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

by Melissa Adams

  WHEN I GET HOME, I find Sam, Tuna and EM waiting for me in the den.

  “Let’s take a walk to the dock. Let’s sit outside and talk this mess out.”

  We walk in silence: the only noises in this end of summer night are the crickets and the ocean, clamouring with choppy waves against the beach and the shore.

  I feel very much in tune with it right now: my emotions are as tumultuous as the sea.

  I sit at the end of the dock and I order my friends to do the same.

  “Are we all getting concrete boots?”

  EM jokes and I’m about to tell him to get the hell out of my house, when it hits me: he must have something to do with this shit that went down tonight.

  I’m positive that Michelle must have put him up to it and I wonder what he's getting out of helping that bitch but then I think better of it.

  He won't admit to it obviously and neither will she but I might have a way to find out and to punish EM for his lack of loyalty and Ayla for hurting me and remind my brothers that I would give my life for them but I won't be taken for a fool.

  “Alex—”

  Sam begins to talk but I cut him off.

  “No, let me. I’m tired and it's been an intense night. Let's summarise things, shall we? You both like Ayla.”

  “Yes.”

  The confirmation comes from Tuna.

  “And why didn't you two say anything before tonight?”

  They start talking some nonsense about dibs and bro code and shit.

  “Well, if you were abiding by bro code, you should have totally told me before kissing her.”

  “Yeah, but the text messages—”

  I cut Tuna short again.

  “Yeah, I believe you and I believe Ayla.”

  “I bet my ex has something to do with it!”

  “I agree, Sam. But I think Michelle is too dumb to pull this kind of shit on her own. She must have found some help.”

  “Maybe one of her many hookups...”

  EM’s suggestion sounds shady as fuck and it makes him sound guilty. At the very least, he must know something he isn't telling me.

  But I have a way to either get the truth or make him pay.

  “Guys, she obviously likes us all. Especially if the make-out session we had against my car is something to go by... Are you guys intending to pursue her?”

  Sam replies that he would like to, unless that means losing my friendship.

  Tuna looks more hesitant.

  “I really like her, dude. But... I don't know... She hurt me. The way she said that she only kissed me because she thought that you were ok with it... I—”

  I pounce on that before he can rationalise that feeling:

  “Yeah, I get it. But if you still like her, like I do, maybe we could temporarily share and just compete for our beautiful damsel?”

  “How?”

  Sam sounds cautious and he’s right to be.

  “I think that we could help Ayla decide which one of us she wants and to help her out, we can all date her until she makes a decision. And to keep things fair and interesting, we could have a friendly competition...”

  “What kind of competition?”

  Now Tuna sounds cautious too.

  “I don't know how much you have talked to our girl, in between shoving your tongues down her throat but Ayla is as innocent as she looks. Sam, did you know that you were her second kiss... Like, ever? Then you, Tuna and finally, yours truly.”

  They don't say anything and I explain my plan further:

  “Let’s have a bet. She's a virgin and I think whoever gets her v-card should get the girl. To keep it fair, we’ll keep score. I’ll prepare a score card with items worth points. For example: a hand job will be worth three points, a blowjob five. Second base two points. If you go down on her five, if you finger her three. If you dry hump her four but you can add one point per item of clothing removed and if you both come, five extra points. The first person to achieve each task, gets ten bonus points and whoever gets her v-card, is the winner. We have until the end of this semester to achieve it and each milestone has to be documented. Filmed or recorded. To make things more interesting, let's also have a material prize for the winner. If I lose, the winner can have my Ducati.”

  “But, dude—”

  “Are you in?”

  “Alex, I don't think—”

  “What, Sam? Are you too scared to lose? If you don't play, we aren't brothers anymore, I warn you. Nothing has ever come between us and if you let this girl be it, it means that you don't care about us... Plus, we all want her and this way it will be fair: if she sleeps with you first, it's game over.”

  “I’m in.”

  Tuna nods.

  “And if I lose you can have my house in Barbados.”

  Sam sighs.

  “Ok. If I lose, you can have my Cessna”

  “Cool. And if EM wins... He can be initiated into the A-Team.”

  “What the fuck? Why?”

  My two friends are horrified.

  “Because to be one of us, you need to share everything we do. So, EM, are you in? You’ve always wanted to be in the A-Team, right?”

  He swallows, suddenly pale.

  “And if I lose?”

  “If you lose, you’ll quit the A-Team, withdraw from the A-Class and never dare talk to me or my friends again. This is the thing with the A-Team: you are all in or you're out.”

  EM has a resolute expression on his face and he nods.

  “I’m in.”

  “Ok then, gentlemen... I will draw up score cards and some simple ground rules tomorrow. In the meantime, obviously the main rule: if you tell her about this bet, you’re out!”

  7.

  Rules Of Engagement

  Sam

  THE DAY AFTER, I'VE just come out of the shower: I’m only wearing a towel wrapped around my hips and my Father's dog tags that I never take off.

  I choose a simple pair of dark blue jeans and a charcoal grey shirt to wear for my date with Ayla.

  I decided to take her to a little fun fair that just set up near my house: it has a few cool rides and all the fried food one could ever want but especially a Ferris wheel with a beautiful view of the water.

