss Virgo. My detention class could always use more students.”
Indi lets out a strangled sound. Her mouth opens and closes a few times, and then her shoulders slump.
“Is that all?” Denard asks, lowering his arm.
She nods, her mouth so tight it begins to tremble.
“Very well then.” Denard sniffs. “Now get to class.”
Indi manages a tiny nod, and her throat moves as she swallows.
Denard turns to walk away, and then pauses mid step to peer at Indi over his shoulder.
“Welcome to Lavish Prep, Miss Virgo.”
* * *
Indi
Did that just happen? Did a teacher of this godforsaken school honestly crap me out after he saw that guy on top of me? I’m so pissed off, I can barely fucking breathe.
“Hey, virgin!”
I have no idea who the hell shouted that, but before I can find out, someone grabs the back of my shirt and tugs. In fact, they tug so hard that one of my buttons pop off. I’m hauled several feet away before I can free myself.
Addy glares at me when I turn to give her a piece of my flaming mind.
“Seriously don’t know how to read a room, do you?” she mutters.
My eyes go wide. “You too?” I say, contempt dripping from every word.
Addison cocks her head. “Do you know who that was?”
“No,” I say through an indignant laugh. “But if I did, I’d be at the police station, not—”
“That’s Briar. Prince Briar, the Third.”
I try to glance over my shoulder, a laugh rattling in my throat. “You’re a fucking prince?” I yell out.
Briar cocks his head at me, a smile touching his lips. Then he spreads his hands to either side, as if to show off his mouth-watering physique.
Last night I barely got more than a glimpse of the guy; he was all shadows and square jawbone. Now in the daylight, I realize I was tousling with a six-foot-something teenage Adonis. Sandy, windswept hair, crystal blue eyes, and a face that captained those thousand ships launched for Helen of Troy.
Addy grabs my sleeve and rushes for the school, hauling me after her.
“Let go!”
“This is for your own good.”
“What the hell’s that supposed to mean?”
“Just shut up, Indi! Fuck!”
There’s so much vehemence in Addison’s voice, I stop fighting and let her drag me into the school proper. A few students flow in with us — obviously bored now that the morning’s entertainment is over. Addison pulls me into a nearby corner and looks around as if this is a known mugging spot.
My chest is too tight to speak. The fists at my sides are aching how I’m holding myself back. But when Addison finally turns her gaze on me, all my anger — my indignation — melts away.
Her brown eyes are drenched with sadness, frustration, regret; her mouth an upside-down smile.
“What is it?” I whisper. “Addy, what’s wrong?”
“Don’t you ever, ever get close to that guy again. Hear me?”
I open my mouth, but she’s not done.
“I mean it, Indi. If you see him coming down the hall, you go the other way. Got it?”
“Addy, I don’t—”
“Say it.” Addison’s teeth flash white as she grits them at me. “Say it!”
I’ve had just about enough of being bullied by every second person in Lavish. But, at the same time, I’m utterly drained after everything that’s just happened.
I can’t handle this kind of shit. The last thing I want is people treating me different, but holy crap, what happened to just treating someone normally? I’ve never felt this out of place in my life. It’s like I have this massive target painted on my back.
And why? Because I got pissed off that Prince — Prince? — Briar tried to get with me last night in the middle of the woods? That I don’t feel he should be allowed to get away with behavior like that?
I want to fight. I so desperately need to fight, but I’ve got no energy left.
“Got it,” I mutter. “Now tell me what the hell—”
“Later. I have to get to homeroom.” Addison spins away from me, and I glimpse moisture glimmering on her lashes before she strides away.
My back thumps into the wall behind me. I stiffen my legs just in time b
efore I can slide down and sit on the floor like an idiot.
I let out a soft laugh, and run my hands over my face.
What the hell have I gotten myself into?
* * *
Briar
“The fuck was that?” Marcus says.
I glance at him, and force my shoulders to relax. “The new girl, I guess.”
“Yeah, but why was she saying all that shit?”
I can’t look at Marcus. I already feel Dylan and Zak’s eyes boring into me, demanding answers. I don’t have their fucking answers. Not back then, not now.
“You saw who she was with,” I snap, facing him in a rush. “Addison wasted no time.”
