Licking my lips, I flash a timid smile. “Thank you.” Though I’ve done nothing, in reality, it’s been the boys, not me. I really don’t know how I should be reacting to him like this. I was anticipating him putting me through the ringer and having to hide bruises from my peers at school. There’s no way I can let him find out that Tristan’s brothers have kissed and flirted with me too.
“In fact, I have something just for this,” he sniggers and digs through one of the bottom desk drawers. He pulls out a black velvet box. “I had this saved, but you deserve to have it.” Popping the top open a sparkly platinum diamond tennis bracelet shines back at me.
“It’s beautiful,” I whisper with my throat still dry and croaky.
He beams in return. “Wear it tomorrow. It’ll make that boy jealous wondering who bought it for you, and I’ll bet he’ll be sending a bigger one over to take its place on your wrist.”
I hold my hand out and watch anxiously as he clasps the sparkling bracelet on my wrist. I don’t want to make anyone jealous, especially not Tristan, but my father obviously thinks it’s a good idea. He may enjoy playing games, but I don’t. I’m already dealing with enough at school as it is without adding in any more drama.
“Although, your mother tells me he’s already sent multiple boxes of gifts for you.”
I nod, and explain, “Yes. Tristan had some fine chocolates and hand stitched undergarments imported from France.”
“You’ll wear them for him, but don’t eat the chocolate,” he demands. “I won’t have you getting fat and lazy before he signs the marriage license.”
I cringe, but thankfully, he misses it. “Okay.”
He squeezes my shoulder once more and gives it a little shake. “Keep it up, honey.” With that parting remark, he dismisses me, and I practically run to the safety of my room.
I need that scholarship more than ever. I have to get the fuck out of here and away from my future being planned for me. I have to be far from my crazy father and the off chance that this engagement could fall through. Lord knows if that happens, my life will be ruined for sure.
My phone rings and a sense of relief washes over me at finally seeing Brandon’s name flashing across the screen. He hasn’t spoken to me since Tristan had me start sitting with him at lunch and flashed my engagement ring to the entire cafeteria. Brandon’s been avoiding and tiptoeing around me like a kicked dog. After the fifth time I called him to explain and he let it go to voicemail, I backed off realizing he wasn’t accidentally missing my call but doing it on purpose.
Of course, my feelings were hurt at him blowing me off, but at the same time, I understand why he’s keeping his distance. I think he’s in self-preservation mode, or at least, he has been. He’s never been quiet about his feelings for me and how he wants us to be more than friends. I’ve always had him in the friend zone, regardless of his resiliency. Not having him around lately has felt like a piece of me has been missing and I don’t like it. I broke down and asked Sam if he hates me, but she swears he doesn’t. However, she did say that I’ve broken his heart and that sucks. It makes me feel like crap because I really do care about him, just not in the same way he does about me.
Boys should altogether be on the back burner for me. I need to be focused on getting accepted to a college. And not only the admission process but also be awarded a fully-paid scholarship. It’ll be tough enough to work to support myself and handle the full school load, let alone pay for college courses. I don’t want to depend on my father for anything, and once I’m gone, I don’t plan on falling back on my parents for assistance. Everything with that would come with strings attached, and that’s what I’m trying so hard to escape from.
Yet, I can’t seem to help but find myself smitten with the quadruplets. Tristan drives me crazy being bossy. Brent is pensive and usually keeps to himself. Cole is an asshole who is also surprisingly thoughtful, and Axel is easily sliding into the best friend spot next to Sam. If Brandon and I can’t work through his hurt feelings and wounded pride, then I could easily see Axel filling his place. It makes me sad because I’ve known Brandon most of my life, but it is what it is, I guess.
