Cruel Boys Page 5

  “Don’t worry, Vicki,” he whispers. “I’ll catch you.”

  “And drop my phone? I’d rather fall.”

  We laugh as Dad voices his impatience with our generation. When the video ends, I receive a smattering of applause.

  “Well done, Vicki,” says Neil. “Do you have any more botany vids with your dad?”

  I swallow. “I’m putting together a second one. Hopefully we can go looking for more plants soon.”

  Dom gives Neil a dark look that we both notice. He hands my phone back to me but avoids my gaze. I let out a slow breath, and then Dom looks at me. His gaze locks on mine, and I wish I hadn’t made a sound. He gives me a cocky grin, knowing he’s still in control again.

  “So, does anyone want to fill Vicki in on the club since she’s the newbie?” asks Dom.

  I cringe. The newbie? For all my daring and cunning, I’d like to fit in the moment I show up.

  ***

  When the meeting is over, I get up to leave quickly. Before I can make it to the door, Dom calls my name.

  “Vicki, walk with me,” he says.

  I look toward the open door, wishing I was on the other side. “I wanted to walk with Paloma and Rosie.”

  He doesn’t care. “I have to explain the club rules.”

  I’m sure there are plenty. We walk slowly down the hallway toward the exit door. I shiver when I realize that everyone else is long gone, and we’re alone. I stare at the heavy fire door as we approach it. A door thick enough to keep danger out or trap it in. I’m completely isolated down here with him.

  “You need our support for presidency,” Dom says, oblivious to my anxiety to be alone with him.

  I conceal my nerves. “I need it, but I’m not willing to do anything to get it.”

  “You won’t have to,” he replies.

  “Why do you want to help me anyway? You don’t even like me.”

  Dom laughs, but I’m relieved when he opens the door, and we start climbing the stairs. “That doesn’t matter. Do you really want to know why?”

  “Please tell me.”

  “Because I prefer to see you running the school and not Silas.”

  We stand at the top of the stairs by the closed door.

  “I thought you were buddies.” My voice has a snarky ring now that I know I’m almost safe.

  Dom grins. “Like you and your daddy.”

  He catches my hand before I can smack his fucking face. “Easy now, kitty. You behave, and I might give you a treat.”

  I try to yank away my hand, but he has a solid grip. I grit my teeth and pull harder, but it’s impossible. I might have to play along for a second.

  “Okay, so let’s talk support.” I say.

  His gaze drops to my chest for a brief second, and I feel a flush on my face. I wish I had my flannel shirt.

  “The cinematography club will sponsor and support you in the election, Vicki.”

  “And?” I ask.

  “And you’ll win.” He opens the door and releases my wrist. “That’s it.”

  “Cut the shit. You’re not a practicing philanthropist,” I say, rubbing my wrist. “What the fuck do you really want?”

  He turns quickly, pinning me with his hips to the wall, and places a finger under my chin. I have nowhere to look but into his hard eyes. My breath quickens as he leans close. “I’ll collect it when you win.”

  “I don’t like owing people.”

  Dom smiles as his eyes burrow into mine. “You’ll like owing me.”

  Chapter Six

  I’m trying to be slick by hanging posters in odd locations. We’re allowed to hang posters in any building but not outdoors on any organic surfaces like a tree. Principal Jagan doesn’t want non-biodegradable litter fluttering around campus. I have the bright idea of hanging my poster on the ceiling of every classroom. Of course, I can’t do it in the music room, with its twenty-foot-high ceilings, but I can do it in the humanities building. Bored in math class, the students will look up and see my poster.

  Trouble is I’m not tall enough, and Luna isn’t around. We’re friends, but we also have other things to do besides hanging out together all the time.

  Dom sees me struggling and walks over. “Here, let me help you with that.”

  I remember what he said the other day. I’ll like owing him. What did he even mean? I have my suspicions. But there are moments when Dom gives me a glimpse of the boy I met in the summer. And as much as I hate admitting it, there’s a part of me that can’t seem to quit him.

  “Don’t be stubborn, Vicki. Just let me help and get this over with.”

  Reluctantly, I hand the poster to him.

  He stands on a desk and easily staples my poster to the ceiling. He reaches down toward me. “You want me to put up another one? It will look better if you hang them up in threes.”

  I half shrug. “Sure.”

  I hand him another poster and watch him reach up and reveal a glimpse of his lean body up. He has the flattest abs, but they also have definition, and his shorts are slipping down just enough for me to see his V. I bite my bottom lip as his waistband inches down lower. His body is tanned, with no lines. Where could he go sunbathing here in the nude?

  Dom is looking down at me, waiting for another poster. I can’t play it off that I wasn’t checking him out.

  He smirks, and I look away.

  “Last one,” I say as I hand him the final poster. He saw where I was looking, and the shit-eating smirk won’t be going away anytime soon. Just because I’m checking you out, doesn’t mean I like you. Besides, I’m allowed to look. He’s certainly had his fair shares of look at me.