  I’ve just finished getting dressed, when my phone starts beeping with someone inviting me into a Skype conference call.

  I answer with a sigh: of course it's Alex and he’s also called Tuna and EM.

  Alex: Hey dude! Good to catch you before you go out with Ayla. So, I spoke to her this morning and I told her that we talked and we decided that it's up to her to make a choice among us and that until then, we’re fine to share.

  EM: Did you say anything about me? Because seriously, this bet isn't fair: you’ve all kissed her and you know she likes you all. I haven't even really spoken to her.

  Alex: If you want to be in the A-Team, you need to face any challenge head on. No fear and never lose sight of the goal. And since you want in on our brotherhood, you need to prove yourself and it's only fair that your challenge might look a little harder than it is for us. Unless you want to drop out?

  EM: No.

  Alex: Good. The A-Team isn't for pussies and unless you prove that you ain't one—

  Sam: Listen, bro... I’m ok with letting her choose and sharing until then but...This bet... Ayla doesn't deserve it. If she wanted to sleep with one of us it would be—

  Alex’s expression hardens and I can see it even on the screen: his eyes get as cold as icebergs.

  Alex: Oh, but that's easy for you, Sam. She hasn't treated you the way she did me and Tuna. It seems like you are in the lead anyway, right? Plus, if we play our cards well, she doesn't need to know about it.

  Sam: I just don't think—

  Tuna: Alex is right. She doesn't need to know. Unless she ends up being only into being popular. Then she deserves to suffer. But as long as she's really just into all of us and wants to get to know us all better—

  Alex: Right. The reason I did call, is to d
iscuss some ground rules.

  The first rule to participate in this bet is: you do not talk about this bet. The second rule to participate in this bet is: you do not talk about this bet.

  Tuna: Hahaha. What are we, Fight Club?

  Alex: Something like that. Now seriously, the other rules are: if she says no to something, you can try to push her or insist once but if she says no a second time, you stop. We aren't rapists, so unless you have clear consent from Ayla, you don't act on your urges.

  And obviously the same goes if she’s too drunk or high. So no roofies and no getting her wasted and taking advantage of her. Also, no team tagging her: to be valid towards your score, everything has to happen on a one on one basis. If she ever does anything with more than one of us involved, that doesn't count.

  The bet is over at the end of the semester: the winner is the first among us who has intercourse with her or the one with the highest score. So EM, if you win, you’ll have a whole semester as a member of the A-Team. Forfeiting the bet, means being automatically out of the A-Team. Is everything clear?

  I’m not happy with this, not one bit.

  And I refuse to play.

  But I can't tell Alex: I need to pretend that I'm in and see if I can convince him and Tuna to call this foolish thing off.

  The only thing that buys me some time is that we need to keep this bet a secret.

  But if Ayla found out about this, she’d be devastated.

  I can only imagine the look she would have in her eyes, if I thought it was bad when she was convinced that I’d kissed her only to make Michelle jealous, I know that this would hurt a hundred times more.

  The only reason why I don't tell Alex to go fuck himself and refuse to play his stupid game is that he's been there for me when I needed him. He and Tuna are much more than friends to me, so I need to play along until I can show them the error of their ways.

  I pull up in front of Ayla's house in my SUV and climb the steps to her front porch two at a time: I’m excited about spending the evening with her and for today, I don't want to think about the stupid bet.

  Her house is small for a Beverly Hills mansion but I know that Ayla's family isn't rich and the only reason why they moved here is that her little brother sold that app and got himself a job as a software engineer.

  Her Mom’s a cop, so I’m sure that she must have grown up with way less than this.

  “Then maybe, all this wealth is messing with her head and this is why she's into you and your friends?”

  The little voice in my head sounds suspiciously like Michelle’s but I consider this thought, while I wait for someone to come and get the door.

  Ayla doesn't seem that type of girl: actually for some reason, the girls who seem to care most about the net worth of their dates are the ones with the biggest trust funds.

  But I’ve got no time to dwell on this for now, because the door opens and I find myself staring into a pair of green eyes that look a lot like Ayla's but belong to a tall, skinny guy in jean shorts and a faded red t-shirt.

  “Can I help you?”

  This must be Ben, Ayla's little brother.

  “Hi, I’m Sam. I’m here to see your sister.”

  At the mention of Ayla, he takes a step back and invites me in.

  He lets me into their living room while he walks to the bottom of the stairs and shouts at the top of his lungs:

  “Ayla! There's a dude here to see you?”

  Then he turns towards me and asks if I don't mind waiting for her.

  “I was about to go out myself.”

  “Sure.”

  I nod and he disappears into another room.

  I have time to look around and I’m surprised to see that the furniture is very sparse.

  I walk around the living room and look at all the photos that are hanging on the wall or framed and sitting on the mantelpiece of the huge fireplace that is the focal point of the room.

  A lot of them portray Ayla and Ben.

  I’m looking at an adorable one of Ayla at about six or seven years old, judging by the toothless smile she’s giving the camera and her brother is a little more than a toddler, hugging his big sister's scabbed knees.