“Fuck,” Marcus mutters, hitting his vape. “Could be bad for you, mate.”
“Yeah, no shit.” I grind my teeth, staring back at the school building and wishing I could see through the walls.
Of course this is bad. Far from being afraid of me, it looks like this girl — Indi? — wants to rat me out for what happened last night. And it would be my fault, of course. Doesn’t matter I was protecting my property against a trespasser.
I lost control, just like before, and now I’m stuck with the consequences…just like before.
Marcus moves in my peripheries, and I start nodding my head. If it weren’t for him, I’d be in juvie, no doubt. Maybe even prison, charged as an adult instead of a minor, who the fuck knows?
I click my fingers for his vape. He hands it over, but even after what he just witnessed, I can see he’s distracted. Probably wondering how long he has to stay at my house to avoid his father. Or rehashing whatever led to last night’s beating.
“Thing is,” I say slowly, before taking a tug. When I speak, my words escape with faint puffs of vapor. “She wouldn’t be a problem if she’s not going to school here anymore.”
Marcus’s eyes dart to me. He smiles, but the gesture lacks any real mirth. “Gonna take a lot for her to quit. Especially if her folks are hard set against her going to public school.”
Lavish was so small, it only had two high schools — Lavish High and Lavish Preparatory School. The high school was probably just as good, education wise, but public schools in Fool’s Gold have a hectic stigma attached to them.
“Far as I recall, we can be a tenacious fucking bunch,” I say, sweeping my arm out to include Dylan and Zak. They chuckle to themselves, Zak elbowing Dylan in the side as if they’re sharing a private joke. “And honestly, I think she’s all bark and no bite.”
Marcus nods, and focuses to the distant horizon. Hopefully to start planning the imminent demise of one Indi Virgo.
And thank fuck for that. Using Indi as a distraction would be the best way to get him out of his slump. And it’d make my life a fuck ton easier if she wasn’t around as a constant reminder of just how little it takes for me to lose control.
“Think she’s really a virgin?”
I snap out of my thoughts and frown at Marcus. He’s wearing a strangely thoughtful expression, as if he’s genuinely curious.
“Fucked if I know.”
From what I saw last night? It’s possible. But she’s way too fucking beautiful to have not been a target of every single teenage boy in whatever high school she came from.
Except if she was homeschooled. She kinda looks like the type.
Hmmm.
“Love to pop me another cherry,” Marcus murmurs, but as if to himself.
I let out a low chuckle, but then cut off and frown to myself. “When did you ever fuck a virgin?” I ask through a laugh.
Marcus glances at me as if surprised I’d heard me. “What? Oh.” He laughs, and waves away the question. “Some fugly chick from MU.”
I shake my head at him. We sometimes get students from Mallhaven University in Lavish. Karma Lounge plays the best hard house and trip hop on the weekends, and MU’s students flock to it. Strange that I didn’t know about him taking someone’s v-card, but I guess Marcus isn’t sworn to tell me every fucking ass he pounds.
“Virgo. Virgin.” I pinch my bottom lip. “It’s almost too fucking easy.”
Marcus lets out a low chuckle. “Virgins usually are.”
When I laugh, Dylan and Zak join me.
“Got any ideas?” Dylan asks, stepping up to me and Marcus.
“Plenty,” I say through a grin. “Dylan, make sure that chick of yours knows something is going down in Homeroom today.”
Dylan nods as he slides his phone from his blazer and types out a text to his fuck-buddy, Cindy.
For the first time since I climbed through his bedroom window last night, Marcus’s lips curl into a genuine smile. “This is gonna be fun.”
I nod, having to force my own grin.
He doesn’t know it yet, but if she doesn’t back down then this shit’s going to go way beyond anything considered ‘fun.’
I’m sending Indi Virgo straight back to wherever she came from. She’ll wish she never fucking set foot in my town.
Chapter Six
Indi
Homeroom is on the second floor, and when I walk through the door, the first person I see is Briar. I’m not surprised he got here before me — I had to find my locker first, and then locate this classroom. Textbooks for each of my classes were already inside my locker, and I’d just stared at them for a few moments. I know I can change the combination on my locker, but this doesn’t bode well for my privacy at Lavish Prep.
