Boys of Brayshaw High (Brayshaw High 1)
“You’ll what?” I cut her off, leaning forward just the same. “What are you gonna do?”
“You better watch it, Rae.” Her lip curls. “You can’t walk around here like you run shit. There’s an order you need to follow.”
“That’s your problem, Victoria. You want so bad to fit somewhere when you don’t. None of us do. Not in this world. We have to wait for our time, create our own fucking life after we let go of everything in the one we were forced into. Stop trying to blend in and maybe you won’t be such a stiff bitch.”
“Don’t pretend you know me, whore.”
Juvenile.
When I roll my eyes and plop back against the seat, she spins around in hers.
I look to Nira who’s frowning, then Vienna. Her eyes are narrowed, but she fights a grin.
I turn to look out of the tiny back side window.
Typical fucking night, I guess.“Skank,” someone mumbles as they pass behind me and I slam my locker shut, spinning to see who it is this time, but there are too many people walking by to know for sure.
All fucking day this has been happening.
I mean, I’m used to it – comes with the territory when your mom’s been the thorn in more marriages than not.
But this is different.
These people seem to think I’ve become a plaything. Word around campus is I’m fucking their king. And his brothers.
Doesn’t help that every time one of them walks by, they say something along the lines of “be at my house earlier tonight” or “next time bring more than three condoms.”
I snap back, but it only heightens the flame.
I shoved the first few who started in this morning, but it quickly became every other person who passed, and I got tired of talking.
“You’re the first Bray girl without a trust fund.”
I lift my head to Vienna with a scowl. “I’m not a fucking ‘Bray’ anything.”
She laughs lightly. “Try telling the put out uptown girls that.”
I shake my head and look back to my paper.
“You know they’re all acting stupid because they’re jealous right?” she whispers, dropping into the free seat at my table.
We have study hall together – where those of us who need to make up credits spend our elective period.
“They’ve either fucked Royce and Captain and not Maddoc or vice versa and are pissed you’ve had all three. Or they haven’t had their shot yet and now you’re another body in the way of the prize.”
“Brothers known to share? Twisted shit.”
She leans it, scanning the room before speaking, “They’re not blood brothers. It’s not a secret or anything, but you didn’t hear that from me. And don’t even mention it. But that’s totally irrelevant right now.” She smiles, but little does she know she’s colored me curious. “So, Royce and Captain share. Maddoc doesn’t. He picks one and fucks them ‘til he’s bored or ditches them if they fuck someone else and then picks another.”
“So he keeps a girlfriend?”
She scoffs. “Uh, no. Not girlfriends. Just fuck buddies with rules. And never PDA. You only know ‘cause they trail him everywhere he goes or you’ll hear him tell her when and where, things like that. But again, he doesn’t pass his between the others while he’s indulging, and if they try to jump ship, they’re kicked to the curb by all three and basically hit nomad status. Nobody in the in crowd will get at ‘em after the Brays release them.”
“Pretty sure all that’s worse than if they were already known to share.”
“It is.”
“Well, I’m over this shit. It has to have something to do with the party Saturday.” I turn to look at her. “Which means they started the fucking rumor themselves.”
Her jaw drops open, her mouth morphing into a smile just as quick. “They want people to think you’re fucking them!”
“Ladies!” The teacher lowers her glasses down her face, glaring at the two of us. “Get to work.”
We glance at each other, both laughing lightly before turning back to our papers.
So, they want people to think I’m merry-go-rounding, fine. Like I said, nothing new – assholes claim they’ve screwed me all the time. Somehow, my turning down guys gives them a complex, like how dare I, the dirty girl I am, deny them. It always turns into a story of how easy it was to get me on my back.
This time though, at this place with these guys, it’ll bring even more problems to my feet, just like they want, but I don’t roll over for anyone.
They think all the threats and so-called bullying will set me straight then they’ve got another thing coming.
Everyone already thinks me a slut, but I can twist this on them by not pushing back, like they must want.
They wanna play, we’ll play.When lunch rolls around I’m on my own – the group home girls don’t owe me shit and technically we aren’t friends, so I get they don’t want to be guilty by association, so to speak. And unfortunately, that’s how high school works. You are who you hang with.