A Deal With the Devil (Boys of Preston Prep 2)

Been there, done that.

Counseling was mandatory part of my rehabilitation at Mountain View, a long string of weekly confessions where we all spilled our guts and made feeble promises to Never. Do. It. Again.

But this is different, and I don’t just mean the black clothes, the kidnapping, and the candles lit for dramatic effect. I mean, I actually know these people—or knew them. I have to see them every day. They’re not a random group of boys sent away for badly committed crimes. It’s my best friend, the hot girl whose tits I want to motorboat, the guys I played Pee-Wee with, and fuck.

Maybe worst of all, it’s Vandy.

Am I really going to put her through listening to that shit?

I can tell from the expressions of everyone else in the room that they’re not so into this either, but I have to hand it to whoever’s pulling these strings. It makes sense. A secret society without the ‘secret’ is just a Friday free-period, with more steps. Knowing everyone’s skeletons is the perfect way to start. Mutually assured destruction.

“I’ll go first,” Emory says, handing Afton his phone. She flips it around and presses pause when he nods. His eyes flick to mine so briefly that most of the people here probably don’t catch it. To them, Emory probably looks assured, at best—indifferent, at worst. But that split-second look told me everything I needed to know.

He’s pants-shittingly nervous.

“I’m sure most of you know about what happened with that party two years ago. With the Adams girl and the Northridge kids? Or at least you’ve heard rumors.” He looks at Carlton and Ben, who nod. I’m assuming they were at the party. Emory’s hands twitch at his sides, like he wants to rub his palms over them, but knows he can’t. He’s got to be the big fearless leader.

He’s got to set an example.

“I participated in the blow job train on Skylar Adams.”

I’m the only one who remains still. Everyone else’s heads snap back on their shoulders, and it’s like the oxygen gets sucked out of the room with their collective inhales.

I chance a sidelong glance at Vandy.

About five shades paler, face slack, she looks fucking horrified.

Emory explains, “I was there with Campbell, but she went out back to smoke up with her friends. I heard what was going on in that bedroom and just had to see it myself. I figured those Northridge guys were bullshitting, but sure enough, there she was. On her knees, waiting for the next guy to come through the room. When she reached for my pants, I just…” Something in him cracks. He reaches up to rub at the back of his neck, the tips of his ears suddenly growing red. “I let her do it. I mean, free blowjob, right? What did I know?”

The room is so silent that when Vandy shifts, crossing her arms over her chest, it draws every eye to the sound.

Emory goes on, “When shit hit the fan, there was no way I could fess up. You guys know how it was. Hamilton was on the war path, our parents were furious, the administration was fed up. I’d already had enough strikes to toss my ass out of Preston, and I’m pretty sure Campbell would have castrated me. If I had admitted it, the whole club would have been kicked out of school. The only thing keeping us in school was the fact we had not participated.” He exhales and shrugs, obviously finished.

There’s a long pause, so I guess it’s someone else’s turn, but that was a lot to digest. I know instantly that Emory has set the tone here. That isn’t just some silly youthful indiscretion.

“I got pregnant Freshman year.” Aubrey says, taking all the weird, awkward heat off Emory. Afton shifts the camera to her, but Aubrey’s eyes are locked on Emory’s as she speaks. “Twice, actually. These older guys—these two seniors—they used to bring me to hang out with them on the weekends. I used to feel so cool, you know? Because I was hooking up with these two popular jocks. Kings of the school. But they never wanted to use anything, and…” She looks away, shifting uncomfortably. “Well, anyway. I got rid of it. Both times.” Her voice is bitter and cold when she adds, “They never even offered to help or sit with me, or…anything. It was like I was taking out their trash.”

Georgia mutters, “God, what pricks.”

And with that, Aubrey has augmented the whole game. This stuff doesn’t have to be illegal. It just has to really mess up your life, were it to get out.

“I’ll go next,” Elana says, and Afton shifts the camera to her. “On the Fourth of July, I went to this party down at Wisteria Dam. I had this epic American flag bikini and this sexy cover-up. I decided my mom’s diamond hoop earrings would look incredible with it—especially with my hair up, you know?” She looks to the other girls for confirmation and Elana nods. “Well, I knew she wouldn’t let me wear them. She can be a greedy bitch when it comes to her jewelry, so I borrowed them.” She rolls her eyes. “You know where this is going…I lost them in the lake. Joseph Miller was fucking around, dunking me and stuff—”

“Trying to get your top to fall off,” Aubrey mutters. “Been there.”

“Right?” Elana says. “Well, I hoped that my mom just wouldn’t notice—it’s not like she doesn’t have enough to wear. But nope, her eagle-eyes caught it immediately.” Her amused expression shifts, with jaw lifting and her arms crossing over her chest. “I thought for sure I was busted, which meant my trip to Costa Rica would totally be canceled, but I overheard my mother accusing our housekeeper of stealing the earrings. Marisol denied it, of course, and my mother had zero evidence, but it didn’t matter. She fired her and I never said a thing.”

Note to self, I think, as I reassess the girl with her dark hair and darker eyes. She’s small—tiny, really—but holy shit, she’s cut-throat. I’m not tangling with her.

There’s an awkward silence while we wait for the next victim, and I hope it’s Vandy, because one thing is becoming clear: The more awful bullshit that comes after yours, the better.

I’m about to open my mouth when Sebastian shifts in his seat, leaning forward. “So, I have this temper,” he starts.

Ben scoffs. “That’s not a secret.”

Sebastian’s dark eyes rise to his, tightening. “How about you shut the fuck up and not interrupt me.”

Ben glowers back. “How about you make—”