Cruel Boys Read online
Page 3
It’s a photo of an older man with thick silver hair in a cobalt-colored suit. He’s smiling at the camera, but his smile looks more like a sneer. At a time when celebrities want to be real, it’s so phony it turns my stomach. I squint at the picture, trying to place it. The face sort of looks familiar.
“Nope.” I shake my head. “I don’t know him.”
“You better memorize that face quick. You were just giving lip to his son. That’s Mel Vaughn.”
Immediately, Luna leans in to take a look. “What does he do?”
“He decides if you’re in the industry,” Theo replies. “Or waiting tables for the next twenty years wondering where it all went so terribly wrong.”
I sigh. “I guess I’m working for tips … or my dad.”
Theo straightens up and fixes us with a grim gaze. “Three names you need to learn are Dom Vaughn, Silas Vinson, and Chase Evans. Learn them, and stay clear,” he says. “I know you were trying to prove a point by saying his name, but everyone knows Dom’s name.”
“You didn’t stay clear,” I point out.
“I’m interested in an industry they’re not a part of and don’t have an interest in.” He sits down cross-legged on his twin bed. “And I know how to play them off one another.”
“How do you do that?” I ask. I know how to tell people to fuck off and get out of my life, but I don’t know much about smiling while I turn the knife. I need an education.
Theo smirks. “Old-fashioned rivalry works best. They hate each other more than they hate anyone else, including their families.”
I feel a sick chill that makes me cringe. I’m already guessing who they’ll hate a little more.
I pin Theo with my gaze. “I know you didn’t help us so you could show us your room.”
He motions toward a couch covered with a quilted throw.
“Is this the legendary casting couch?” Luna quips. “I thought it would be bigger.”
Theo laughs. “I need cute girls willing to pose for my artwork. No hanky-panky. No matter how hard I try.”
“I’ll do it,” Luna bounces up and down with excitement. “I can use it in my portfolio. You can draw me as a logo for my TikTok profile.”
“I have a costume.” He dashes over to his closet and pulls out two scraps of fabric that wouldn’t cover his face.
“Where?” I mock. “I don’t see it.”
He shakes his curls. “Have I not made my preference for dick abundantly clear?”
“I don’t care if you’re a eunuch,” I glare at him. “I’m not lying half naked on your dorm room floor in that.”
But Luna grabs the threads. “This is more than I wear when I did some modeling work on the beach.” She holds it up. “I can rock this.”
***
I thought the confrontation with Dom was over and done. In fact, I had forgotten it, but after a few days, the shit starts. It begins with odd looks and whispers as I walk into homeroom. No one says anything directly, and that gnaws at me. A glance, then a whisper follows a laugh while I sit alone in class. I look up, and no one is looking back, but I feel like someone is staring when I look down at my pad. I’m used to attention—my dad is rich, my brother is popular, and I’m good-looking. I’m not going to act oblivious to my good luck in the gene pool. I’m not the prettiest girl, but even if I had the face of a pug, my long blonde hair, tanned legs, and trust fund would camouflage the negatives.
But to the other students, I’m clearer than clean glass. People are looking through me, and when they do notice me, they screw up their faces as if I don’t own a bar of soap. During last class, my phone chimes. Before I switch it off, I read a text from Theo to meet in his room. After class, I text Dad to let him know I’ll be late. I sneak into Theo’s dorm and see a light on under his door. I knock softly as I watch the hallway. A kid opens his door and watches me enter.
“What’s going on?” I ask as soon as he shuts the door.
Theo looks ill at ease. He pretends he’s just a visual communications major who’s minding his own business. But Theo’s in the loop with the kids who plan on going into the industry. The ones who want to start their own studios the day they graduate. He doesn’t want to talk about what’s wrong, but he has to. I don’t want to do it, but I have to get in his face.
“I know you know,” I sigh, “because you have a big mouth and bigger ears.”
He grimaces but avoids my gaze. “Okay, Vicki, sit down. People are spreading rumors about you.”
I sit cross-legged on the quilted couch. “You mean Dom is spreading rumors.”
He nods. “Along with the other two heads of Cerberus. About you and your dad.”
A chill wraps around my bones. “What about my dad?”
“I’m not the one saying this,” he replies. “I’m just repeating it. We only just met, but I don’t buy it.”
I push. “Stop stalling and spill it.”
Theo whispers, “People are saying that you’re banging your dad.”
My mouth drops open like it’s on a broken hinge. I can’t believe what he just said, but I don’t want him to repeat it. “What the actual fuck?” I almost shout. “Dom’s met my dad. He knows he’s a good, decent person.”
“Well, now he looks like a good lay, nobody’s denying it.” Theo looks pained as our eyes meet. “Sorry, please don’t look at me like that. It’s scary.”
I shake the evil expression off my face. “Sorry, I displaced my anger for a moment. Thanks for telling me the truth.”
