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

by Melissa Adams

  She’s so hot that I can't believe that she hasn't been dating but... Now that innocent vibe she gives out makes sense: it isn't an act, she isn't being coy.

  And this is why she was reacting the way she was to my attentions.

  I wonder if she's ever even been kissed and the only thought that I might be the first or that if not on kissing her, I might have a lot of her firsts, makes me do something I’ve only ever done with Sam and Tuna.

  I apologise.

  I let her chin go and my other hand relaxes the grip on her wrist, lifting it to my face: my fingers left a red mark on her delicate skin.

  “I’m sorry too. I seriously don't want to make you uncomfortable, Ayla. I guess I’m just used to people wanting the status that comes with going out with me and I take it for granted that girls...”

  “I don't care about status, Alex. I want to go to school here because it's a great school and I want to go to Yale and graduating here would help me get accepted. So I don't understand why girls would go out with you just to be popular.”

  What the fuck?

  Is she trying to insult me on purpose?

  I open my mouth to scold her but she says really fast:

  “I don't understand why they're attracted to your status when they could be attracted to you. When you don't try to be an ass, you are smart and... You smell good and you look...”

  This girl will be the death of me, I swear.

  She has no problem going head to head with me, she stands up to and she isn't afraid of me.

  But the minute she's saying that she likes me, she blushes and averts her gaze from mine.

  I still have my fingers wrapped around her wrist and I bring it to my lips, kissing the red mark I just left there.

  My eyes are locked on hers and when my lips touch her skin, she gasps softly and I see the tip of her tongue wet her lips.

  I place her hand on my shoulder and move her long, red hair away from her face, looking at her lips, anticipating the way they will taste.

  My fingers brush against the bow of her silk scarf and when the fabric moves a little, I spot a dark red, almost purple mark at the base of her neck.

  “What—”

  “You did that, Alex. In the car, remember? When I was sitting on your lap?”

  Yes, I remember that. And my lips touch that mark again, softly this time, I don't give in to the urge to graze her with my teeth.

  She tilts her head back and I push myself closer to her, our fronts now touching.

  She has a fresh, clean smell, with a hint of something floral and she's warm and soft and that makes me hard.

  “Alex...”

  Yeah, right.

  Am I making her uncomfortable?

  I step away, only one step, so our bodies are no longer touching but my hand is still resting on the narrow of her waist.

  “Yes, you are right. I’m doing it again, aren't I? I’m being too pushy.”

  She smiles.

  “A little bit maybe. But mostly, someone is trying to open the classroom door.”

  I look at her lips: I really want to kiss her.

  But then, I hear the door knob being shaken and the glass panel of the door rattling a little.

  “Fuck them! They can wait, I’m not done here...”

  “Alex...”

  There's a hint of disapproval in her tone but she's smiling a little.

  “Ok, you are right. But... I’m having a party on Friday night at my house. Will you come? As my date?”

  She smiles.

  “Yes. Thank you for inviting me.”

  Ayla

  HE WAS ABOUT TO KISS me.

  And I wanted it so much that I was a little scared.

  Alex is so perfect on the outside: a perfect body if I have to judge by how hard and toned his muscles felt against me and his face...

  Those dark blue eyes, his golden blonde hair, the high cheekbones and the soft, full lips that feel hot and dangerous against my skin...

  I didn't expect his apology.

  Really, I was rude, leaving without telling him.

  And Jenna and Char had told me that he would not only be mad, he would exact revenge by possibly banning me from all social events, like he did with the people who crossed him.

  But he didn't, he actually understood why I was uncomfortable with his advances.

  And now I’m going out with him again. This time, I’ve agreed to it, so it feels different than last week when he told me that we were going to the movies.

  Why do I feel so uneasy then?

  I know I wanted him to kiss me just a moment ago and he defended me last Friday when Michelle verbally attacked me.

  I sigh as the door opens and the reason I left that date on Friday and that is causing my discomfort now walks through the door and has the nerve to smile at me and wink.

