The Initiation: A High School Light Bully Romance (Beverly Hills Prep Academy Book 1)

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The Initiation: A High School Light Bully Romance (Beverly Hills Prep Academy Book 1) Page 1

by Melissa Adams




  The Initiation

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Dedication

  The Initiation (Beverly Hills Prep Academy)

  1. | New Girl

  2. | Staying Away

  3. | A Midnight Kiss

  4. | Interactions

  5. | Party Hard

  6. | Cruel Intentions

  7. | Rules Of Engagement

  8. | Call Me... Maybe?

  9. | Tests

  10. | Quid Pro Quo*

  11. | Blast From The Past

  12. | Lost And Found

  13. | Pros And Cons

  14. | Family Ties

  15. | Homecoming

  16. | Ghosts Of Wednesdays Past

  17. | The Initiation

  18. | Thankful

  19. | Boys Will Be Boys

  20. | Dangerous Liaisons

  21. | Yale

  22. | Wanna Bet?

  23. | Going Down

  24. | Christmas Day Massacre

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgements

  Sign up for Melissa Adams's Mailing List

  To the boy who saved me from my bully.

  The knights in shining armour aren’t always the most obvious ones.

  Warning: This is a Light Bully Romance. This means that the men in Ayla's harem won't always behave nicely and will sometimes be harsh and often be victim of their own flaws.

  Every sexual act or situation described in this story is completely consensual and takes place between two adults (except for maybe one time when Ayla is still seventeen but it's a milder scene).

  Possible trigger warnings might be: mild gang violence, underage (21) drinking and drug misuse.

  Finally this book’s spelling is British (like the author): so if you see neighbours instead of neighbors, centre instead of center and a few other different spellings it's because of that, they aren't typos.

  1.

  New Girl

  Ayla

  “Good morning. I’m here to pick up my schedule.”

  The school secretary looks at me with an indulgent smile and nods towards the silky orange and grey scarf that is a compulsory part of my uniform.

  “Miss...?”

  “Jennings. Ayla Jennings.”

  “Miss Jennings, do you have a copy of the BHPA grooming regulations?”

  I look at my backpack with a touch of hesitation: the school sent an enrollment pack that consisted, I shit you not, of an iPad Pro.

  Aside from the fact that it was the most advanced piece of technology in my house, it contained all my text books for the school year and the million different rules and guidelines that the students at Beverly Hills Prep Academy have to abide to.

  Mrs. Avery brings up the grooming manual on her flat screen and shows me that the senior year orange and grey scarf has to be worn at all times during the whole school day except for PE and can be tied in the two permitted styles: ‘Competition Style’ which is leaving two long strands of the scarf by the right side of the neck and shoulders and reminds me a bit of the aviators in the old Hollywood movies I love to watch.

  Alternatively ‘Pussy Bow Style’ is in fact a fluffy bow still worn on the right side of your neck.

  I sigh and start tying the bow while the secretary brings up and prints a copy of my schedule.

  “Oh...”

  She looks at me, taken aback and I’m ready to swear that I’m going to go tie my scarf in front of a mirror when she hands me a red slip of paper.

  “Miss Jennings, I had no idea that you were one of our A-Class seniors.”

  I must look as confused as I feel because she explains.

  “You have a perfect GPA from your old school in Illinois and you received one hundred percent in all the sections of our entrance exam.

  That means that you are one of the twenty students in our Advanced Senior Class: the A-Class.

  You will not be moving from class to class during your school day, it will be your teachers who come to the A-Room to deliver their classes, which are all AP classes. Your curriculum is predetermined and no changes are allowed, I’m afraid. This also means that you will attend classes with the same people in every single class for the whole school year. But graduating from our A-Class translates in being offered a spot in virtually every Ivy League School in North America.”

  “Oh... Uhm... Thank you?”

  This is something I didn’t expect.

  No one even told me about this A-Class.

  “Please, walk to the end of the corridor to room twenty five. That’s your class. You will have home room and study periods in that class too. Welcome to BHPA, Miss Jennings and good luck.”

  I walk out of the office looking at the map on the back of my schedule and I’m so concerned about finding the right room that I don’t see the couple walking in the opposite direction.

  I walk right into them and the guy is so tall and big that it’s like crashing against a wall.

  “Hey! Watch where you're going, you stupid bitch!”

  It’s a feminine voice, so high pitch that I almost have to protect my ears with my hands.

  It belongs to a really short, petite girl with a shiny perfect bob of blonde hair and an obvious disregard for the grooming regulations that Mrs. Avery has just reminded me of, because not only she isn’t wearing a scarf but she’s rocking a red, lacy half cup bra that shows through the white shirt of our school uniform.

  The guy has raven black hair and piercing blue eyes and he must be at least six foot four.

  The corner of his upper lip lifts in a smirk while he gives me a once over, his gaze stopping level with my chest.

  The girl doesn’t miss what kind of appraisal her boyfriend is performing because she scowls:

  “Seriously, Sam! Do you need fucking glasses or what? She’s fugly!”