I’m out the door and have no idea where I’m going, but I know who I’m looking for. I head for the resident center and see Dom hanging out by the door of a screening room. He sees me barreling down on him and smirks.
“Hi, daddy’s girl.”
I put my finger in his face. “You’re an asshole. I don’t know what your problem is with me. But leave my dad out of this.”
He leans back, not giving a shit. “Touched a nerve?” he asks.
“My dad has nothing to do with us. You’re pissed because I said no to you.”
“I didn’t ask.” Dom’s getting off on the insults. “And why would I want a skank like you? I don’t share.”
It wasn’t my imagination, or was it? No, he hit on me. “You were trying pretty hard when I met you this summer.”
“Not as hard as you,” he corrects me.
“If I had been trying, you wouldn’t have left empty-handed.” I cross my arms over my chest to keep from hitting him. He wants to play this game? Fine, we can play. I may not be good at playing the tease, but I definitely knew how. “That’s too bad,” I whisper, “Because maybe I was only saving you for later.”
The smile slips away. Dom looks at me hard but doesn’t say anything.
I shoot him a sultry look and let my blonde hair cover one eye. “Ever tried the pinball wizard?” I whisper.
“What’s that?” he asks.
“Of course, you don’t know,” I wink. “And too bad, you never will.” And with that, I walk quickly away, hoping he won’t follow me.
“What’s the pinball wizard?” he shouts.
I blow Dom a kiss then rush out the main door. I don’t know either. But I do know that he’ll be thinking about it for the rest of the day.
Chapter Three
Confronting Dom slows the rumor mill down but not to a grinding halt. It doesn’t completely stop, but I can handle the random odd look. I let it be known that I turned Dom down for sex. And the incest rumor loses traction. I don’t have time for BS, and I’m surprised anyone else does either. Schoolwork is brutal. Not just because of our teacher’s expectations, but because no one wants to look lame in class with some DiWhy art project. And I sure as hell don’t want to show a film short that looks like YouTube from the nineties. Not when the kid next to me makes shorts that are aiming for Oscars.
I was the center of unwanted attention before, at Montlake. I think about what my SIL, Natalie, had to deal with. Many kids were bullied in that school. But she wa
s crucified. All because she didn’t slink off into a corner or let them see her cry.
“Something must’ve happened to flip Dom,” says Luna as she pays for an iced coffee in the resident center. “It’s weird. The guy chases after you for a day and then hates you the next.”
“I don’t have time to play with little boys,” I reply. “He needs to tell me what’s wrong or let it go. I’m not dealing with it. It’s getting shut down. Besides, it’s senior year. Like we have time for pettiness?”
Luna nods, but for a moment, her thoughts are somewhere else. “How are you going to get them to back down?”
A poster is stapled to the bulletin board, announcing an emergency student council election for school president. I walk over to it and read the details in fine print. I’m not much of a joiner, but if I did join, it would be easier to beat them from inside. Maybe I can work the system and control the boy.
“Why so late?” I ask, “and why only the president?”
Luna looks at the poster with mild interest. “In class, I heard that the president-elect left the school. She got a juicy role on a miniseries shooting in New York. Hard to turn that down.”
Being president would give me a certain advantage. It would be easier to knock them into the mud if I weren’t being dragged through it at the same time.
I take a picture of the details with my phone. “If I were president, I could hold them accountable for bullying.”
“You mean call them out publicly?” Luna’s eyes widen as if it’s a risky idea.
I nod. “They’d have a harder time pulling their petty shit if I ran on an anti-bullying platform. I don’t get Dom’s fascination with me, anyway.”
Luna eyes me up and down and frowns slightly. She even looks pretty when she grimaces. “You look too East Coast, and the problem is you don’t care if you fit in.”
I get a tone in my voice. “Why should I change?”
“Because in this industry, people fit in,” explains Luna with a tone to match. “Even if they start from the outside, they eventually fit in. You’re stirring the pot, and you don’t care that it’s boiling over onto the floor. Vicki, you’re making a mess.”
I laugh, but Luna looks as if she’s at my wake. “Okay, if you were me, what would you do?”
She steps back, putting a hand on her hip and a finger to her lip. I realize that I’ve just asked her to use her superpower. “This isn’t going to be quick. We can’t pick a new lipstick and you’ve won. You have to come to my house. Have you been to Palm Springs?”
I haven’t, because I have a good reason for not going there. Ever. I shake my head.
Luna pulls me by the arm toward the exit. “You have to come to my house if we’re going to do this right.” She sends a text on her phone. “Theo will hate us if I don’t invite him. He’s been thinking about this for weeks.”
“Thinking about what?” I scowl.
“Giving you a makeover. He’s drawn pictures of you as an anime girl. I know.” She tugs at the sleeve of my blue flannel shirt. “We don’t wear flannel here. Aren’t you burning up?”