  Sam walks in followed by EM and Michelle.

  He’s the reason why I feel uneasy and a little guilty towards Alex: yes, Alex behaved like a total arrogant caveman on Friday but I let Sam kiss me and maybe, just maybe, I should have mentioned it to Alex?

  Then I shake my head: I don't owe Alex anything.

  We’re going on a date but it's not like we are together...

  And I know that kiss didn't mean anything to Sam: he was using me to make his ex jealous.

  And talking about his ex, I snap out of my musings, when I hear Alex confront my nemesis.

  “I’ve always known that you are mean and you're stupid but I didn't know you also needed glasses. This is room twenty five. It's the A-Class room.”

  Michelle addresses Alex with a sweet smile, a smile that looks as fake as her mellifluous tone of voice sounds.

  “I’m in the right class. I appealed my entrance tests results and I made A-Class in the makeup test. The first time around I was jet lagged, I had just come back from pre-school shopping in Paris with my Mom.”

  Alex looks at her with hardness in his dark blue eyes:

  “Right. Just make sure that you know your place. This is the only warning you get, Michelle. I never liked you but I put up with you for Sam’s sake. Go sit in the first row and I better not hear your voice unless a teacher is asking you to speak. EM? You are on Michelle duty! If she screws up or annoys me, you will be considered responsible for it, got it?”

  I mean... I’m a little turned on.

  Alex is bossy, he’s a bully and he thinks that he rules the world by birthright, which totally rubs me the wrong way but when he uses his powers for good and not for evil, his attractiveness increases tenfold.

  And he’s already hot...

  But Alex's hotness isn't the only thing that attracts my attention.

  Michelle looks at me from time to time and then at her ex-boyfriend.

  Sam seems oblivious to all of it and doesn't stop her from following him out of the classroom when lunch begins.

  I go sit at my usual table with Jenna and Char and can’t help but notice that neither Sam nor Michelle show up in the cafeteria.

  Maybe the morning one isn't the only blowjob Sam gets from his ex?

  I groan: why am I torturing myself this way?

  I know why Sam kissed me and it's not like I could go out with Sam anyway, right?

  It's just...

  I like him. For some reason, I feel really drawn to Sam...

  Perhaps he reminds me of Sean, with his quiet, slightly broody demeanour.

  And like Sean, his kiss was unexpected and cut deep when it didn't turn out to be what it seemed to begin with.

  I tell myself that I need to stay away from Sam which will also hopefully keep me out of Michelle’s radar.

  “You are awfully quiet today, Ayla...”

  Jenna is looking at me with her head slightly tilted.

  “Are you still thinking about that ki—”

  I widen my eyes and shake my head to deter her from mentioning that kiss out loud in the cafeteria.

  Alex is getting his food and is not within earshot but I think it's be
st if we all forget about it.

  I scoot closer to her and Char and tell them that I want to stay away from Michelle and not to mention that kiss ever again.

  “Ok, we won't. But you seemed so bothered by it...”

  “It’s fine. I’m over it.”

  I explain what happened with Alex before first period and Char takes my hand and sounds wise beyond her years when she gives me advice:

  “If it didn't mean anything, I think you should tell Alex. It's better if he hears it from you and Sam rather than through the gossip grapevine.”

  I know she's right but somehow I just want to bury my head under the sand and never mention that kiss again.

  “It’s not like Alex and I are a thing...”

  I object but Char remains adamant.

  “You are a big girl, Ayla, so I’m not telling you what to do... Just know that I’ve been going to school with Alex since the third grade and he normally doesn't do girlfriends or relationships. You? Going out with him twice in a row and you haven't even kissed him? That’s the closest thing I’ve ever seen to a relationship.”

  “But I—”

  I’m not scared of talking to Alex, I’m worried about Sam laughing about a kiss that meant nothing to him and I don't want to look like a fool in front of him.