  The guy’s gaze hardens but his voice remains even, almost making him sound bored.

  “Well, Michelle! You should've thought about how this would feel when you fucked your piano instructor at that music summer camp... Because of that, we aren't together anymore!”

  Michelle pushes him, irritated but he’s as solid as a brick wall and doesn't budge in the slightest.

  “I just sucked your dick in your car, in the fucking school parking lot!”

  He smiles evilly and doesn't even bother looking at her:

  “Well, that speaks volumes about your character then, doesn't it?”

  She gasps, outraged and chases after him protesting.

  “But, Sam! I love you...”

  “Not my problem, darling. If you feel like sucking cock, you know where to find me, otherwise I'm sure I’ll manage just fine.”

  He walks towards the end of the corridor, leaving Michelle gaping at his back.

  But her shock isn't long lived because she turns to me and snaps:

  “If you think that you have a chance with him, you're wrong, new girl! Sam is mine, you better get that in your bottle red head!”

  I don't even bother correcting her erroneous assumption that my auburn hair is the result of a good hairdressers work but put her straight on the other assumption that I’m interested in Sam.

  “Sure. I don't know who the heck you or your boyfriend are. I just got here. I was just trying to find my class.”

  I don't tell her that despite Sam being absolutely drop dead gorgeous, I could never be interested in a guy who lets his ex give him a blow job knowing full well that he's no longer interested in her.

 
I walk away in the same direction Sam went: Mrs. Avery did mention the end of the corridor and the first bell rang a few minutes ago.

  EM

  I PARK MY JEEP NEAR Alex's Porsche and look at my reflection in the rear view mirror: this year things will be different.

  This year I’ll be initiated into the midst of the A-Team: I have both the looks and the achievements they are looking for.

  I lock my car and after picking up my schedule, I head for my locker: I made it into the A-Class and I worked out all summer so I’m ready for football tryouts.

  Jenna, my crush since freshman year, comes past me, gives me an appreciative once over and then runs along towards our new classroom.

  No recognition flickers in her brown eyes and I let a slow smile form on my lips.

  My so called friends haven't seen me since the end of our junior year back in June and I bet that none of them will recognise me.

  I pop into the boys bathroom to make sure that I look good and I smile at my reflection in the mirror.

  My nickname at school since freshman year is EM, short for Egg Man.

  It was Alex who cruelly gave me that nickname on our very first day of high school because I was short, fat, wore glasses and according to him I resembled Humpty Dumpty... Hence, Egg Man.

  At first it hurt and I tried to fight it but then I decided to roll with it and use it to my advantage rather than let it hurt me.

  Alex and the A-Team loved making fun of me, sure, but it was mostly a friendly ribbing and the fact that they didn't see me as a threat to their popularity and I put my IT skills at their service, made them unofficially accept me into their group.

  I was a mascot of sorts and I got to hang out with them, to know all their secrets.

  But this year I’ve changed: I’m athletic, I grew ten inches and lost fifty pounds during the summer, I wear contacts and I look as good as any of the A-Team: the most popular guys in school.

  This year, I won't be their little pity mascot, I’ll be one of them.

  I leave the bathroom just as the second bell rings and I make my way to room twenty five: A-Class and A-Team, here I come!

  This year is going to be epic.

  When I get to the door, I almost walk straight into a petite girl who's standing in front of the door.

  She’s looking at the door knob as if it could actually bite her if she touched it.

  I look at her from behind: she has long, silky dark auburn hair, a thin waist and slim legs.

  “Hey! Are you going to get inside? Or are you looking for a different class? This is the A-Class. If you are lost, I can...”

  When she turns to face me, I’m stunned by her beautiful green eyes, shadowed by the longest eyelashes I’ve ever seen.

  She’s wearing very little make-up but somehow her natural look makes her all the more beautiful.

  “No, sorry. It's the right class, I was just—”

  She takes a deep breath as if bracing herself for something and when she opens the door, I follow her inside the room.

  The laughter and chitchat noise die down as soon as we enter the classroom and everyone turns to stare at me and the new girl.

  I meet Alex’s gaze straight away: he’s sitting on a desk and holding court surrounded by the rest of the A-Team and a few of the girls in the class.

  His blonde hair is cut super short at the back and sides of his head and longer on the top of his head, falling defiantly on one side of his forehead.

  His dark blue eyes skim repeatedly over the new girl and his gaze hardens when they rest on me.

  “Can we help you? This is the A-Class, if you need directions for your own home room.”

  New girl produces a red slip and smiles tentatively.

  “I was told the A-Class was the class I should find.”

  Alex smirks and offers his most charming smile:

  “I see... We have fresh meat. It's very rare for anyone who hasn't attended their whole high school career at BHPA to get into the Senior A-Class. There must be more to you than just red hair and tits...”

  New girl blushes and her lips tighten in a straight line: she looks furious and absolutely adorable.

  “Well, since you are in this class too, there must be more to you than just muscles and chauvinism.”

  Alex’s smile widens.