It doesn’t help that they’re all insanely gorgeous, cocky, and at times even flirt with me. I’ve been kissed by three of them, and Brent was an almost kiss that still has me furtively wishing he’d have just gone for it and given in to temptation. At times I can’t stand the four jerks that somehow have begun to rule the academy, yet I can’t seem to get through my days without them being included in some way either. It doesn’t help that nearly every girl in school wants them and I’m wearing an engagement ring from the charismatic one who also happens to be the family football dream come true. It’s unwillingly morphed me into public enemy number one in their books. If only I could come out and tell them all that I don’t want the damn diamond, that I’d rather have my freedom versus the boy.
With a relieved breath, I hit accept and say, “Brandon.” A sigh of relief escapes me that he’s speaking to me again. It’s our longest stint of time not conversing with each other.
“Jesus Kresley, you okay? I just found out about what happened to your car. The academy was ripe with gossip at the end of the day, but I didn’t know the rumor held any merit until Sam cornered me about it at practice.”
My heart fills, my chest warming at the sound of his voice and knowing he still cares about my well-being. “I’m okay…a bit shaken up if I’m being honest about it.”
“Fuck, I bet. I still can’t believe anyone had the guts to take it that far. I’m glad you weren’t around or who knows what the psycho could’ve done to you as well. You want me to come over, so you’re not alone when you have to tell your father?”
I don’t air what happens out in the open, but being friends with Brandon and Sam throughout the years they’ve managed to catch bits and pieces. They don’t know just how explosive my dad can be, but I’m sure they have their own ideas of what kind of monster he is. They probably aren’t too far off either. Brandon’s father can be pretty controlling and cruel at times; unfortunately, for my friend, his dad doesn’t hide it as well from the public as mine has managed to so far. The entire school has witnessed his dad lose it on him after a football game gone bad before. Sam and I were crying watching him treat Brandon so horribly, but we couldn’t do anything about it. The school staff eventually stepped in to soften it from coming back on the academy. Otherwise, Sam and I could only try to comfort Brandon. He was mortified, of course, and wouldn’t speak to anyone for an entire week.
“Thank you, but he was already here at home when I arrived. Since I was back early as well, I had to explain what happened to my car as soon as I walked in the door.”
“Oh wow,” he says, a different degree of concern and compassion coating his voice. “And you’re okay...right? Do you need me to come get you or bring you anything? I’ll be there, just say the word and no one will keep me out of that house.”
Tears crest at his thoughtfulness and because I know telling him the rest, about Cole helping me and being rewarded with the tennis bracelet will only hurt him. That’s definitely not what I want. I wish I could have him come over so we could talk in person and I could try to let him down less than just outright saying it over the phone. Before, it would’ve been fine to invite him here as long as I gave my mom some notice; you know, for her to keep up appearances and all. Now, however, it can’t happen. If I invite another boy over that isn’t Tristan or his brothers, no matter how good a friend, the length of time I’ve known them or me swearing it’s strictly platonic, it would be a deal breaker for my father. His good mood would vanish almost instantly, and I’d be punished for what he’d assume would be me putting my arrangement with Tristan in jeopardy.
“I wish you could come over; I feel like I haven’t gotten to spend time with you in forever.”
“I can leave right now and be on my way,” he replies immediately.
“I-uh...I’m sorry, but it
’s just not a good time.”
“Did he hurt you, Kresley?” Brandon’s voice turns angry, and anxiety grows that he won’t listen to me, and he’ll show up here. Wincing, I shake my head but realize he can’t see me. I’m used to video chatting with Sam. I’m glad we’re not able to see each other, or he’d know I was holding back some details from him. He’s always been good at reading me.
“No-no, nothing like that. He was actually pretty okay about everything.”
“Wow,” he remarks. “I almost can’t believe it. I’ve seen you upset and worried for much smaller reasons before. I’m glad, though. Maybe he’s finally realizing he shouldn’t scare you like he has in the past. You’re the smart one, Kres; you’ll be off to college in no time, just wait and see.”
Biting my lip, I sigh, “Thanks, Brandon, but I won’t hold my breath.” I don’t like admitting it, but it’s true. My father won’t ever change, and I’d be a fool to believe otherwise. “I did get a new car, so that’s the good news. I hope no one messes with it again; I don’t know what I’ll do.”