Back home, flannel and black biker boots made me look edgy. They also offered me protection. But in SoCal, I look hot. Not cute hot, but physically uncomfortable. I don’t remember saying yes. But an hour later, I’m driving to Palm Springs with Theo in the passenger seat of my car.
“I’m a guarantee,” he says, putting on his sunglasses.
“What are you talking about?” I ask.
“I’m riding with you, so you don’t bail,” he says. “Oh, there it is—the Jersey eye roll. I guess that’s better than sucking your teeth.”
My makeover at Luna’s is nothing like the scene in Pretty Woman. I agree to experiment because I want a shot at winning the election. In the end, my transformation is worthy of RuPaul’s Drag Race, complete with fake lashes that I plan on throwing out later.
“Do they ever transform straight women on the show?” Luna asks. “I’d love to be made up like that once in my life.”
“They’d have nothing to do on you.” Theo smiles at Luna but keeps working on me for another hour.
“This is like the scene in La Femme Nikita,” sighs Luna as she paints my nails a shade called Glimmer Green.
Theo frowns as he combs out a tangle. “I was thinking of Sandra Bullock in the airport hangar.”
“So, when did you come out?” I ask Theo, taking the conversation off me.
“What do you mean?” he asks. “Come out of where?”
My jaw drops, and he reaches over and shuts it.
“Lesson one, Jersey girl,” he says, “Nosy questions are going to cost you votes. You’re too straightforward. On this coast, we tap each other’s cheeks with our dry lips and bat our lashes at our enemy.”
“I’m not being a doormat,” I growl. “Did you hear what that prick said about my dad?”
Theo exchanges a look with Luna. “Vicki,” he says, wrapping my hair in a twist, “do you know why celebrities don’t badmouth each other? Even if the other person deserves it? It’s because they don’t know who they’ll be working with next.”
“He’s right,” adds Luna, lighting up while she shakes a can of hairspray. “You don’t have to be a kiss-ass, but don’t be caught dropkicking their ass either.”
“We’ll see,” I mumble.
They moan in unison like a choir warming up.
“Look, I’m not running for student council to make friends. I’m running to take them down.”
Wide-eyed, Theo takes a step back. “You should have seen your eyes flash,” he whispers. “Promise that we’ll always be friends.”
Finally, I laugh. “Hand me a mirror. Let me see what you’ve done, and I’ll let you know.”
Luna leads me to the bathroom. “It’s like we colored you in but stayed in the lines.”
I smile, but they look nervous. “What? I’m happy. You did well.”
“Vicki,” Luna speaks softly, “we’ve spoken about the flannel.”
I press my lips together but avoid her gaze. These old shirts have been my security blanket since I was a freshman at Montlake. I feel brave, like I’m swinging a cape in the air as I stride into a room. Flannel wasn’t the choice of prep-school kids. It was the choice of rebels, and I felt safer rejecting them before they could reject me. Luna and Theo are staring at me, waiting for me to take it off or tell them why I don’t want to. Carefully, I tug one sleeve off, then the other.
“Success,” Luna claps.
I hug my shoulders, feeling exposed. Will they notice the faded track marks on my arms? Or should I just confess?
“I’ll need another shirt to wear. I get cold easily,” I explain lamely.
Luna dashes to her closet and pulls out a white silk shirt. She swings it around, and it catches the air, billowing out. “This is so much prettier,” she says as I put it on.
I wrap it tight around me, wondering if they saw what I see every day when I dress. I want to talk about it, but I don’t. I’m trying hard not to be that girl anymore. Not to lash out blindly at others or myself. I’m trying to take control by being in control, but my head is starting to pound with frustration.
“Luna, do you have makeup to cover these?”
Slowly, I lower the sleeves, and at first, she squints at my arms, but Theo notices the faint marks and blows out a breath.
“I don’t use any more,” I reply to his look of concern. “That’s why I’m a day student.”
Luna holds my hand. “My makeup’s a little darker, but I know the perfect concealer. And it won’t sweat off.” Her eyes are glassy as she stares into mine. Her openness is making me feel uncomfortable.
“That’s a big thing to share, Vicki,” she replies to my questioning gaze.
Luna hugs me, and Theo joins in. I cling to their warmth and understanding as if it were a lifeline, pulling me away from people who would judge me. The fear of rejection melts off me as I realize I have two true friends.
I sniff and gr
ab a tissue. “Come on, guys. You spent an hour on my makeup. Let’s not ruin it.”
***
The next day before my first class, I’m in the administrator’s office, registering for the student election. The admin offices are in the second-largest building on campus. The stone and wood structure has the appearance of a private home on the outside, but the inside is definitely an office space, with beige walls and gray carpets. I follow the directory and walk into an open-plan room that looks more like an airport first-class lounge than a high school admin’s office.