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

by Melissa Adams

  I know he does.

  He doesn't say that he loves me.

  That's what I feel for him but I'm too scared to say it and be rejected.

  Damn!

  Alex really does have a point.

  So what Sam does to take care of our needs is to rub his hardness on my centre: slowly at first, with his dark blue eyes fixed onto mine and then harder and faster, until I scream my ecstasy holding him tight and he comes on my lower stomach shortly after with a soft groan.

  He holds me in his arms for a long time but neither of us says anything until he goes to the bathroom to bring me a soft, wet cloth and helps me clean up.

  He kisses me softly on the lips and he says:

  “Let’s get dressed sugar. I’ll take you home. We’ve got school tomorrow.”

  We don't talk much in the car and I’m relieved that when he walks me to my front door, he kisses me goodnight.

  I walk through my house: Mom and Ben aren't home.

  I know I should check on my brother but I can barely keep myself together.

  Hot tears start escaping my eyes and I don't even know why: Sam said that he cares about me but then why did he act as if he hated me?

  This is why I didn't wanna make love to him.

  There was something different in him, like a quiet rage, as if I’d disappointed him somehow and this was even before I said no to sex.

  I do the only thing I can think of: I call Alex for our goodnight call.

  Talking to him will make me feel better.

  15.

  Homecoming

  Tuna: thirty five points

  Alex: twenty five points (but really forty five)

  Sam: twenty five points (but really forty six)

  EM: zero points

  Alex

  “I LOVE YOU, BABY. HAVE sweet dreams. I’ll see you tomorrow at school. Are you sure that Tuna’s picking you up?”

  Ayla confirms that Tuna will drive her to school and I hang up the phone at the same time as Sam texts me:

  Sam: On my way to see you, we need to talk.

  Good.

  I was gonna wait until tomorrow to talk to him and Tuna about quitting the stupid bet but I can tell him tonight.

  I’m sure he'll be happy about it.

  Sam knocks on the pool house door and I let him in but rather than inviting him to sit down in the living room, I propose a walk to the dock.

  It’s almost November but tonight the air is warm and after the shit I’ve had to deal with in the last twenty four hours, I need some fresh air.

  We walk silently through the garden: the night sky is serene and full of stars.

  I can hear some crickets and some other nocturnal animals making noise but the loudest noise is the sea with its lazy waves crashing on the beach.

  “My Mom was at my front door last night.”

  I say as soon as we reach the wooden dock and sit at the end without shoes, like we've done countless times since we were six years old.

  That seems to shake Sam out from the daze he seems in.

  “No shit! Is she here to stay this time?”

  I shake my head.

  “She lasted a whole six hours sober. She found vodka and tried to persuade me to have Bloody Marys with breakfast. I asked her where she got the vodka and when I went to her room, to check if she had more booze, I found like a whole fucking pharmacy in her bag. I thought the whole point of rehab was to keep her sober but apparently once I poured her the second drink to make her talk, she admitted that some of the nurses do sell the patients drugs and booze. So I had to call my Father and get her immediately shipped to a different rehab. It took about four hours to have her picked up. So this was the ninth time I saw her since I was six.”

  “Wow, dude! I’m sorry. You should've called me and Tuna.”

  “Nah. Her shit used to get me really down... But to me we have the same Mom. Yours took me in and raised me. Mine is a total stranger at this point. The only thing that annoyed me was that I had to call my Father and after the conversation we’d had earlier in the evening—”

  I relay to Sam what happened with Ayla and when he doesn't say anything, I nudge his shoulder with mine and tell him that he was right.

  “I think we should quit the stupid bet! You were right, dude. She wasn't trying to reject me or Tuna and I’m sure Michelle has something to do with those weird texts. We’re lucky that she never found out about it. I was actually planning for her to find out at first, to hurt her like I thought she did me, but... After the way she defended me with my Father... And I’ve been calling her every night and I’ve got to know her, Sam. I’m in love with her. I’ve never felt like this again since Polly. I... Don't look at me that way, dude. I could have had sex with her but I want her to be sure and—”

  I tell him about my plan to get Ayla on birth control and then that it doesn't even matter if she decided to have sex with him or Tuna first.

  “I love her, Sam. And I love you guys. I told her that if it's up to me, she doesn't have to choose. That we can all date her and—”

  Sam sneers.

  “And what? Play fucking happy family? All go to Yale and rent a place together?”

  I nod and I'm about to say yes but he throws a piece of paper in my face and before I even have a chance to read it, he turns his phone on and I can hear Ayla's soft moaning.

  “I think we should continue with the bet and I can't wait to tell her that's all she was, after I fuck her! Here, twenty five fucking points!”

  Bitter tears start streaming down Sam’s face and I look at the piece of paper.

  “What the fuck is this?”

  Sam explains where he found it and confirms that it's Ayla's hand writing.

  I shake my head.

  “No! I don't believe it! There must be an explanation for this... I... She said that she loves me. And the way she talks about you and Tuna... No. There must be a reasonable explanation.”

  He keeps crying quietly and then says:

  “What do you wanna do, tell her?”

