Boys of Brayshaw High (Brayshaw High 1)

“About?”

“Don’t play stupid.”

“Don’t be a little bitch. Ask what you wanna know.”

Captain’s brows jump slightly, but Maddoc’s only narrow more. He looks over my shoulder at Royce.

Royce shifts behind me so I snap, “Put your hands on me right now, Royce, and get your balls bruised.”

Maddoc’s jaw clenches and he growls, stepping closer, but I don’t back down or cower, and after what feels like forever, he backs up, spins around and storms out of the cabin. Captain follows.

“We ... brought you here,” Royce trials off so I turn to face him. I’d swear I see worry in his eyes if I didn’t know any better. “Don’t make us regret it, Rae.”

Rae.

Not Raven.

Not RaeRae.

Rae.

He walks out and suddenly I’m disappointed. But it makes no sense, because the acid on my tongue was poured by my own damn self and a direct hit, right at me.

And it pisses me off.

How could these boys bring me from fuming at them to mad at myself, and two of them with nothing but a look? And I don’t even like that stupid nickname!

I drop my back against the wall and close my eyes.

Taking a deep breath, I allow myself a few rare seconds of uncertainty, and then I force all thoughts from my head and when my eyes open, I’m good. Ready to party.

I’m getting fucked up.They’re fucked up.

Each fucking one, completely fucking wasted.

Royce has some brunette chick on his lap and another standing at his back, running her hands down his chest over his shirt while his tongue plays connect the dots with the freckles on the lap girl’s chest.

Captain has the bride of Chuckie chick grinding against his dick as they dance under the stupid Christmas lights – he glares my way every few minutes like his fucking with her is somehow sticking it to me. He’ll sure as shit be sticking it to her later.

Good for her, I guess. And he deserves all her crazy after if he wants to act like a dumbass.

And Maddoc. He hasn’t glanced my way once.

Not that I’ve been waiting but still. Hasn’t happened yet.

He’s busy, though.

I haven’t seen Chloe yet, but that is one of her minions with her paws all over him.

He drops on the edge of a wooden picnic table and she stands between his legs, her hand down his pants right there for anyone to see.

Sure, they’re tucked away a little, a dark shadow cast over their table, but there are still people all around. At least fifty or sixty more than last night are scattered all around between the dozen or so cabins.

“Trade?”

I look over and Leo who collects my empty bottle, popping the top of a new one with his lighter.

“Thanks.”

“Yup.”

When he stands there and stares, I drop my legs from the chair. “What?”

“Boys are pissed.”

“When are they not?”

He grabs a chair and drags it over, sitting in front of me.

“That was stupid, you going to the Graven side.”

“I’d have had to have known there was a Graven side to know to stay away from it, right?”

He nods. “Right. But let’s say you did. Would you have stayed away from it?”

“What do you think?”

“I don’t know you.”

“Yet here you are, an opinion sitting on the edge of your tongue.”

He glares. “Fair enough.”

I scoff, glancing away but look back. “If schools don’t mix, why the hell are they here?”

“Nobody was willing to give this place up.”

“What do you mean?”

“A good forty or fifty years back, Brayshaw was the only high school in this town. All the families were tight, so they started buying these cabins. Eventually it became the party place for the kids – just another place for rich kids to run off to. But when the town divided, they built Graven Prep. Pulled half the students over there, which meant down the line –”

“They were forced to share this place.”

He shrugs. “Either way, tradition remains the same and all teenagers end up here. As long as they stick to their own and us ours, all’s good.”

“Right.” I nod, looking off.

I bring my beer to my lips, taking a long drink, but freeze when I hear a deep groan to my right.

I glance over to find Maddoc’s head falling back as the girl jacks him off. His head rolls to the side and his hazy eyes open just barely, but when they do, they hit mine.

And with his eyes on me, he sets his drink down against the table top. It falls over he’s so drunk, the beer running over the edge of the old wood but he ignores it.

His hands lift to the girl’s shoulders.

He is not...

He does.

He pushes the girl to her knees, and she happily obliges. She bends and then her head starts bobbing in his lap.

He moans again, and this time his head tips back completely.

“Damn, he’s fucked up.”