  “Feisty! Ooohhh...”

  New girl glares at him and then goes to sit at a desk in the second row.

  Alex turns his attention to me and his gaze is not nearly as amused as it was with new girl.

  “What about you, dude? We get all the smart new people today.... What’s your name?”

  I take a deep breath before answering.

  Now see, my name is also Alex.

  This is why I hope to get accepted and initiated into the A-Team.

  The A-team consists of three guys and... They are all called Alex.

  However, being the Alpha male that he is, only Alex is allowed to go by his given name.

  The other two go by nicknames Alex picked for them.

  There’s Sam: his first name is obviously Alex but his last name is Samson, hence Sam.

  And Tuna: first name also Alex but there was a bit of a surfing accident where Tuna saw a fin at a distance while surfing with the other two and freaked out, thinking it was a shark, but it was a huge tuna fish.

  From that day onwards he has been known as Tuna.

  Now, I know way too well that I can't use my first name and that most probably, I’ll always be Egg Man.

  So I just own up to it.

  “I’m surprised you didn't recognise me.”

  And recognition is the emotion that flashes into Alex’s eyes.

  Possibly mixed with a bit of surprise and a whole lot of annoyance.

  “Egg Man? What the fuck did you do? Did you spend all summer throwing up all those twinkies you used to snack on? Holy shit, dude! Next thing I know, you’ll be trying out for the football team...”

  Everybody is staring at me, including Jenna, so I smile a little embarrassed and nod.

  “That’s the plan...”

  Alex’s expression hardens for a second but then he must decide to play nice in front of the whole A-Class, so he claps me on the back and smiles, magnanimous:

  “Fuck, if I’m not proud of you! The caterpillar turned into a little butterfly! If you get into the team, you might have a shot at the A-Team!”

  That's exactly what I want but I know better than to make Alex privy to something I actually want: he has a bit of a God complex.

  He thinks that he's the king of BHPA and he determines others social status at school.

  Obviously Alex comes from one of the richest families in the country, easily the richest in California.

  He’s the school quarterback, his parties are legendary and any girl would kill to catch his attention even for just one night, because after being seen with Alex, she could have her pick of anyone she wanted at BHPA.

  Of course, being accepted into Alex's inner circle, means having all sorts of perks.

  It means having the best of the best and being at the top of the food chain here at BHPA.

  To be considered a part of the A-Team, your first name must be Alex, you need to come from money and be part of the BHPA varsity football team.

  Legend has it that a few guys legally changed their name to Alex to be accepted but so far only Sam and Tuna have been that lucky.

  I’ve always wanted the A-Team and this year, I’ll get it.

  Ayla

  I SIT IN THE SECOND row, frowning at the way this Alex guy talks to people and acts as if he owns the whole school.

  I hate myself for not being able to take my eyes off of him: he's the most gorgeous guy I’ve ever seen, hands down.

  Well... Maybe not the most gorgeous, I admit when I catch Sam, the guy from the corridor, looking at me.

  And their friend, a funny guy, who’s always joking and laughing, is just as tall and broad at the other two, with soulful hazel eyes and
dark blonde hair and is also a legit hottie.

  Also hallway guy, what’s his name? I’m not sure I remember it but I think that Alex called him Egg Man... Or EM, something like that.

  He’s also gorgeous: tall, with light brown hair and amazing green eyes and he seems the kindest one out of the whole bunch.

  I sigh: guys like those, popular jocks, will never even look at me, so it’s not only far fetched, it’s borderline ridiculous that I find them all so attractive that I wouldn't know which one to choose if they all asked me out.

  The classes at BHPA are engaging and interesting and the morning goes quickly.

  I'm sitting between a pretty brunette girl, Jenna and a curvy one with caramel coloured hair and soft brown eyes that goes by the name of Charlotte.

  Alex is sitting right behind me and whenever I turn, I feel his gaze right on me.

  Or I think I do. Maybe my imagination is playing games with my sanity and I think it’s all because Alex is incredibly hot.

  When the bell rings, we all stand up to leave class: this is the period right before lunch and we have PE.

  Well, we do, as in us mere mortals because the football players don't have to take PE.

  I look at the map printed on the back of my schedule to make sure that I find the track and field area, as today is the first day and we’ll be exempt from actually doing any exercise.

  “Hey, new girl! What’s your name?”

  Jenna and Charlotte flank me and the first one wraps one arm around my shoulders.

  “Follow us, we’ll show you around.”

  I smile, relieved that someone is capable of being nice.

  I have to admit that since I arrived this morning, I haven't had the best feeling about this school: everyone seems very self absorbed and concentrating on looking better than the other students by showing off the most expensive cars and phones, since we do wear a uniform, so they can't one up each other by showing off their clothes.

  “So, since we’re going to be stuck in all the same classes all year, tell us more about yourself.”

  Charlotte asks offering me a small smile.

  I tell them that I’m seventeen, my next birthday, the big one eight, is in October and I just moved to LA from Chicago, Illinois.

 

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