Revenge: A Reverse Harem High School Bully Romance (Montlake Prep Book 4) Page 3

  But I’m not going to let Arielle have her way one hundred percent. I invite Beth and Mancuso to sit at the second table. Cora’s like a stray magnet and she keeps wandering over to speak to Mancuso. They’re so cute to watch. She sits on his lap instead of getting an extra chair, but when Arielle calls, Cora goes scampering back. But I’m not doing it just to be kind. Mancuso is our link to Cora, and Arielle won’t be suspicious if she sees Cora hanging around us when he’s close by.

  My phone chimes, and I check it. There’s mail in my account. I hardly ever check my mail, but this is marked urgent. It’s a notification that someone was trying to get into my account earlier. I look up and scan the lunchroom. Beth wouldn’t do this again, and Arielle is actually busy talking to a junior girl—a hopeful candidate that will want to take her place after she’s graduated. The girl’s a recruit, and I guess screwing with me is the dare. But neither of them have their phones out.

  My gaze scans the room until it lands on Anthony. His eyes widen as I glare back at him, and quickly, he shoves his phone into his backpack. I’m on my feet and moving before I consider being cautious. Anthony’s been sitting alone at his table at the back. The table where the three of us used to sit together, but Beth has definitely moved on as she sits with her back to Anthony, joking with Jacob.

  Anthony slings his backpack off the table and onto a chair. His old bag is gone, replaced with a new one with a bazillion zippers and a socket for his electronics. The tag is some upstart tech company, and I know they’re pricey because Uncle Phil was looking to buy a similar style in a messenger bag.

  “Let me see your phone,” I demand.

  Anthony leans back and barely looks me in the eye. “It’s not your business.”

  “I want to see it anyway,” I hiss.

  “And what happens when I say no again?” His eyes meet mine, challenging me to lash out. “You going to call your boyfriends over to get it?”

  I yank the chair out beside him, not caring that people are staring over at us. Watching, Jacob is turned in his seat. He’s ready to run over and clamp down on Anthony like a pit bull. I wonder if they’ve always hated each other.

  I follow Anthony’s gaze straight to Arielle. She glances over but continues to talk to the junior. Casually, she pats her blonde hair as if Anthony is of little interest to her. I look back at Anthony, and I know by his guilty expression who gave him that ridiculously overpriced backpack.

  I face forward, not looking at him as I speak. And Anthony mimics me. To a casual observer, we don’t look as if we know one another.

  “Arielle isn’t what you think she is, Anthony,” I say quietly.

  He scoffs. “You mean she’s not like you.”

  “I’ve heard that dig before, and it’s getting dull. I mean that she will use you the same way she used Beth.”

  “Beth is fickle,” he replies. “And she wasn’t up front with her.”

  “What does that even mean?” I shake my head in disbelief. Jacob turns in his seat, so he’s facing us, but the posturing only makes Anthony laugh.

  “Tell your boy that I’m getting a restraining order against him if he raises a fist to me again.”

  I sigh, realizing that this intervention is useless. Any friendship that we had is long gone. Anthony and I don’t have the connection that Beth and I have. Beth and I can have bad times and still find each other again. Anthony will always be lost.

  “Look.” Stubbornly, I try again. “She’s vindictive, so be careful. And stay out of my accounts. My uncle secured all of them. So you’d have to do more than just try to guess a password.”

  I don’t look at Anthony as I walk back to my table.

  “What was that about?” Jacob turns to face me sternly. In fact, they’re all screwing up their faces into judgmental scowls as I sit down. I laugh when I notice Mancuso looking overly concerned, as if I should also answer to him.

  “I was just telling him to behave,” I reply lightly. I don’t want to tell a lie, but I also don’t want to broadcast my business in the cafeteria. “I didn’t want to make a big deal of it, but he sent a text to Uncle Phil asking for a reference. Nothing big.”

  “What a loser.” Troy scoffs. “If I ever catch him at your uncle’s house ...”

  “Look,” I groan in exasperation. “Will you guys stop beating him up? If you keep punching him in the head, he won’t be able to count past two. I want Anthony to graduate and move on. Just leave him alone.”

  “Ignoring him fucks with his head more,” Beth adds to the conversation. “He wants to look cool, not be the fool.”

  The boys laugh, and Jacob pats Beth heavy-handedly on her back. She pitches forward, and his face falls in alarm. Beth scowls and then slaps his hard stomach. She winces as her hand makes contact with ripped muscle.

  Beth laughs. “Like a drum, mutha-fucker Fleming.”

  But the laughter dies down as we look toward the first table. Vicki is standing at the far side of the table, talking to Arielle. Vicki is the center of attention in head-to-toe Montlake plaid and black. Her long blonde hair is shaggy over her oversized plaid shirt, her black bra is visible under her black turtleneck, and her plaid mini meets the tops of her suede thigh-high boots. She looks like a reality TV star.

  The outfit is so fearless that even Beth is gawking. “Goddamn,” she stares with an open mouth. “I feel old.”

