Good Girls Never Rise: A Dark Boarding School Romance

And with that, I turned around and walked out of the library, feeling the smallest amount of relief settle in.

Leaning back onto my stool during art class, I continued to gaze at Gemma. We’d missed each other this morning during breakfast, so I wasn’t able to let her know that everything was a go for tutoring this evening. She, Sloane, and Mercedes had skipped out for some reason, and I couldn’t help but think that reason was me. After all, Gemma would barely even look at me from across the room now.

That really didn't sit well with me. How the hell was she going to spend the evenings tutoring me if she couldn’t even look at me from across the room? She needed to loosen up some. She was always so…serious. Cautious, too.

“Better fix that hard-on before the bell rings,” Brantley laughed from beside me.

I snapped my attention down to my pants before rolling my eyes, knowing damn well I just fucking fell for his stupid joke. His chest shook as he busted up with laughter, and Cade joined in with him.

“Fuck off and quit thinking about my dick,” I snapped, bringing my attention back to Gemma. She was sitting on her stool, looking like a poised schoolgirl with her spine straight and shoulders pulled back. Her hair was in one long braid that I imagined wrapping around my fist as I fucked her. Fuck. Wait. That took an abrupt turn.

I shifted on the stool again, taking my eyes off the soft skin of her legs peeking out from below her plaid skirt. I was already imagining myself kissing her breathless, which I absolutely could not do. It would be a huge mistake. I’d end up fucking her one way or another, because there was no way you could kiss a girl like that without wanting more, and then things would get messy between us. She was definitely the type of girl to let her feelings get involved, and that just couldn’t happen—not with someone like me, at least. Plus, I couldn’t have my cover-slash-tutor hating me and backing out on our deal now, could I? I was much smarter than that. Mixing business with pleasure was never a good idea. But damn, I hadn’t screwed around with anyone since Ms. Glenburg, and I didn’t even get to finish.

Cade began pulling on his backpack, even though the bell hadn't rung yet, while Brantley slipped his backwards baseball hat onto the top of his head, knowing very well Mrs. Fitz would scold him to take it off until he was out of her class. “Have we seen Bain anywhere today? How’s he lookin’?”

My gaze snapped to Cade as my blood pulsed. “What do you mean, ‘how’s he looking?’”

Cade’s eyes widened as he shot a panicked look to Brantley. “Apparently, you haven’t seen the latest blog post.”

r /> That stupid fucking blog.

Clenching my jaw, I placed my feet from the stool back onto the ground, glancing to Gemma once before looking sternly into Cade’s oh-shit expression. “Explain.”

Cade looked about as uncomfortable as Mrs. Dunes today when the SMC had brought up me seducing Ms. Glenburg. Brantley rubbed his forehead roughly with his free hand. The bell rang, and I slapped my hand down onto the table. “Get on with it!”

“Shiner didn’t listen to you. You know how pissed he was that the party got shut down…” That could only mean one thing.

“And you’re just now telling me this?” My voice shook with unshed anger, and it killed me to keep it low. Gemma was seconds from rushing out the door, still keeping her attention away from me, which I found to be irritating, but thankfully, at the last second, Mrs. Fitz placed a hand on her arm and began talking to her with a glitter of awe in her eye.

I shot up out of my seat and gripped my backpack forcefully. I glared at Cade and Brantley before turning back to get my eyes on Gemma. “Tell Shiner he is on my fucking shitlist. I specifically told him to drop it.” I was silently cursing myself for not taking a closer look at Bain this morning, too.

Cade mumbled under his breath as I began walking past. “Maybe it’s time we clued him in, bro. He wouldn’t have done it if he knew…”

I cut him another glare, and he threw his hands up innocently. “It was just a suggestion.” Then, he nodded to the door where Gemma was standing. “Just FYI, the article said a Rebel—unnamed, of course—attacked Bain, fighting on Gemma’s behalf because of what he’d pulled with her on Saturday. Probably why she’s avoiding you.”

Great. “I want that shit taken down now.”

“We’ll get it taken care of,” Brantley urged. “We thought you already knew and had talked with Shiner.”

I grimaced. “Well, I didn’t, and now things are about to get messy.”

Chapter Twenty-Four

Gemma

Watchful eyes followed my every move. They trailed me as I walked down the hallway, as I washed my hands in the girls’ restroom, even as I sat in the back of World History, listening to a lecture on the Seven Seas. Everyone was mumbling under their breath and whispering about the blog post that I was featured on—again—so by the time I rounded the corner to art, I was ready to crumble.

My stomach was already filled with nerves, and the thought of being in class with Isaiah, who I hadn’t seen since our linen-closet meeting Saturday evening, truly made me want to vomit all over the place. Did he attack Bain? Was it all a rumor? I wasn’t sure, and neither was Sloane or Mercedes. The three of us huddled over Sloane’s phone this morning while eating granola bars for breakfast as we read the blog post, mortification swallowing me up whole, not even bothering to spit out my bones afterwards.

On shaky legs, I gripped my sketchbook tightly to my chest, relying on the fact that I was about to be in my favorite class of all to get me through the rest of the day. I purposely left my crappy cell phone in my room, already too keyed up over everything to be bothered with the fact that I still had Richard’s threats echoing in the back of my mind.

I shuddered at the thought of Uncle Richard flashing across the screen with an incoming call but then froze when a hand reached out from a hidden corner at the end of the hall. I was pulled through as a light shriek clamored out of my mouth. My first thought was that it was Isaiah, because it’d been twice now that he’d shoved me into a small space to talk, but when my eyes adjusted to the dark crook blanketed in cobwebs, I froze.

Bain. It was the first time I’d been up close and personal with him—well…besides Saturday night.

“What are you doing?” I asked, keeping my voice steady, even though my heart currently had wings and was flying right out of my chest. “Coming to claim me against my will again?” I mentally smacked myself for not keeping my mouth shut. What was going on with me?

Bain’s left eye was pretty swollen, and if the lighting were better, I was certain I would be able to make out the ashy-colored bruises. His dark eyes were stern, and for a second, I swore I saw his pupils dilate. “I have a little message for you, Good Girl.”