Reckless Hate: A Bully High School Romance (enemies-friends-enemies-lovers-enemies) (Westbrook Blues Book 1) Page 11

  “Oh my, you must be Astraea Fields.” She says with a gasp. That’s an odd reaction to have.

  I just nod in affirmation, not sure what to make of her gasp or the weird look she is giving me now.

  “Oh dear, I’m so sorry about your brother.” She says with obvious empathy and I nod my head again, unable to say anything else as my throat is suddenly chocked up.

  “And to think he was just in here last year, that was the last time I saw him.” She says with remembered sadness in her eyes. “All he wanted were the transfer papers but he never collected them.”

  Wait what?

  “I’m sorry. Did you just say transfer papers?” I question, as she starts typing something on her computer.

  “Yes that’s right. He mentioned that he was going to join his sister for senior year of high school.” She explains as she prints out some papers on high quality paper and then hands me a folder with the W.B.H emblem on it.

  “In there is your schedule, the classrooms and the list of teachers. There is also a set of default combinations that you will have to reset to your desired combination for your locker.” She quickly explains but my brain is still stuck on the transfer papers.

  “Wait, when exactly did he request for transfer papers?” I question.

  “Well right before school let out for summer, if I remember correctly. He was rather very sullen and missed you terribly.” She explains.

  He was sullen? George never mentioned anything about wanting to transfer schools to me. As a matter of fact, he wasn’t talking to me much at all by the time summer started.

  What does this all mean?

  I’m about to ask her something else but another student walks in at that very moment. I can’t help but notice the way she walks, or rather, strides across the office like she is on a runway. But what’s shocking is, she has on the same shoes and socks combo I’m rocking—and she isn’t trying to be so damn appealing. Her step very confident, head thrown back with an ease that you can’t fake.

  This girl knows exactly who she is and she isn’t scared of anyone. She has jet black hair and stormy grey eyes that immediately take me in, as if scanning for faults to exploit if I ever step wrong to her. I stare right back at her, getting on the defensive. I’m looking for trouble but if he wants a go at me, I can take her. Even if her sex appeal is a punch to my gut, as apparent is her beauty. Her skirt is a bit higher than mine, her shirt tight with the curve of her awesome boobs. How I notice all of this I don’t know, but the chick is stylish as fuck.

  And, she looks badass. As in, ‘don’t come for me if you can’t handle it’ type of badass. I aspire to be on that level, honestly.

  “You new?” She questions and something about the way she looks at me prompts me to answer back where I would have normally ignored her and carried on with minding my own business. That’s my level of petty, ignore and dismiss.

  “Somewhat. You?” I question.

  “Somewhat.” She says with a smile and then walks up to the counter. “I just arrived moved here a few days ago and already I hate this snotty ass place. These bitches look like they fart daisies with their plastic asses.” She says, making me chuckle.

  “Mind your language young lady. You must be Kimberly Allory.” The administration assistant says with a frustrated huff, as if the new school day has already begun to take a toll on her.

  “That’s me Carol. How are you today?” Kimberly responds with a quick smile that is aimed at grating on the admin’s nerves.

  “Just peachy.” She says as she types something else on her computer and Kimberly shoots me a wink.

  “Well, Miss Fields, it looks like you and Miss. Allory will be in some classes together and seeing that we never have any new students at all—let alone in the senior year—I would normally advice you both to at least stick together.” She says as she gathers some papers shoves them in a folder and extends the same folder as mine to Kimberly. “But in this case, I sense trouble with Miss. Allory so, in respect of your brother Miss. Fields, I suggest that you stay away from Miss. Allory and perhaps all the other spoilt brats of this school.” She says sternly to which Kimberly snorts, reaching for the folder.

  “Yeah, somehow I doubt you are the type to do as you are told.” Kimberly says as she looks at me, completely ignoring the administrator’s weird warning.

  "But you really do look like trouble.” I say with a smile of my own. I like this girl. I don’t know if it’s because we are both starting out as new students or the way she seems to be unimpressed by this school at all. I don’t know what it is about her but I already like her.

  “Wouldn’t you like to know.” She says with a chuckle as the first school bell rings.

  “I’m Astraea, by the way.” I introduce myself.

  “Astraea? Is your mother into Greek Mythology or something?” She questions, raising her perfectly groomed and threaded eyebrow.

  “That, among other things.” I say as we begin walking. I don’t want to talk about my mother, she boils my blood just thinking of her.

  “Well, you already know my name, but call me Kim” She says as we start walking down the long hallway, making our way to the exit, watching as the students rush to get to their home rooms. I know for certain that I’m going to be late to my first class, whichever it is.