  Carefully, I glance over at Troy. His face is red, but not from embarrassment. He’s in a fury. Vicki’s outfit doesn’t speak money; it’s hollering issues. Troy is on his feet, across the room, and hauls a kicking Vicki out of the cafeteria by her upper arm.

  We all look to Jacob, and he holds up his hands. “I know nothing about that shit,” he replies.

  “You talk to him more than I do now,” replies Lucas. “Did you know his sister was back?”

  I knew, but the code told me to keep my mouth shut. That’s not it. Screw the code; I just didn’t want to gossip. And I didn’t expect to see Vicki at Montlake.

  “She can’t be a student,” I whisper as we all hunch shoulders toward the center of the table. “It’s too late in the year.”

  “Not if your last name is Saunders,” says Lucas. “The Saunders practically built Montlake, remember? I’m sure Cromwell was willing to make an exception for them if she’s a student.”

  Beth scoffs. “Why else would anyone be here?”

  Arielle leaves her seat and saunters out of the cafeteria, out of sight. Beth hisses until she gets Cora’s attention. Cora frowns, placing a slim finger to her lips. She leans back, dangerously close to falling out of her chair, to look around the corner.

  “Way to go, Reds,” whispers Mancuso.

  Troy comes around the corner, and we all start shoveling food into our mouth as if we’ve been eating all along. Troy sits down but doesn’t speak. He stares at his grilled chicken sandwich as if he ordered vegan instead and doesn’t want this mess on his plate. He pushes it away with a hard scowl.

  I’m bursting to know, but we can’t talk here. None of us can speak here. Arielle comes back into view, smiling, but Vicki doesn’t return with her. She smiles graciously at Troy, and Troy gives her a look of disgust. I’m thankful he never gave me that wicked look because that would’ve been the day I moved out of state.

  ***

  The days are getting longer, and daylight saving time will soon begin. No more old snow on the side of the road and waking up in the dark. We hang out after school a little longer each day by the deck, waiting for spring to hurry and show up. I find Beth by Arielle’s locker on the second floor after I receive her text. Beth has double-stick tape in her bag and a pile of condoms on the floor, including the ones from my locker.

  “What are you doing?” I ask.

  “I’m teaching you how to spell Bitch.”

  It’s wicked, but I want to do it badly. I place tape on the back of the foil packets as Beth tapes them to Arielle’s locker. She even puts a fancy loop on the top of the capital B.

  �
�Do you think maintenance will take it off?” I ask.

  Beth shakes her head. “Did they ever peel it off your locker?”

  I hand her another condom. And when she finishes, we take selfies in front of our handiwork.

  “Don’t post these,” I warn her.

  “Don’t worry. I’ve learned my lesson.”

  We head out toward the parking deck and shout as a cold wind whips around our legs. We hurry to the door as Troy and Vicki enter the deck. Troy holds the door as we walk through, not that the deck is heated, but we’re out of the wind.

  “Hi, Vicki,” I smile hard, but Vicki looks me up and down with a cool glance. “Did you enjoy your first day at Montlake?”

  She snorts back a short laugh. “You sound like my counselor. Yes, Ms. Page, I had fun today, and they taught us not to run with scissors.”

  “Victoria,” Troy’s voice is hard, as if he’s had more than enough of her snarky attitude. “Natalie’s being nice.”

  Vicki shoots me a pouty look. “And I’m just teasing. She knows that.”

  Actually, I didn’t, but I play it off. Maybe, I shouldn’t, but Troy looks like he’s had enough for one day without me sassing back. I smile, not because I think Vicki is funny, but Troy’s expression looks like my dad’s used to after a long car ride. It’s apparent that Arielle has been talking shit about me.

  Troy walks faster while Beth walks alongside Vicki and asks her about her boots. I run to catch up with Troy, wrapping an arm around his shoulder. Troy pauses for a split second; his blue eyes look startled, then appreciative. The wind blows his blond hair back as he smiles. He wraps his arm around my waist.

  “Thanks, Nat,” he whispers. “It’s been a rough day.”

  “Rough or ruffled?” I whisper.

  “Man, I’m dreading school tomorrow.” He shakes his head. “I’ve never dreaded going to school before.” His gaze is serious with intent. “I am so sorry for what I did to you.”

  He looks at me again, and I catch my breath. The expression in his eyes is so sincere, and though he’s apologized before, this time, I know he really means it.

  Beth and Vicki chat as we skip the elevator and hike up the ramp. Sometimes, it’s quicker than waiting in line, especially when there’s a crowd. Bits and pieces of their conversation drift past my ears. And I hear a word or two—music, bands, and of course, clothes are discussed. But then I hear a change in tone, and a chill shoots down me.

  “She warned me that you don’t like her,” Vicki says to Beth in a harsh tone. “But I’ve known Arielle since I was a kid. And I don’t take kindly to you talking shit about her. She may not have time to put you in your place, but I will.”

  Vicki picks up speed toward Troy’s car, leaving Beth behind. I let Troy go and wait for Beth to catch up.

  “What was that?” I ask.