  “I think she deserves a chance to defend herself. And if she says that she hasn't written it, I’ll believe her.”

  Sam shakes his head.

  “Easy to say for you. You're clearly her favourite.”

  “Listen, let’s talk to Tuna tomorrow at school, before we do anything.”

  “Ok. But seriously, Alex. You're looking at this situation with rose tinted glasses: who else could've written that list?”

  I clap his shoulder with my hand:

  “Think. Who hates Ayla so much? And is jealous of you? Just make sure that you delete what you recorded tonight. If Ayla finds out, it won't matter about that list because it’ll be all over.”

  Tuna

  “YOU’LL BE THE DEATH of me...”

  I grumble giving Ayla one last kiss before helping her off my lap and back into her seat.

  She looks at me with huge, shiny eyes: she's different today.

  It's as if something was bothering her.

  I take a deep breath, trying to calm down: I drive her to school every morning and we stop somewhere quiet after breakfast, on her way to school, to kiss until the very last possible minute when we’ve got to go to school.

  I never let things get too heated in the car: kisses and some light groping is the most I’m willing to risk out in the open.

  I don't want to be caught in an uncomfortable situation.

  But this doesn't mean that I’m not rock hard and that I don't wanna rip that immaculate, pristine uniform off Ayla and...

  Our study sessions at my house have been different: I’ve been touching her and kissing her but...

  Again I haven't been pushing things any further even though there's the bet. Because I feel super guilty about what happened on Ayla’s birthday.

  So the result is that I’ve been accumulating a lot of frustration: she offered a few times to at least return the favour but I couldn't bring myself to do anything when I know what my part was in exp
osing that intimate moment between her and Alex.

  I know it sounds hypocritical to feel guilty about helping Michelle but still trying to win the bet.

  I won't lie, she hurt me when she said that she'd never have kissed me if Alex hadn't told her that he was all right with it. It's not like they were together, after all.

  But then, in the meantime, I got to know her and I opened up with her about my dyslexia and she didn't judge me, she didn't make me feel dumb.

  And if I have to judge by the way she's been kissing me, I know that she still feels attracted to me.

  So I haven't been pushing things because I feel guilty and because I’m not so sure anymore that the bet is something we should continue doing.

  I’m just too worried about telling Alex that I want out of the bet but I still want Ayla and I’m scared of the consequences if we stopped playing: what will Michelle do?

  All these thoughts definitely help putting a dampener on my hard on and both Ayla and I don't say much during the drive to school, each of us lost in our own thoughts.

  When I park the car, I rush to the passenger door to let Ayla out and give her one last, soft kiss before we enter the school building, where in theory PDAs are very frowned upon.

  As soon as we enter the school building, Char and Jenna crowd Ayla looking excited beside themselves.

  “Did you hear?”

  Char’s literally bouncing around Ayla.

  “No, I just got here, Char! What's up”

  “You’ve been nominated for Homecoming Queen!”

  Ayla blushes violently and almost drops her book bag.

  “What? Why?”

  Her question elicits matching eye rolls from Jenna and Char.

  “Duh! You're pretty and you're dating the fucking A-Team!”

  “But I don’t wanna be Homecoming Queen.”

  “That's not up to you, sweetie. You get nominated and then people vote. Plus one of your boyfriends will be the king for sure, so—”

  Ayla groans.

  “That's my only complaint with dating them.”

  Then she looks at me and squeezes my hand in hers:

  “Stop being so hot and popular, will you?”

  It's the first smile that genuinely blooms on my lips in a while.

  “Only if you stop being so hot.”

  I say kissing her temple and squeezing her body against my side, causing my hard on to threaten to reappear.

  “Ew! Get a room you two! Come on, everyone has to go to the auditorium for the Homecoming nominees announcement!”

  That's Michelle, strutting by followed by the Homecoming committee and looking positively in charge with a headset and a clipboard clutched against her chest.

  “Do we have to?”

  Ayla whines, smashing herself even more against my side.

  “Come on, sweetie, let's go find Alex and Sam.”

  We enter the packed auditorium and I spot Alex’s blonde head straight away: we’re all over six foot two anyway, so really easy to spot amongst our peers.

  When we reach them, Alex takes Ayla in his arms, kisses her lightly and chastely on the lips, knowing that even he can't get away with too much kissing in public within school premises, and then greets me.

  Sam offers us a tight smile and doesn't even go close to Ayla.

  What's his deal?

  Until Friday night he was all puppy love and why Alex and I don't quit the bet and now he looks angry and withdrawn.

  But I have no time to deal with Sam because I feel my phone vibrate in my pocket.

  I check it and clench my jaw so tight that I’m surprised that my teeth don't all shatter.

  Michelle: Meet me outside the auditorium in two minutes. Don't even think about bringing your girlfriend or one of your friends.

  I mutter something about getting a bottle of water for Ayla and step outside the room.

  Michelle grabs my forearm with her manicured claws and drags me into an empty classroom nearby.

  “How’s the bet going? I think Sam’s winning.”

  She hands me a piece of paper.

