One-Eighty (Westover Prep 1)

I understand the threat immediately. They will easily treat Peyton the same way they’ve treated me, and I don’t wish that on anyone.

“It’s fine,” I tell Peyton.

My back is still to the jerks as I finish Preston’s sandwich. When I turn off the stove, I let myself imagine slapping Bronwyn in the face with the hot skillet, but violence doesn’t seem like the answer. She’d only be viler if I hurt her.

“Why are you even here?” Vaughn asks, and I can tell he’s moved closer to me. “Are you trying to weasel your way into Dalton’s life? He may have forgotten who you are, but none of us have.”

Bronwyn and Kyle both express their agreements with a series of grunts.

“Are you so desperate for his attention that you come over and make him lunch?” Bronwyn adds.

“Say something,” Peyton urges from my side. “They only do it because you don’t stand up for yourself.”

I want to tell her how wrong she is, but she doesn’t know about the time I shoved Bronwyn into the lockers in second grade when she pulled my hair while in line waiting for the bathroom. Even seven-year-old Bronwyn was a spiteful little girl. She retaliated that time by cutting off my ponytail at a sleepover we both attended later that month. I was in tears when my mom showed up to get me, but even then, I didn’t tell her what had really happened. I’ve spent my entire life hiding the truth and my pain from my parents.

“That’s it,” Bronwyn snaps. “You just put yourself on the list, little Dalton. I hope you’re happy right now because once school starts, you’ll wish you never defended her.”

I see red. They’ve been picking on me for years, but threatening Peyton is going too far. None of them seem surprised when I spin around to face them. Angry tears are already rushing down my cheeks, and I hate that I cry when I get mad. I’m usually able to save the tears for home, but today it’s just all too much.

“You’ll leave her alone,” I hiss.

“You won’t have any friends,” Bronwyn continues as if I’m not standing here with steam erupting from my ears. “Even the girls you hang out with now will turn on you for a chance to be in our crowd. You won’t have any more true friends.”

“True friends?” I snap. “Is that what you consider you assholes?”

I point at each of the three tormentors standing in front of me. I focus on Kyle.

“Were you Dalton’s true friend when you slept with his girlfriend at that party?” Kyle sneers in my direction, the ugly snarl only worsening the evil look in his eyes. I ignore it. “And you, Bronwyn. Does being a true friend mean that it’s okay to spend your time performing oral on one guy while the other has sex with you?”

Peyton gasps.

“Oral?” Bronwyn says with a chuckle. “Sex with me?”

“It’s like she’s eleven or something,” Vaughn says. “Good thing you told me not to try to sext with her. She would’ve known something was up then.”

“First off,” Bronwyn hitches her thumb to indicate Vaughn, “I was sucking his dick while this one fucked me—hard.”

Bile fills my throat at her words, the memories of that night coming back in full color, but what irritates me most of all is her talking about this stuff in front of Peyton. Not only is she young, but Dalton is her brother. Some things just shouldn’t be shared with a sibling, but I guess I’m the one who brought it up, so this is just another mistake I can own.

“Why don’t you fill me in on what happened at the party?”

Bronwyn, Vaughn, and Kyle spin around so fast to face Dalton, I’m surprised that they don’t fall over.

Standing in the doorway of the kitchen with his arms crossed over his shirtless chest, he doesn’t look very impressed with what he just walked in on.Chapter 15Dalton“What. About. The. Party?” I repeat when my so-called friends turn around to look at me.

Shock fills their faces at the sight of me, and I can tell that all of them are worried about what I might’ve overheard before I made my presence known. I heard enough that I’m annoyed that I didn’t cancel this damn pool party like I wanted to a million times this week.

“Oh, that’s right,” Piper says, and even when she’s being mean to me, I’ve never heard her sound as spiteful and vindictive as she does right now. It’s possible she hates these three people more than she hates me, and that’s saying a lot because the girl can barely stand the sight of me. “You don’t remember. Let me tell you exactly what happened at the party.”

“Don’t,” Bronwyn hisses, and I can tell she isn’t the nice girl that’s spent most of the day trying to convince me that she’s my girlfriend.