  Ben steps back into the room wearing a baseball cap on his shaggy brown hair and black sunglasses.

  He’s also carrying a black skateboard.

  “Huh... Hasn't she come down yet?”

  I shake my head and he steps to the bottom of the stairs again, this time shouting louder than before.

  “Ayla! You have a visitor!”

  Then he huffs, frustrated.

  “Sorry, dude! Let me text her. This house is so big, I’m not used to it. Back in Chicago, we used to have whole conversations from different rooms.”

  He taps on his phone and two minutes later, Ayla comes running down the stairs, pretty in a teal silky blouse and a floaty black skirt that shows off her slim but toned legs.

  Her auburn hair is shiny and looks so soft that I want to run my hands through it.

  “Hi...”

  She smiles and I seriously don't know how she does it but every time she looks at me, I feel that smile reach into places that I thought I’d closed off forever.

  Especially after the way things ended with my ex girlfriend.

  Ayla introduces me to her brother as ‘her friend Sam’ and after a few common pleasantries, we all leave the house together.

  I ask Ben if he wants to be dropped off somewhere but he declines politely, sets his skateboard down on the pavement and rolls off with a shy smile.

  “Hey, Ayla! If Mom texts asking, I’m at the skate park with Jason Hamilton.”

  Once Ben is out of sight, I help Ayla into my car and we drive off in a comfortable silence.

  “Hey Sam?”

  “Yes, cutie?”

  “Was my brother nice to you?”

  “Yeah. Why?”

  She shrugs.

  “No reason. Ben is a bit of an introvert and sometimes he can come off standoffish to people he meets for the first time. Mom and I have been working on it with him and it's especially important now that we just moved to a place where we don't really know anyone...”

  I nod, understanding Ben’s predicament as I wasn't born in California but I moved here when I was six.

  “We almost didn't move because Mom was opposed to homeschooling. She feared that Ben would lack even more interaction with people our age. But they made a deal: that he could take this job that he wanted so much, as long as his grades didn't suffer and he promised to make friends.”

  “You need to give him time. It isn't easy to start over.”

  She looks at me and I pretend to concentrate on driving and don't look at her: I don't know what it is with this girl that makes me want to open up.

  Especially when my ex ended up exploiting every single secret I ever shared with her, showing me that so far, the only people I can fully trust are Alex and Tuna.

  We arrive at the fair and after parking, we make our way around the crowded pier where it's set up.

  It's crowded and I don't want to get separated from Ayla, so I take her hand in mine and we start looking at all the fun activities on offer.

  It's crazy how excited and nervous I feel around Ayla: I never felt this way before with Michelle.

  Or with any of the other girls I hooked up with on the rebound, after I broke up with her.

  I want Ayla to like me, to see past the cool, popular football player whose Mom is married to a famous Hollywood director...

  I want her to know the real me, to understand my silences, to see what's behind the self assured and slightly d-bag façade I show the rest of the world.

  We play a couple of shooting games where I win a few little stuffed animals for her, then we walk around the stands that sell custom jewellery, tapestries and the ever present fair food.

  We eat turkey legs and corn dogs and at the end, we decide to share a funnel cake.

  We eat the cake while we walk and Ayla moans when
she puts the fried dough in her mouth.

  “Hmm, I love funnel cake!”

  I wait until she's finished chewing it and try to stifle a laugh but she notices and asks me, narrowing those big green eyes of hers:

  “What? Have I got something on my face?”

  I chuckle.

  “Actually yes! You got powdered sugar all over your face, come here...”

  We stop walking and I draw her face nearer, holding her chin between two fingers.

  I begin trying to dust the powdered sugar off with my fingers but then I can't resist her pink, luscious lips and use my mouth to clean hers.

  I take her bottom lip between my lips and lick and suck on it, then repeat with her top lip.

  She lets me do it, looking in my eyes until I part her lips with my tongue and kiss her deeply, tasting the sweetness of the cake, flicking at her tongue with mine, playing with her a bit.

  I know that we're surrounded by people, so I break the kiss too soon. I take her hand again and we walk around the stands and towards the Ferris wheel in the rapidly declining daylight.

  I wish we were alone but at the same time, I feel better knowing that we're surrounded by people: both because I know that she isn't as experienced as the girls I’ve been dating and hanging out with...

  But mostly because of that wretched bet: I want to enjoy being with her tonight, without feeling guilty about the bet.

  Because I don't care about winning the stupid bet but unless I convince Alex to call it off, I’ll have to at least look like I’m playing and to do that, I’ll have to betray Ayla’s trust, even if I want to protect her.

  The only thing I can never do, is to betray my brothers.

  We’re almost at the end of the pier and I ask her if she wants to go on the Ferris wheel, when someone else's voice beckons us:

  “What a gorgeous couple! Would you like to know the future?”

  It's an old lady, dressed in a long purple skirt, a black blouse decorated by moons and stars, a gold head scarf tied around her long, white hair and huge hoop earrings and lots of bangles on her bony wrists.

  “Uhm, no. I...”

  Ayla doesn't look interested and that makes me like her more: Michelle would've dragged me into her pavilion, no matter how much I protested.