Immoral Confessions: A Dark High School Bully Romance Page 5

  Rory’s the only friend I have at St. Augustine and he’s amazing. He’s loyal, kind, and thankfully he likes guys so I don’t have to worry about there being any weird tension between us.

  Even though when I first saw him, I could have literally swooned at his feet. He looks like a modern day James Dean. Dark hair, eyes that remind you of melted chocolate, a strong, angular jaw, and his teeth are all perfectly straight and bright white. He’s beautiful. However, I knew from the second he opened his mouth that he was definitely not interested in me, but in the guy sitting next to me in European history. We fell into the easiest friendship of my life. I don’t have to try to be someone else whenever I’m with Rory. He accepts me for exactly who I am and, truth be told, gives me an air of confidence that doesn’t exist when he isn’t around.

  I hurry and wash my hair and body, then step out into the chill air. The floor-length mirror on the back of my door is fogged over, but I walk over and wipe it clean with a towel, before wrapping it tightly around myself. Glancing at myself in the still hazy mirror, I wish for a second that I was thinner, taller, had poutier lips. Higher cheekbones, a sharper nose. The perfect eyebrows.

  But, I know it’s my insecurities taking hold and it has everything to do with my stepmother.

  After drying off and throwing on a pair of sweats and an old shirt, I walk back out to my dorm to find Rory lying on my bed, watching Gossip Girl on my flatscreen. He gives me a small smile but is focused on the TV.

  “Oooh, is this part where Chuck gets shot? I swear, I never recovered,” I tell him and plop down beside him on my queen size bed. I cuddle up to his side and enjoy the few seconds of silence before I’m bombarded with questions.

  “So, what happened? Is it Mara? She is such a cunt, I swear. I’m so sick of her fucking with you.” He goes off on a tangent. His hate for her is as strong as mine. Not hard to do when she is horridly vile as she is.

  “It’s not Mara, shockingly. I haven’t seen her in a full twenty-four hours and let’s thank God. Twenty-four hours isn’t long enough.”

  I sigh.

  “So, then what actually happened?”

  I don’t say anything for a few moments, and it earns me a slap on the thigh.

  “Hello, are you on another planet tonight? Jesus, bitch.”

  “Can you not curse his name when we’re literally next door to a chapel,” I scoff and shove him back. “So… apparently Rhys Blackwood has decided I’m his latest play toy. He’s determined to torment me…”

  He gasps and sits up abruptly.

  “Excuse me, what? When did this happen? Wait, he knows who you are?” His eyebrows furrow in confusion.

  My gut twists in unease at telling him about my encounter with Rhys, because, by telling him, I’m going to have to leave out some of the truth, and I can’t stand the fact that I have to lie to my best friend.

  “Girl, you better spill. What in the hell is going on?”

  I let out a deep exhale before gathering my thoughts, “Last week, when I was studying late in the library, after midnight… Rhys and his friends broke into the library. Apparently, Sebastian was with some girl and left his phone on a shelf, and they had to get it. I overheard… something I wasn’t supposed to. Something bad that could get them into trouble, and now he hates me.”

  “Okay, but why?” he asks, and my stomach churns.

  “It’s just some stupid prank, but he accused me of snitching on him—which I didn’t. I haven’t said anything to anyone, until you right now.”

  “So, let me get this straight, he hates you because he thinks you tattled on him?”

  He rolls his eyes dramatically, “First of all, what are we, five? Who gives a shit what he and his self-righteous, pretentious asshole friends are doing? I don’t know why everyone is so obsessed with him. They act like he’s a god, but he’s just a regular guy with a few tattoos and a bad attitude. Gross.” He scrunches his nose in distaste. “What did he do?”

  Well, I wouldn’t say that, but… He’s got the bad attitude part right.

  “Just cornering me when I’m alone, scaring me, making me uncomfortable. I don’t care what they’re doing, but now he’s got some agenda about making my life a living hell and I just want him to go back to not knowing I exist. Unlike most of the girls here, I actually like to be the wallflower. I don’t want to be on his radar, or even someone who crosses his mind, but here we are. Don’t even get me started about what happened in English lit today. I got detention, Rory. Me. Detention. The first infraction I’ve ever had. Literally, like, ever.”