  He pauses, not taking the poster out of my hand, and watches me. He takes his time and eventually pulls it out of my fingers without losing eye contact.

  He turns and starts stapling. “So, what’s your story? I hear your family is old money that bought into tech. Are you the black sheep that ran off to Hollywood?”

  “Baa, baa,” I reply.

  He grunts, smirk still on his face, as he staples up the second poster neatly beside the first. I have to remind myself that Dom is a jerk, and that I still haven’t gotten the official sponsorship from the cinematography club yet. And for all I know, he could be asking questions for Silas. The first round of debates hasn’t happened yet. Dom claims that he and Silas aren’t tight, but they spend an awful lot of time together, and I’d like to know why. But until I find out more information, all I can do is guess.

  I hold my hands behind my back in a girly pose that pushes out my breasts. “So, one of the guys in my class mentioned this thing called the list?”

  Me doing whole innocent flirty girl thing is a joke. Even if I got dolled up and pretended like I’m a girl with more tits than brains, I couldn’t really pull it off.

  Dom doesn’t buy my act and stares down on me. “Why do you think you should know about that?”

  I toss my hair a little. “I’m just curious.”

  “There are better things to be curious about.” His eyes sweep my body, and then he puts in another staple. “There are kids that have been here for years and still don’t know. You think you’re special because your daddy’s rich. Having a billionaire daddy around here doesn’t make you a standout.”

  I scoff as I watch him finish the final staple and jump down from the desk. “That’s something I don’t need to be told. Plenty of kids are rich. I was wondering if I have to be born into this list or if I can earn it.”

  “Come here, Vicki.” He leans against the desk and beckons me to step in closer. His legs are splayed and I have a pretty good idea where he wants me to be. When he sees the narrow gaze I give him, he motions with his hands for me to come closer.

  “Tough talk, soft girl.” He smirks. “I won’t bite today. I’m only going to tell you a story.”

  “Said the Big Bad Wolf.”

  But curiosity pulls me into his arms. I fit perfectly as he sits on the desk and guides me onto his lap. I wrap my arms around his
neck to keep my balance.

  “What do you know about the list?” he asks.

  “I know it exists, and I know I need to be on it. Or I’m wasting my time here.”

  He lifts a brow. “Hard work doesn’t appeal to you?”

  “You know better, Dom.” I scoff. “Hard work is no guarantee of success. That’s a fallacy, just like luck. I don’t have industry connections, and I’m not going to find them on TikTok.”

  “You’re not wrong.” He nods. “My family has been in Hollywood since the first star was placed in the cement. My dad didn’t go to a school like this. He went to work at a studio. He had an office the first day he showed up because he knew the right person. He wasn’t even twenty.”

  “So, why are you here?” I whisper. This isn’t exactly the place to go if you already have the connections.

  Dom’s other hand closes around my waist. Hostility morphs into something else as our mutual guardedness unexpectedly slips a notch. His warm breath tickles my cheek and I become keenly aware of the thin space between us. But it’d be playing dirty if I squirmed on his lap. For now, I stay still. I need information, and he’s in a talkative mode.

  “I’m here to search out new blood,” he replies. “And make connections for myself. My dad is old school, and that old school is burning down.” He sighs softly as I his fingers trace the hem of my T-shirt until they hover the bare space above my waistband. “Anyone can create a persona online. Well, that doesn’t work when you need to show up. I need to see it and feel it.”

  His fingers dip a little lower and he strokes my skin until goose bumps flare and a tingle starts between my thighs. He’s playing dirty.

  “Are you trying to get me to climb on the casting couch?” I ask, starting to squirm a little. Two can play this game.

  He looks at me and all I can see is my own reflection in his hungry pupils. “Are you offering?”

  I shake my head and he pulls back, smiling.

  “If you want to be on that list, you have to convince me.” He says. “Not now, but someday soon.”

  He pushes me off his lap to stand up, but he does not let me go. I gaze into his eyes, and his pupils are dilated. I can feel the heat coming off his body. If we stay like this, something will happen. I crave him. But he’s right, it’s too soon.

  “Come on, Vicki,” he whispers.

  I’m disappointed in him. Here it comes, begging for more.

  Dom grins. “Time for class.”

  I wasn’t expecting that, and I play off my surprise.

  “The list,” he scoffs. “You don’t need it.” He leans me against a desk until his mouth is against my ear. “A pretty blonde like you doesn’t need a list.”

  “So, you’re implying I can fuck my way through the industry.” I push him off. “That’s not my style. No matter how unthreatening the package may look.”

  He catches my hand before I can walk out the door. “Play hard to get for too long, and you’ll be playing alone.”