“Who the hell would do that to you?” he asks with resentment lacing the question.
“I have no idea, trust me. I was completely caught off guard to see that someone hates me so much.”
“They’re fucking idiots. No one has any reason to dislike you or be mean to you. Fuck them all.”
“Thanks, Brandon.” I smile to myself at his proclamation. “I’ve missed this. I’ve missed you.”
“I needed some time.”
“I understand. I hope you know that you’ll always be my friend, Brandon.”
He huffs. “A friend. Yeah. I gotta go, Kres, just wanted to make sure you didn’t need me.”
The way he says it makes my fist squeeze in frustration. He wants me to need him, and I do, just not the way he wishes. I miss having my goofy, easygoing friend around, especially with how malicious the girls have been to me at the academy lately. I haven’t necessarily hated school in the past; if anything, it’s been an escape for me as I’ve gotten older. This year just sucks. I feel sorry for people who have to experience bullying—their entire time in school has to be complete hell. I kind of understand why some kids go as far as committing suicide or run away. No one should experience such hatred, especially without some sort of an escape away from it.
“I’ll see you tomorrow?” I probe, hopeful. I’m not looking forward to telling him about my car, but I hope he’ll at least talk to me about other stuff. His silent treatment has gone on for too long.
“Yep, and if I see any of those assholes treating you wrongly, I’m putting them in the fucking trash cans. Give the fucks a taste of their own treatment.”
A giggle bursts free at the image of Brandon picking up random rude kids and tossing them in the school trash cans. I shouldn’t laugh about something like that, but I do anyway.
He whispers, “There she is. I missed that sound.”
My laugh catches in my throat, and I quickly say, “See you tomorrow, Brandon.”
“Bye, beautiful,” he murmurs, and I end the call.
It’s so good to talk to him, but he’s still calling me beautiful, and the last thing I want is Tristan or Brent hearing it. The fight following that comment would break my heart. Boys shouldn’t make you choose, yet they always seem to. How do I pick between my best friends and the guys I can’t seem to get out of my head? How am I supposed to choose one guy, when I’m quickly becoming attached to all four of them?
T
he following weeks are basically the same miserable routine of harassment, minus my car being destroyed again. The mistreatment continues, the girls getting ballsier as the days go by. I’ve never been a fighter, and I haven’t had to stand up for myself much in the past, so I’m stuck with a lost feeling. I’m a naturally kind person. I firmly believe that kindness is free, so being bitchy back to the mean girls is a struggle for me, especially when it’s all day every day. When someone’s rude, I stop from immediately responding and try to think first that maybe they’re having a bad day or something’s going on in their life that has made them act that particular way. However, when it’s the same girls being uncouth day in and day out, it’s hard to not strike back. Sam, on the other hand, has no issue being a bitch right back, and her middle fingers have become her favorite response.
Most of these girls I’ve been around most of my life, and they’ve always been reasonably kind to me, or they didn’t really speak to me. Now, it’s like I’m a scuffed-up pair of Louboutin’s you find on the sale rack. The kind you occasionally try on but then chuck to the back of the closet rather than wear or donate them.
“Has he invited you to homecoming yet?” Sam inquires randomly as we head for class.
The halls are decorated in various school spirit gear. Homecoming will be here quickly, and while it’s nothing I’ve paid much attention to in the past, aside from attending the game, our school makes a huge deal out of it the entire week prior. There’s an exclusive newsletter about it, morning announcements featuring various football players, nominations, and bake sale with themed concessions, a door decorating contest, prizes, pep rally, spirit day, court voting, the football game, a dance, and the crowning ceremony. I’m sure I’m forgetting something, but it’s a bit over the top. Not surprising, though, as a few previous football players from here have gone off to play pro.