  I groan, remembering when I wake up tomorrow, I still have to face all of those people again, only now they know exactly how I like to read about multiple partners and their huge cocks.

  Great.

  Having an infraction on my record doesn’t seem as bad in comparison to that thought.

  “What happened?” His eyes widen.

  “So, you know how you recommended C.L. Matthews’s new book? Here Lives a Corpse?”

  He nods and gives me a dreamy smile. “Ugh, yes. Obsessed. We stan for a dark queen. She’s seriously my fave.”

  “Well, I started it last night and I have been dying to read more, so I got my iPad out since I got to English lit early and started to read. He came in… stole my iPad, and read it out loud to the entire class. It just so happened to be a scene with both guys. Both. Guys.”

  “Oh my God. No!”

  “Yes! It was the most embarrassing, uncomfortable moment of my life. I wanted to kill him with my bare hands.” I drop my face into my hands and let out a groan, then look at him again. “I mean, how am I ever supposed to show my face in class again? I look like a slut!”

  “Uh, you do realize Mara and her posse of fake bitches actually have sex with multiple guys at once, right? They don’t just read about it.” He laughs out loud, throwing his head back. “Girl, what these people think of you should be the last thing you worry about. You know they are on a power trip based on money and their last names. Keep your head down and you’ll be on your way to Harvard before you know it.”

  I pull him to me in a tight hug and let it linger for a few minutes, feeling the comfort from my friend after everything I’ve gone through today. My brain and emotions are completely overloaded. On top of everything, I feel guilty for keeping things from him, but I just want him as detached from this situation as possible. I’m protecting him. Or at least that’s what I keep telling myself.

  “Thanks, Ror. I love you. Now, can we binge Gossip Girl and eat ice cream? I need it.”

  He nods, then gets up and walks to the mini fridge-freezer to grab the container and two spoons from the counter. For the rest of the night, I push Rhys out of my head and focus on the now.

  The next morning, I’m tempted to play hooky just so I don’t have to face anyone after yesterday’s events, but I know hiding won’t do anything but make it worse. So, I spend extra time putting makeup on this morning, and put a few curls in my hair. I take my time this morning because I know all eyes will be on me throughout the day, and the least I can do is make myself look presentable if I’m going to be the most talked about girl in school.

  I finish my routine, grab my books, and head out the door, although I'm still thirty minutes early. I make it to my first class and spend the first fifteen minutes sitting at the desk, fidgeting, waiting until the first person walks through the door. When she enters and does nothing but glances casually my way for a brief moment, I let out an exhale of relief. Maybe people have already forgotten what happened. I dread having to see Rhys, especially now since my entire Latin grade is at stake, which means Harvard is as well. Great. The remainder of my morning classes go on uneventfully, and I let my guard down some, allowing myself to feel relief that maybe yesterday is going to be replaced by something more scandalous which will pull everyone’s attention off me.

  That is until I visit my locker for the first time of the day. The second I open it, shiny gold foil packets fall out in a wave
. Hundreds, if not thousands, of what I realize are condoms fall out at my feet.

  “Magnum” they read.

  Oh, God, no.

  Laughter erupts around me and people pull out their phones, snapping pictures for Snapchat. I bite my lip to hold back the tears welling in my eyes. I can’t let them spill over. I won’t.

  The entire school must be here witnessing another moment of pure torture.

  I scoop out the rest of the packets, and there’s a piece of paper at the bottom of my locker. I pick it up and see the messy, slated scrawl written in dark red ink.

  “For all the dicks you’ll be taking. For both holes.”

  God, this fucking asshole. I ball the paper up and throw it back into my locker, and slam it shut with all of my might. I swear, I’m going to castrate him. Stepping over the condoms, I push through the crowd of people who are now surrounding me, and head straight for the admin office.

