Bitter (A Dark High School Bully Romance)

“Lacrosse,” Beck says with a tone of finality. “It’ll be real fun to have him on the team.”

“That it will,” Jasper replies with relish. He looks down at me, and I try to shrink away. His fingers dig painfully into my shoulder. “And it’ll be nice and easy to keep an eye on you that way.”

“Oh, don’t worry if you don’t know how to play,” Heath pipes up from behind me. “We’ll be there to teach you a lesson or two.”

They all laugh heartily as I’m shepherded to the lacrosse desk. The boy—or man, everyone here looks so much older than I do—behind it pushes a sign-up sheet at me, and Jasper pushes me toward the table.

I give him a pleading look as I bend over the paper and take up a pen, but the attendant avoids my gaze. I scribble my name down. Jasper grabs me as soon as I’m done and yanks me out of the way so Heath can step up to the desk next.

“Welcome to the team, Alex,” Beck says with a somewhat manic grin.

Jasper laughs and pushes me away from him. I scurry out of the room as fast as my legs can carry me, my heart hammering away in my chest.

Whatever Rafael wanted me to do, that wasn’t it.

I should be staying away from The Brotherhood. I should be carefully plotting and planning a schedule to avoid them as much as possible. But instead, I’ve somehow gone and made sure I’m even more entangled with them.

As dangerous as this game is that I’ve begun to play, something in the middle of my chest flutters for a moment. Fear. Anxiety.

Excitement.

“Stop it, Alex,” I hiss to myself, shutting my eyes and shaking my head as a barrel through another doorway, “stop being such an idiot.”

An idiot, it seems, who’s determined to make an ass out of herself too.

“Oh!”

Another voice, shrill and female, cries out as I collide with someone on the other side of the door.

The force isn’t enough to send me sprawling, but that doesn’t stop me from flailing wildly until my hands find something to hold on to.

Something that, unfortunately, seems to be another girl’s boobs.

I freeze, my arms outstretched as I stare in shock, first at where my hands have come to rest, and then up into the face of the girl I’m practically assaulting. I pull my hands away a fraction of a second later, but the damage is already done.

Shit. Shit, shit, shit!

And I thought I was going to get expelled before.

It takes me a second to dare lift my eyes to meet the girl’s in front of me. I half expect, half hope, for a professor … the whole debacle somehow seems more forgivable that way … but instead I find another student.

A student close to my age, in fact, with long, flowing blonde hair cascading down her bare shoulders in ringlets, and full lips painted dark red. I don’t know how she’s handling the cold in her sleeveless blouse and pleated skirt. In fact, I’m wondering how the top managed to stay up at all the way I was grabbing at it.

Behind her stand two similarly dressed girls, both staring gob-smacked in my direction.

I open my mouth, ready to profusely apologize, when I realize the girl in front of me doesn’t look angry. She looks … amused. A faint blush rises in her cheeks, and a shy smile pulls at the corner of her lips.

Am I imagining things, or did she just wink at me?

“Well hello,” the blonde girl says, helping me to my feet, since I stumbled when I smacked into her. “Normally I’d ask you to take me to dinner first, but I kind of like a forward guy.”

I stare at her wide-eyed, still unable to form words. Behind her, her friends have relaxed a bit now that they’ve realized a harassment charge isn’t about to be filed. The girl in front of me widens her eyes a bit, looking up at me through dark lashes she’s batting like something’s gotten stuck in her eyeball.

“I know most of the boys here already … but I don’t know you.”

I blink up at her, suddenly shaking. Can she tell? Can she recognize a fellow girl? Is that what this is?

She slips a finger beneath my chin and tips it up. I’m a little shorter than her, but she’s also wearing four-inch heels. My feet ache just looking at them.