  My words get cut off by a strong arm wrapped around my shoulders when Alex plops himself in the empty chair next to mine.

  This isn't his table, so everyone starts staring.

  He passes me a bottle of water.

  “I saw you have almost finished yours, new girl. It’s hot today, so I don't want you to get dehydrated.”

  And he winks after he deposits a light kiss on my temple.

  Again, you could hear a pin drop in the cafeteria and Jenna, Char and Josh are looking at Alex as if he had just sprouted two heads.

  Friday morning

  SO, I HAVEN'T MANAGED to tell Alex about that kiss between me and Sam yet.

  The more I think about it, the more I am convinced that Sam only did it to make Michelle jealous because he hasn't really been in the cafeteria at lunch time and the two of them have been arriving to class first thing in the morning at the same time.

  I think they might be back together, judging from the satisfied smirk Michelle wears constantly on her face.

  However, she hasn't been interacting with me at all. Probably because EM has been deflecting any kind of possibility of us having to even talk to one another.

  Whenever EM wasn't physically able to block Michelle, Alex was in the vicinity by either being near me or at least within earshot, always glaring at Michelle, every time she even moved to less than three feet away from me.

  Our last period on Friday is Latin Literature: it's an AP class, like all of our classes and this year the school has hired a new teacher.

  All we know is that Ms. Webber used to teach at Columbia University and that she is known as one of the most celebrated Latin scholars in the country.

  The woman that enters our classroom is in her very early fifties and has intelligent blue eyes and shoulder length silver hair.

  She wears a classy pencil skirt and a light pink silky blouse and carries a huge leather portfolio which she deposits on her desk.

  “Salve!”

  (Translation: hello in Latin)

  She must notice the terrified looks on almost everyone’s faces because she smiles.

  “Am I in the right classroom? Aren't you the AP class course? The best and brightest of BHPA?”

  No one speaks up and she announces that by the end of the year, the only language allowed in this class will be Latin.

  After a brief introduction speech, she goes through the syllabus and explains how the class will run.

  “Every last Friday of the month, we’ll have a written test: I’ll give you a random passage that you will translate from Latin into English.

  There will be a complete ban of all electronic devices in this class from next Tuesday: this will include your tablets, laptops, cells and smart watches. I’ll have a basket on my desk where you’ll drop all your devices until the end of class. During the tests, the only things allowed on your desks will be a pen, a blank sheet of paper, the text I want you to translate and a Latin-English dictionary. I’ll provide all the dictionaries and writing materials, so the only thing you’ll need to bring into my class is your brains.

  Every last Tuesday of the month, we’ll do a mock test to prepare you for the Friday test. Every test will account for an equal portion of your final grade. There won't be any extra credits or make up tests. If at any time you should feel that you aren't keeping up, or if I tell you that you aren't, I’ll help you out to find a tutor to improve your grade. You’ll need a C+ average in my class to graduate. Any questions?”

  We are all stunned into silence: this class will be really hard.

  “One last thing for those of you who participate in any varsity sports, cheer squad, students council and so on... You need to maintain a C average in this class or the Principal will have you excluded from the above activities until your grades reach the required level. But now, let's get to know each other. Tell me your names, age, favourite author and most prized possession. I’ll begin. My name is Mary Webber, I’m fifty one and my favourite author is Clive Cussler. My most prized possession is a book signed by Clive.”

  The class goes fast and when Ms. Webber leaves, we all start collecting our stuff.

  I feel Alex's gaze on me before he speaks:

  “I’ll pick you up at seven. Wear a bikini or bring one with you, it's still warm enough to go in the pool.”

  “I... Since the party is at your house, wouldn't it be easier if I came with Jenna and—”

  “It will be my pleasure to pick you up.”

  Ok, he’s trying to be nice and his smile is a lot softer than his usual smirk.

  So I guess he's really trying to make it up to me for his behaviour last week.