  When I make it to the building, Sister Mary Margaret is at the front desk, and she greets me with a smile.

  “Hi, Valentina, how are you this morning?”

  “Oh, hi, Sister Mary Margaret. I’m great, thank you so much for asking. I was wondering if you could help me with something; I have a small favor.” I give her a beaming smile, silently saying a prayer for her to willing help me.

  “Of course, what can I do?”

  I lean in closer, glancing around to make sure there isn’t anyone listening, and I whisper, “So, I am partnered with Rhys Blackwood for our English literature thesis and I truthfully forgot to give him some notes I had taken last night for it. I was wondering if maybe you could give me his schedule? Just so I can, you know, go drop them off to him. Or even his dorm. I can just run it by really quickly before my calculus class. I know you’re not technically supposed to do it, but I was hoping, for me, you’d be able to.”

  I give her another smile. I’m hoping the work I have done during my free period here in the admin office as well as the library, plus my perfect record, gives me some sort of one-up in the situation.

  She eyes me for a few moments and whispers, “Oh, Valentina, I’m really not supposed to.”

  “I know, and I’m so sorry to have to ask, I just really need to get him these papers before our English period. I don’t want him to get into any trouble.”

  “Okay, but please don’t tell anyone. I would be the one to get into trouble.”

  She turns and walks back into the office behind her. A few moments later, she returns with a sheet of paper in hand.

  “Here you go,” she whispers, her eyes darting around the office.

  “Thank you so much, Sister Mary Margaret, I will be sure to get this right over to Rhys. I appreciate your help,” I whisper quietly, then grab the sheet, and dash out of the office before she can change her mind.

  Last block, advanced calculus?

  What?

  Rhys Blackwood is in an AP-level course. I skim the rest of his schedule and I see every single class he’s taking is an AP course. With his recent torment, I forget he’s actually smart, and he’s the one who I’m competing with for the top spot in our year. Given his lack of human decency, it tends to slip my mind. Haphazardly, I fold the schedule and shove it into the pocket of my cardigan, then head directly to the math hall, hoping I can confront him before his next class. The bell rings when I’m halfway there, and I curse inwardly.

  Dammit.

  This is my free period, so I’m not late, thankfully, but I have so much studying I should be doing instead of having to tell Rhys Blackwood to screw off.

  I make it to the math hall and dart inside, but the halls are eerily quiet since class has already begun. I’m halfway down the hall, when I feel the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. A sense of foreboding seeps itself inside of me. Whipping around, I’m face to face with Rhys, and he grins menacingly.

  “Looking for me, I presume?”

  I stalk over to where he stands until my toes hit the front of his, until he’s so close I can smell the faint trace of cologne and… him. Cedar-like and woodsy, with a hint of smoke. I hate it and I hate him. I hate the way it makes me clench in places that have no business being involved.

  “Were you looking for me?” I ask him. It takes everything I have not to hurl myself at him.

  He laughs, the cold sound echoing throughout the deserted hallway. “Why would I be looking for you, Valentina? Nothing about you is memorable. What could someone like me need from someone like you?”

  Asshole. My teeth grind together as I try not to lose my shit. I swallow down the lump of anger as it fills my throat.

  “Because you knew after you filled my locker with those… things, I’d come looking for you, and that’s what you wanted. Once again, I played right into your bullshit game.”

  His face shows nothing, like a joker never revealing his hand of cards.

  “I think you’re a little obsessed with me. You keep showing up everywhere I am, and if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were stalking me.” He steps closer until our chests are pressed together. My entire body recoils from his touch.

  “Get over yourself, asshole. I’ve had enough of this shit.”

  “It’s a good thing I don’t give a fuck about what you have to say, Valentina.” His gaze turns deadly. Like if he could, he’d really kill me, right here, in this very spot without batting an eye.

  “Look, I know you think I ratted you and your frat boy posse out, or whatever it is you think I’ve done… I haven’t. Just leave me alone, go back to pretending people like me don’t exist,” I plead in a weak moment.