  “I tried to tell her that Arielle is tricky.” Beth talks to Troy. “But she’s not hearing it.”

  Troy starts his car with his fob, and Vicki whips the passenger door open, hops in, and slams it shut. Safe inside, she turns up the music and shuts us out.

  “I thought I was going to enjoy senior year,” Troy walks toward his car. “I better go before she drives off without me.”

  “Wow,” says Beth. “Meet the woman that can tame Troy.”

  “She gets it from her mother,” I reply as Troy pulls off.

  Beth and I quick-hug before she heads for her car. I finish walking up another ramp as my legs ache, and I wish I had taken the elevator. But I perk up when I see Jacob’s Hummer parked beside my Audi. He’s leaning on his car and poking at his phone while he waits.

  Jacob wraps his arms around me, and I cuddle next to his warmth. He feels so good as my body warms from his touch. I tilt my head, and as if on command, Jacob kisses me, pressing his soft lips against mine. I hold him tighter as if my body wants to be even closer. I only break away because my knees are trembling and I need air.

  “God, you’re gorgeous,” I sigh.

  He smiles. “I’m glad to see you too. So,” he says. “What did you learn?”

  I smile. “Vicki’s been admitted as a freshman, and she’s already driving Troy crazy.”

  “She wasn’t like that even a year ago.”

  “I was thinking.” I don’t know how to say what I want to say, so I just launch into it. “Greg Saunders wants to offer me a job, and maybe, I can get something for you.”

  Jacob averts his gaze and steps toward the low wall of the deck and looks at the campus. I stand beside him, afraid that I may have ruined more than just the moment between us.

  “I just want to help.” My voice falters.

  “Natalie,” Jacob gazes at me with soft eyes. “I appreciate you looking out for me. But I can’t work for another family, especially not the Saunders. I might as well apologize to my old man and work for him instead. I’m not stupid. I’ll figure something out.”

  “I didn’t mean to imply that you were.”

  “I know.” He stares out into the distance over the muddy fields. “I’m in a rough place, but I’ll get through it.”

  We stand in silence, looking down on the campus from the top floor of the deck. It’s a bird’s-eye view of our little world, a world that means too much to us. The art building is completely gone, replaced with a fenced-in pit. And the field houses are far off in the distance, almost as if they’re out of reach. Jacob stares at them, and I wonder what he’s thinking. The sun is about to go down, taking the last bit of remaining light with it, and our silent musing is disturbed by the sound of bickering below us. I can distinguish the shadows of two people as the gloomy figures approach the door leading into the deck.

  Arielle’s voice is a screech that drowns out Lucas’ low and agitated hisses. It makes me tremble to see it. Not just because I hate to see Lucas in pain, but because I hate to see anyone so unhappy, even Arielle. Even if she deserves it.

  “Do you think we’ll ever fight like that?” I whisper to Jacob, wondering if our talk could have taken an ugly turn.

  “Never,” he replies as he wraps his arms around me.

  CHAPTER 4

  Troy

  Sunday dinner is our family’s limited group therapy session. Our mother talks while we all listen. Dad sighs a few times as he pokes at his salad. It was decided that we were to eat healthier because our mother has put on weight. Her sweet tooth flared up after filling the house with wedding cake samples. Vicki and I spent an idle Saturday searching the house for Mother’s stash of cookies and candy bars. After we filled a shopping bag, we went down to the rec room and pigged out while streaming some strange series with aliens that live in caves. Vicki wanted to watch it, but she fell into a sugar-induced coma, and by the time it ended, I was hooked. Our mother freaked when she couldn’t find her chocolate later. Dad had to send out for more to stop the cursing and the threats.

  So our punishment is salad and quinoa. I poke at a tomato that refuses to get on my fork. My stomach starts to ache. I’ll drive to the Shimmy Shack later for a burger.

  “Victoria, how was school this week?” asks Mother.

  “Fine, mother. I want to go back.”

  I dip my head down to hide a grin that I can’t keep off my face. The damn centerpiece is between us, so all I can see is a tall glass vase filled with forced bulbs. Huge white tulips confined to glass block my sister from my view. I reach over and push it aside.

  “Troy, what are you doing?” asks my mother.

  “I can’t see Vicki. I’m tired of talking to a plant.”

  “Victoria,” she corrects me. “I don’t want you ruining the centerpiece. Those flowers are delicate.”

  Actually, the thing is more solid than I thought, and I probably should have stood up before trying to move it. It’s heavy, and I manage to take the tablecloth with it.

  “Maybe we should have the flowers elsewhere when we eat, dear?” Dad frowns at the centerpiece since he can’t see Mother past it. “There are other tables in the house.”
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br />   “It’s okay,” I grab my plate and walk around the table, so I’m sitting between Dad and Vicki. “It’s a big enough table to sit where we want.”

  Vicki smiles as she sits up straight. Beaming, she almost looks like my sweet little sister again. Not the sassy girl that showed up at Montlake three weeks ago, causing a tsunami of gossip. Mother is just about to say something when Dad shuts her down.