“No,” I shake my head and sip from my bottled cucumber and strawberry infused water. “But he’s probably focused on the game anyway. Tristan and Brent both will be starting and playing the entire game. You and I both know they’re the best players out of the green and blue teams besides Brandon.” Rather than the academy’s coaches calling the teams A and B, they opted for colors as to not offend any parents and risk losing out on enrollment and athletic fees. I had no idea what any of it meant, but Brandon and Sam explained it all to me.
She claps her hands excitedly, beaming a loaded smile. She’s got some idea cooking up; I can read it on her. I doubt it’ll be anything I want to take part in as she’s always up to something.
“What?” I ask with a groan and end up laughing at her. No matter what crazy ideas she comes up with, I have to at least hear her out. She’s my best friend, but she’s full of mischief at times.
“I was interviewing coach about the upcoming game, and I overheard your beau.”
Rolling my eyes, I switch my art issued sketch book and purse to my other hand. “We’re not in some classic fairy tale you dork. Besides, he’s not my beau, just my fiancé.”
We come to a standstill outside my art class. It’s one of the few classes I’m not very good at but enjoy it anyhow. I like it because I don’t have to overthink when I’m busy creating something. The course has become my in-school sanctuary that I had no idea I’d need so badly this year. It also doesn’t hurt that the instructor is friendly and easygoing; most of my other professors are uptight.
Sam leans in, pulling my elbow so we’re close enough that people can’t easily overhear us. She stage whispers, “Tristan and Brent were talking to Hazel Jacobs.”
My brow scrunches, picturing the perfect head varsity cheerleader. I mean, of course, they would talk to her at some point, both guys are varsity football players, and she cheers them on. Jealousy swirls inside my veins, yet I can’t bring myself to say anything hateful. I’ve spoken to Hazel in the past; she’s one of the few cheerleaders that’s not full of bullshit and glitter. She’s smart, helpful and drop-dead gorgeous. It was no surprise the cheerleaders voted her to lead them. Most everyone in school likes Hazel.
But Brent and Tristan? Tristan’s my fiancé. Damn, damn, damn. I shouldn’t care, yet I do. What if one of them starts dating her? Do they want her? I have no right to be possessive over the quad, but deep down, I am. I’ve come to think of them as mine, even if they are dicks half the time I see them. I met them first; I’m around at least one of them all the time...I don’t know if I can handle watching them with other
girls. There’s talk of them being with various females around school—that’s no surprise—but to see it? I feel sick just thinking about it.
Sam continues, speaking faster as the bell’s about to ring and warn us of tardiness. “Actually, that’s the wrong description. They weren’t chatting, more like demanding.” My brow wrinkles, gut churning at what she’s going to say. She finishes, and it’s just as bad, but in the opposite direction I was expecting. “They’re determined that she recruits you to join the cheer squad.”
“What?” I gasp, with my mouth dropping open in stunned disbelief. She has to be kidding.
Sam cackles with glee. “I know! My little jogging, purple-haired, book nerd best friend, engaged to the wealthiest boy in school and now a varsity cheerleader too!”
“No way, Sam,” I argue. “Everyone here hates me right now. Are you joking? Please tell me you’re just screwing with me.” My fingers rub my temples in frustration before muttering, “Damn it, I can’t believe he did this. I’m definitely not going to homecoming with him…no way.”
“This is Tristan and Brent we’re talking about, Kres. They do whatever the hell they want, and if they snap their fingers, it’ll happen. Anyway, don’t be surprised if Hazel stops to talk to you soon about any of it.”
“Sam! I can’t do this! The season has already started, plus I don’t know how to cheer. I definitely don’t know their little chants or whatever they’re called. Crap, those girls will have way too many opportunities to torture me.”
She snorts. “Pah-leese! Tristan is putting you at the top of the food chain. You’ll be right beside him with money and now athletics.” She winks, flashes a wide smile and takes off down the hall in the opposite direction toward her class. Sam’s newfound information echoes in my head, leaving behind a bad taste in my mouth over what’s sure to come.
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