  “Oh, but it’s so much fun pretending you do exist. But we both know when it’s all said and done, you’re nothing. Valentina Carmichael fades into the background. Nothing extraordinary or worth remembering.” He fingers a piece of my hair that’s loose near my face and twirls it around his finger, then tugs, pulling me even closer.

  “Don't touch me." I reach to slap his hand away, but he captures my wrist mid-slap. The large, callous feel of his palm circles my wrist easily and he yanks me against his chest. His touch feels like I’ve been burned and I hate it. I’m disgusted he feels like he can touch me without my consent.

  "You forget who the fuck you are, little lamb," he murmurs coldly, running a lone finger along my jawline, making me shiver against the warm, hard part of his body I'm pressed against. I hate him. I hate him more than I've ever hated anyone. I hate how he has a power over my body he doesn't deserve. I hate that it takes one touch and I lose my rational thoughts and the will to fight back.

  “I do whatever I want to you, whenever I want, and you keep your mouth shut. What you should’ve done in the first place. Whine about it as much as you want, doesn’t change the fact that I’m going to fucking ruin you, Valentina.”

  With that, he spins me around with ease and slams me into the lockers behind me. The coldness of the metal bites into my face when his hand finds my neck, thrusting me into it. His lips dip close to my ear and he whispers, “Keep running that mouth, little lamb, and I’m going to fill it with my cock. Then let's see how much you have to say.” My heart begins to race in my chest when his hands caress my back roughly, until he reaches my ass.

  His hand comes down so hard, so quick against my ass cheek, it causes me to cry out. The sensation immediately stings and makes me shiver all at once. I feel the heat in my skin where his hand just was.

  Have I mentioned how much I despise him?

  “You should work on the looking desperate thing… it’s an even worse look on you than the innocent act you pull.”

  Before I can even think of a comeback, he lets go and leaves me standing alone in the hallway with my mouth agape, my ass tender and likely red, hating him even more than I did before I sought him out. I’m already sick of this cat and mouse game he’s playing, and I have a feeling it’s only just begun.

  “Rhys, power’s out. Everything’s down from the storm,” Rowan says as he walks back into the common room, ou
t of the raging storm.

  The rain pounds against the side of our common room as the wind whips outside so strongly, the door shakes on its hinges. By the looks of it, it won’t be letting up any time soon.

  “All right. Go to the church, get as many candles as you can without anyone noticing,” I tell him, and he nods, pulling his hood back over his head and walks out without another word.

  “We're gonna party in this storm?” This time it’s Sebastian who speaks. He’s sitting on the other side of the room, more quiet than usual, while he tosses a football up in the air. He’s been moody for the past few days, and I haven’t had the chance to ask him what’s going on. I’ve been trying to get in touch with Ezra’s dad to try and get him out of fucking jail, and it seems like all he gives a shit about is teaching him a lesson, even though he’d rather the Kennedy last name not be dragged through the mud. It seems like his penchant to see his son suffer outweighs everyone else’s opinion.

  Fuck, it’s all these people care about. What their last name can afford them. Money, fame, power. It’s all a fucking game, and one I wasn’t ever going to participate in. My life is a far cry from the silver spoon-fed kids in this school, and it’s part of the reason I’ve never tried to fit their mold.

  “Not much different than any other night,” I say.

  My head has been fucked-up trying to figure the shit out with Ezra, coupled with the fact that Valentina Carmichael is walking around with loose lips while she holds the rest of our futures in her hands.

  “You get Carmichael’s friend to come tonight?” I look over at Alec who’s playing Xbox.

  “He said he’d be there. Didn’t talk to him any longer than you forced me to.”

  Instead of replying, I chuck a cup at him and it hits him in the back of the head, hard.

  “Fuck! Asshole.” He groans, but never takes his eyes off the massive flatscreen.

  “You sure you know what you’re doing?” Sebastian asks.

  “Yeah, Rhys, you know what you’re doing? Fucking with the virgin of St. Augustine, she’s holier-than-thou,” Alec chimes in.