  At Montlake Academy, we had chimes that rang. Here, you better be in class on time. Stink eye is your punishment if you’re late, because chances are you’re interrupting a student presentation. Sure, there are artsy-fartsy, organic-vegan kids named Rainbow and Interstellar floating around campus, but that doesn’t make them any less competitive.

  One day, I notice that I am the only person running against Silas. That either makes me very competitive or very stupid. Either way, I am getting plenty of attention. Even if I don’t make it onto the list, people around here will remember my name.

  Chapter Seven

  “Is it V for vagina?” asks some dorky-ass kid, pointing to my poster in the resident center.

  I glare at the smartass. “I’ve had those posters up for a week, and you’re only coming up with that now?”

  The kid laughs nervously, but he’s laughing alone. He doesn’t know how to read the crowd.

  “You have to be quick around here, boy.”

  I glance over and see Silas watching as I take this underling down. I turn away, leaving the dumbass in the dust, and wink at Silas as I sashay out the door to my senior class meeting.

  “I saw that,” Dom smiles as he catches up and walks alongside me. “I felt your icy air blowing from all the way over here.”

  I smile back at him, noticing that kids are seeing us together. It’s a boost for my campaign, being seen with one of the top guys on campus. I wrap the sleeves of my flannel shirt around my waist.

  “Vicki, I thought you had given this up.” He tugs at my sleeve.

  “The AC is cranked to freezing in my classes. Besides, I’m not the only one who wears flannel.”

  He tugs at the hem. “No, that’s plaid cotton, not this fuzzy shit you like.”

  I swipe his hand away, and he tries to grab my shirt again one more time as we walk down a tree-lined path towards the amphitheater in the woods. Each week, the seniors have a meeting with Principal Jagan. Last week, he had us meditating until the chants were vibrating the leaves on the trees.

  “Are you ready to find your inner child?” asks Dom.

  I roll my eyes. “You haven’t hit puberty yet, what’s there to find? It was sort of fun.” I admit. “But if he thinks I’m singing Kumbaya, I’m leaving.”

  “I heard a rumor that he has medicinal weed to share in his office.”

  I suck my teeth. “You are so full of shit.”

  As we approach the amphitheater, more students join us on the stone trail. Some glance over at us. I scored a small win, walking alongside Dom. This puts those sick rumors about Dad and me to rest. The more time Dom spends with me, the more it looks like he was acting the douche for being scorned. At Montlake, the students would have shamelessly gawked at us, but Redwood is low-key. People notice everything, but they play it off like it’s expected. A silver spaceman riding a blue hippo could trot across the main stage, and it would be considered uncool to point. In fact, if a kid does more than yawn, they’ll lose their cred.

  Principal Jagan stands on the stage in the amphitheater. It must have taken decades to create this space hidden down a path through the trees. The slate seats flow downward like a waterfall of cool stony grays and mossy greens. The effect is magical, as if it were in the woods and not man-made. Holding his hands up, Jagan smiles as we all find a seat. The dappled sunlight plays against his features as he inhales the mountain air. His shallow breathing is audible on the mic, and a few kids sit cross-legged, closing their eyes.

  “Feel that good prana, baby, filling your lungs,” Jagan inhales loudly. “As we congregate in nature, surrounded by the Earth’s love.”

  I glance over at Dom, and he rolls his eyes. I stifle a giggle and punch his side for being disrespectful. He takes my hand in his as he leans back against the stone seat. And I let him hold it. I don’t know how I feel about this. I’m not looking for a Mr. President yet. But before I can pull my hand away, he drops it as Silas and Chase sit behind us. I sit up straight, moving my body away from theirs.

  “Hey, Dom, switching sides?” asks Silas. “Or chasing tail?”

  Dom laughs and I ignore them.

  “Silas,” Chase says. “You might lose.”

  “Not to the queen of Jersey.”

  Chase laughs again. “Hey, ease up. Her dad’s only her third cousin.”

  I can’t ignore that. I grab my bag and stand up to leave.

  “Vicki?” Dom reaches for my shirt. “Sit back down.”

  Jagan stops his monologue to stare at me. I’d rather sit with these assholes than be called up on the stage. I sit down slowly, swearing I will take off as soon as I have the chance. I’m going to have to endure for a while and learn my lesson. The creepy thing is that their voices never rise above a whisper.

  “You can breathe that prana in from where you’re sitting,” laughs Chase.

  I turn and glare, and Chase clutches his chest. “It’s the Death Star from New Jersey.”

  “Aren’t you a little young to be making Star Wars jokes
?” I whisper.

  “It’s a very successful franchise,” replies Silas.

  “So is McDonald’s but I’m not hearing you loving it.” I put my purse down and sit with my back straight while the guys lean back casually like they’re posing for a sneak-snap.

  “Oh, that was nice, Vicki,” Dom smirks, shifting closer to me.

  “What are you doing hanging out with her anyway?” asks Silas. “Researching a part? How much imagination do you need to play a streetwalker?”