Luckily, Briar hasn’t noticed me yet. He’s sitting in the far back of the class, busy on his phone.
Some of the other students are busy texting too, others doing last-minute homework or chatting with friends.
I’d hoped Addison was in my homeroom, but a quick glance establishes that’s not the case.
Nope, just me and Prince Briar.
I’d chalk it up to coincidence, but after the morning I’ve had…I’m starting to think this is a conspiracy of global fucking proportions.
“You must be Indigo,” a voice behind me announces.
I cringe at the use of my full name as I glance over my shoulder. A lady stands just outside the class I’m blocking the entrance to, studying me.
This must be Ms. Parsons, my homeroom teacher. She’s dressed in Bohemian-style clothes — a loose, flowing skirt, tasseled vest, and a blouse with full sleeves, all in neutral, earthy tones. Her tortoiseshell glasses are propped on a slim nose and her mousy hair — which there’s a lot of — is gathered in a messy, loose braid.
“Why don’t you go take a seat?” she says, her eyes curving as she smiles and points out the closest empty desk.
I nod and hurry to it, keeping my head down so I don’t accidentally make eye contact with anyone.
Like Briar.
After what happened outside the school this morning, I’m doing my best not to attract unwanted attention. After all, it’s been made pretty damn clear no one’s on my side.
“Morning, class!” Ms. Parsons says as she makes her way to a desk overflowing with books, files, and wilted flowers. “Did we all have amazing weekends?”
A few “Yeah’s,” and “Sure’s,” are thrown back from just about everyone except Briar.
That’s because the Prince of Lavish Prep has suddenly decided to train his attention on me. His gaze is so intent, I feel like I’m melting inside.
“Anyone have anything to share before I start with announcements?”
The general consensus is a mumbled, “No.”
“All right.” The teacher shoves aside a stack of papers and perches on the edge of her desk. “We have a new student to welcome this morning. Can you all give Indigo Virgo a nice—”
“Indi,” I cut in with a grimace.
The teacher’s mouth is still open, but it had to be said. If I don’t nip this in the bud, every Tom, Dick and Jock Idiot will be calling me Indigo. And my new fun surname, Virgin.
“Oh?” Parsons nods her head. “Then let’s all welcome Indi to Lavish Prep.” She begins clapping, but only a handful of students bother
to join her.
Every single student in homeroom decided to look at me, though, so there’s that. I thin my lips and raise a hesitant hand, giving them a small wave.
Nobody waves back.
And then the murmurs begin.
That’s the virgin?
Heard she fainted.
Got a thing for Briar.
Fuck.
Briar gives me another of his shark-like grins.
Holy crap. Tough crowd.
Maybe it’s because I was brave enough to stand up to their deviant Briar. I guess that kind of stuff just doesn’t fly around here, especially judging from that French teacher’s response.
“Now, who would like to volunteer to buddy up with Indi for the first week?”
Wait…what?
Too late, I realize I’m gaping at Ms. Parsons. And in that moment, I lose every chance of declaring myself unfit for supervision. I mean, shit, I’m seventeen, not seven.
“I’ll be happy to do her, Ms. Parsons.”
The class roars with laughter.
Ms. Parsons — idiotic flower child she is — doesn’t seem to notice Briar’s Freudian slip.
I do.
My eyes go wide. My chest tightens.
Briar has his hand up real fucking high. He’s wearing a grin that I can tell is both smug and weaselly, but one which Ms. Parsons seems to think is completely innocent.
“Why, Prince,” Ms. Parsons enthuses as she stands, a hand to her chest. “That’s marvelous.” She turns to me, and points between me and Briar as if this is some kind of special school where your IQ has to be in the single digits before you can even apply.
“Indi? Prince will be your Lavish Buddy this week. He’ll show you around and help you find all your classes.”
Briar grimaces at that, and there’s a moment where my utter panic flutters into pure ecstasy.
So I guess his first name’s Prince and — just like me — he despises it to the n’th degree.
But no one’s staring at him. Everyone is staring at me. And the weight of all those expectant eyes compels me to let out a reluctant, “Thanks.”