Bitter (A Dark High School Bully Romance)

The halls are getting darker as I continue to wander around, my hands tucked into the pocket of the huge hoodie I have pulled over my uniform now that classes are over for the day. I’ve got a few of these, all stolen from my brothers. If they were here one of them would probably do the injuring for me. I wouldn’t even have to pay them or anything.

I might not even have to ask.

Rafael is up in our dorm studying for some big test he has in one of the few classes we don’t share. If he saw me now, he’d probably have a mini-stroke. He hates my hoodies. He thinks they make it look like I’m trying too hard.

I think he just doesn’t like hoodies.

Doesn’t fit into the whole aesthetic he’s been trying to craft for me. The one thing I don’t mind is that he’s suggested I grow my hair out, just a bit. I’m looking forward to looking a little bit less like a wet rat all the time. A starved, jumpy rat that starts at every unexpected noise.

Yet another side-effect of being here at Bleakwood.

It’s one of these noises—a slamming locker that echoes too loudly down an empty hallway—that makes me stop for a minute to rest my head against the frame of a door. One hand clutches the middle of my chest, the other spreads to feel the texture of the wall beneath my fingertips.

All this talk of injury has primed my mind to see things that aren’t there.

For just a second, I swore I saw one of them. One of The Brotherhood.

After these last few weeks, you’d think I’d be used to them. You’d think I’d no longer be scared.

But that fear has grown inside me. Even though they’ve yet to do anything worse than shove me out of the lunch line, I know that isn’t where this is going to end. I know this is only the beginning. I saw it on their faces, that first day at the top of the stairs. There was a darkness in them. A hunger. And it’s there, still.

I see it every time I look one of them in the eye.

The feel of stone turns sharp beneath my fingers. My breath tightens a bit again, and I have to force it to slow down. Force myself to take a measured breath.

Another locker slams down the hall while I’m focusing on the wall in front of me, and it makes me jump again. My head snaps so quickly in the direction of the noise that my neck aches.

“Damn it,” I say to myself, through gritted teeth as one hand reaches up to massage the side of my neck. “Calm down, Alex. There’s no one there.”

I should have asked Rafael to come with me, but I couldn’t tell him I’m as worried about The Brotherhood as he’s been worried for me. I couldn’t give him the satisfaction. He might be my closest friend here—my only real friend, since he’s the only one I don’t have to outright lie to every moment of every day—but he’s not exactly the nurturing type. He might be helping me hide my true identity, but I wouldn’t put it past him to sell me out if he realized it would suit him better.

But I don’t need him. The Brotherhood is just a stupid fraternity. They’re just bullies. High school bullies who have it out for me, sure. But only bullies still.

And they aren’t even here. Why would they be, after all, when they should already be sneaking around with girls like Olive?

It’s with that thought that I finally feel my heartbeat slow and my mind clear.

But this newfound peace doesn’t last.

Because I was wrong. The Brotherhood is somewhere it doesn’t belong, and that place is here.

“Alex!”

Jasper’s voice pierces my head. My stomach drops and I freeze again. I want to turn around to search out the source of his voice, but before I can, both my arms are seized by the elbow and I’m hoisted a little off my feet.

There’s be no peace today. I should have known. I should have trusted my instincts.

Heath and Beck look down at me now, one on each side. I can’t wriggle out of their grasp. My feet hover a few inches off the floor as they start walking, taking me with them.

After a few steps, Jasper appears in front of me. He walks backwards so he can face me while leading his boys.

“Taking a little evening stroll?” It doesn’t faze him when I don’t answer. He grins at my confused expression. “We figured you could use a lift to the party.”

Heath and Beck chuckle. They smell a little of alcohol, which probably explains why they thought that terrible pun was anywhere near funny. They’ve started early.

“I wasn’t going to go to the party,” I say quietly, my feet swinging hopelessly beneath me.

Jasper’s grin widens. “Can’t have that. The Brotherhood requires your presence. Need to keep an eye on you, after all.”