  My Mom is working all night tonight: a seven pm to seven am shift, Ben has been invited to hang out with our next door neighbour, so I guess there's no harm in letting Alex pick me up.

  I smile back at him and he rewards me with one of his knee weakening winks.

  5.

  Party Hard

  Ayla

  ALEX TURNS UP AT MY house at seven on the dot.

  It feels weird to call it my house: this huge eight bedroom mansion in Beverly Hills is nothing like the little cosy three bedrooms condo we used to have in Chicago.

  Not only do we have nowhere near enough furniture to fill the house but between my intense schoolwork, my Mom’s shifts and Ben’s homeschooling schedule and the fact that now he has an actual job, we have only unpacked the essentials and we have one of the guest bedrooms still full of boxes.

  I guess the move might feel more real once we’re all unpacked but for now, we are all caught into a grind with work, studying and an attempt to build a social life in a brand new place.

  Mom’s shifts have always been such that Ben and I have learned to feed ourselves and often her, be responsible with homework and helping with chores from a very early age.

  It's always been us three and we don't begrudge having to help: Mom is strict but she's a loving parent and if we need her, she’ll drop anything to be there for us.

  So in a way, I feel bad that I’m sneaking around without telling her where I’m going but...

  How do you tell your Mother that you are going to a party with a guy who you barely know, who you have the hots for despite not being sure that you like him as a person?

  Oh, and also his bestie is going to be at that party: the guy you can't stop thinking about after he kissed you to make his ex jealous and he hasn't even apologised about using you.

  To top it all off, your date has been on best behaviour all week, if brushing against me every time he walked past me and touching my hair or my neck every time he spoke to me, undressing me with his eyes can be considered good.

  Yeah, Mom would de
finitely not allow me to go to that party.

  And Alex is full of surprises: knowing what I know about him, I would have expected a honk from his car to announce his arrival or at best a text message to tell me to hurry.

  Instead he rings the doorbell and stands on my front porch looking like the proverbial million bucks.

  Or in his case at least a billion.

  His hair falls perfectly on his forehead, catching the sun and surrounding his flawless face like a golden halo.

  The colour of his shirt makes his eyes pop like two mini oceans: dark blue and deep.

  And...

  Is it possible to have blue jeans tailor made?

  No, because I’ve never seen a pair of jeans that hugged someone’s figure as perfectly: they aren't skinny jeans so they are not ridiculously clingy but at the same time they aren't too loose.

  They hug his strong, long legs, his narrow hips and I suspect his perfect butt as if they had been designed with his body in mind.

  I exit my house, shutting the door straight away behind my back: I don't want him to see the empty entrance area.

  “Shit!”

  He curses as soon as he sees me.

  “What?”

  “I should send you back inside to change.”

  “Oh... Sorry, am I underdressed?”

  I’m wearing a white summer dress with lace trimmings all around its sweetheart neckline and at the hem that hits two inches above my knee and dusty pink ballet flats.

  I have my bikini in my handbag: I’m a little self conscious about my body, I was teased at my previous school because my boobs are too big for my small body frame and they standout too much, so if I can avoid the experience, I gladly will.

  Alex's eyes skim all over my body but come back to settle on my eyes and a little smile forms on his face when he says:

  “No. You aren't underdressed.”

  “Why did you curse then?”

  The smile widens just a little and his eyes have an amused glint in them.

  “I cursed because you look so fucking hot and I promised not to make you uncomfortable. So this is the deal, Ayla: you’ve put me in a hard predicament here. Let's do this: I’ll fight the urge to lift your dress and look at those beautiful hips of yours and to do a number of other things that you might totally find unreasonable on our second date, or first date, if we don't count last week’s debacle. I’ll fight that urge and I’ll wait to get a good look when you wear your bikini. But you... You’ll work on the idea that before the end of tonight, I’ll kiss you. And I’m telling you now, so you’ll know what I’ll be thinking about all evening and you won't be uncomfortable with it. Do we have a deal?”