  “This is tomorrow’s mock test for Ms. Webber's class and the second page is Friday’s test.”

  “Michelle, I—”

  “What? Is Ayla such a good tutor that you can pass Ms. Webber's class without my help? In exchange for my help, I need you to go to the door behind the auditorium. It takes you backstage. Find Miles, the nerdy guy with glasses and hand him this.”

  She gives me a flash drive labelled Ayla Jennings.

  “What is it?”

  She shrugs but her smirk tells me that the nonchalant attitude is just for show.

  “When we announce each candidate for the Homecoming court, we play a short video of everyone, to remind people who’s who. I shot my own, being the president of the committee and all and for all the others, we used snippets of their entrance interview at BHPA. I think that Ayla deserves her own special introduction.”

  “Michelle, What the fuck’s on this flash drive?”

  I growl.

  Her smile widens:

  “Let’s say that that day at the beach, for Ayla's birthday, I might have caught that beautiful moment on video.”

  I clench my fists.

  “No, I won't do it.”

  “Tuna, What you don’t understand, babe, is that it’ll happen anyway. If you don't do it, I’ve got another ten people who I’ve got dirt on, or wanna fuck me or are too scared of me to say no. The only thing you’ll get if you don't help me, is that I’ll tell Ayla about the bet. And Ms. Webber about your cheating. So, are you going to do it then? Hurry though, time’s ticking.”

  She says with a sickening sing song tone.

  “Why are you such a fucking bitch?”

  She shrugs.

  “You and your friends of all people should understand. If you don't rule by fear, people tend to forget who they answer to. So now, hurry up. I don’t like to talk to that little Twunt you all like so much anyway. Go!”

  I take the flash drive, shaking with rage and do as I’m told.

  I feel sick to my stomach and I almost bail and skip school.

  However, I might be a complete idiot but I'm not a coward: Ayla will be devastated and I’ll have to be there for her.

  I walk towards the auditorium with a new resolve forming in my mind: after football practice, I’ll tell Alex and Sam.

  I know they won't tell on me about the tests and we need to figure out how Michelle is getting the recordings of our private time with Ayla.

  That bitch will be sorry about messing with the A-Team.

  Sam

  WHEN I SEE MY EX ON the stage, talking about Homecoming and I see the smile on her face, I know immediately that something’s up.

  She's got that smile that she puts on when she's about to do or say something nasty.

  Whatever!

  She ain't my problem anymore: I used to be really embarrassed by her cattiness and how mean she was to people.

  But she seemed to be always so nice to me.

  But then again, she was screwing half the football team behind my back, so really not that nice.

  The videos of the nominees start to be shown on the huge movie theatre size screen behind the podium.

  I’m barely paying attention because in all honesty, the last twenty four hours have been a daze: I feel as if I were watching myself doing shit rather than actually doing shit.

  I really hope that Alex is right and there's an explanation to that pro and cons list I found in Ayla's book.

  I was up all night trying to figure out a way that Ayla hasn't written that stuff about me but...

  And that bet... The way I acted last night with her...

  I wanted to hurt her so much that I almost told her that I was only with her because of that bet.

  I know it’s a lie but I wanted to make her bleed like she made me bleed.

  Michelle manages to look slutty even in the forty five second video she shot for her Homecoming
court presentation: it's almost funny like I never noticed that about her when we were dating.

  And then I hear her announce:

  “The next nominee for Homecoming Queen is a new student here at BHPA: Ayla Jennings!”

  And then it's worse than a fucking nightmare: at first I don't even realise that what I’m seeing is Tuna’s swimming trunks and his hand opening the changing hut’s door.

  When I see Ayla's red hair near Alex’s naked form, I want to react but it's too late.

  The camera changes angle and Ayla's profile is visible while she slides Alex's cock as deep as she can down her throat and when she comes back up he moans:

  “Right there, baby! Don't stop... I’m so fucking close...”

  This is when the two realise that the door is open, Alex pulls out and...

  I hear people gasping around me and the light in the room comes on right when on the screen Alex is making a real mess on Ayla's face and chest.

  And his voice is the first I hear when he roars:

  “Someone stop that fucking video, right the fuck now!”

  I look at her and she's frozen in place, pale as a ghost, her eyes rapidly filling with tears.

  Part of me wants to take her away, like I did on her birthday, another part of me, the hurt one, is slow to react.

  “Jenna, Char, take Ayla home. I’ll be there soon. I’m going to the principal’s office.”

  Alex has a murderous look in his eyes: I’ve never seen him so protective of anyone since... Polly.

  Ayla is dragged out of the auditorium by her girlfriends like a zombie.

  She has her eyes trained on the floor and her shoulders slump in defeat.

  I look at the podium where Michelle is looking at the whole commotion with a little innocent expression on her face that can probably fool everyone else but not me.

  Maybe if she's behind this, the list could be somehow one of her schemes too?

  I tell Alex that we should go to speak to the principal but Tuna stops us:

  “Guys, I need to talk to you, it’s urgent. Not here. I need to go home and you need to come with me.”