  “What’s your first class?” I question her as I go through my file. I don’t have time to go to my locker room right now though, I’ll have to do that later.

  “Hmm, says here I have AP Chemistry.” She says just as I notice my own schedule and there it is, our first class together.

  “Same here. We should go to the science block.” I say and begin walking that way.

  “Wait, you know this place?” She questions, following after me.

  “Somewhat.” I answer. But in my mind, I’m already questioning everything. Why would my brother want to transfer? What happened here?

  As we walk down one of the paths that cut through the grass, right beside the parking lot, with Kimberly texting on her phone, we notice that most of the students are outside, instead of going to their home rooms. They are all looking at something, staring in a rather fascinated manner.

  “They are still there?” Kim sighs. I shoot her a look then back to the circle of students.

  “What’s going on there?” I question Kim who looks up and looks at the direction I’m looking at, where some students are gathered.

  “I don’t know but whatever it is, must be super ridiculous. Look at the way those girls over there are pulling up their skirts. Definitely doing it for of boys.” She says with an unimpressed look on her face. “Or girls, I mean I don’t discriminate.”

  “It’s not just any boys, bitch.” A random girl rudely interjects, her words are clipped as if she was just offended by Kim. Then just as quickly, reverence and adoration fills her voice, “It’s the Blue Boys.” She quickly walks past us to get closer to the gathered group of girls.

  “What a bitch.” Kim says. “And who the fuck are these Blue Boys?”

  “I think I have an idea of who they are.” I quickly turn on my heel to make my way to the science building. I’m not staying for any of this bullshit.

  “Hold on, you know them?” She questions.

  “I’m surprised you haven’t heard of them. Which part of Westbrook did you move to?” I question.

  “The valley. Why?”

  “The valley and your new school is Westbrook Blues High? A self-proclaimed school of idiotic rich jocks and totally fake ass, plastic bitches?” I say and she laughs.

  “Oh, the wonderful passage of teenage years. Every school has those you know.” She answers and I shake my head.

  “Yeah but not on such an exclusively shallow and well, disastrous level as Westbrook High.”

  Westbrook Blues High is a private school only attended by kids from the top tier of the country. Just a select few are ever enrolled each year and some kids never actually get in so I’m surprised that she is from the valle
y and got a place here. Don’t mistake me though, many kids from the valley would jump at the opportunity of attending this old as fuck, wealthy school but Kim doesn’t strike me as the type of girl that cares about all of the glitz and glamour of bullshit that is W.B.H.

  “And besides, I’m not sure if you know this or not but since you are new, I’ll tell you. Valley kids mostly go to the public high school there.” I think back to the cryptic way the office administrator was looking at Kim. Surely, that wasn’t a look of suspicion. But then, why would she warn me against Kim—it doesn’t add up. Shit, I might be reading in between lines that don’t exist here.

  “Not me. Somehow found myself here.” She says, her voice firm and hard. I guess there is a story here as well, judging by the way she grits out her words, getting on the defensive. Yeah, I know the signs.

  I decide to be honest with her.

  “Listen, I’m not prying. I’m just trying to understand, is all.” I explain. I am not at all into digging into other people’s lives simply because I don’t want anyone digging into mine. It’s messy as fuck in there and I don’t need anybody trying to get a glimpse. Let alone a random girl I just met.

  “I know.” She says with a sigh. “It’s just that, I’m not good at making new friends.”

  “Huh, go figure. So am I.” I say.

  “Somehow, I think you are okay with that.” She says with a raise of her perfectly shaped eyebrow, looking at me with a searching gaze.

  “So are you.” I counter back. We stare at each other for a beat and then she burst out laughing.

  “Oh, I like you.”

  “I’m glad I am of some use to you.” A small smile graces my face.

  “Yeah, but you haven’t told me about the Blue Boys.” She points out as we arrive at the science building. Our classroom is the first one we see so we make a move to walk there.

  “Will you look at what the wind dragged in.”

  Oh God, please tell me it’s not her.

  “It looks like our poor, abandoned and cast away girl has made friends with our latest charity case. And look at that, they are already fishing about our Blue Boys. Whores at work and all that.”

  Her high pitched, cold and calculated snorty voice speaks from behind us followed by some annoying giggles from a group of girls. I know before I even turn around, that trouble has already found me.

  TURNING AROUND, I COME face to face with someone that I never thought I would ever have to see again in my life. And there she is, Brittney Pace. I take her in just as much as she is studying me.

  Her blonde curls that I remember and used to be so intensely jealous of are now longer, bouncier with more volume. Her pale blue eyes are crystal clear, sharp and cold as she looks at me with disdain marring her face, a curled up lip completing the look. I take in her perfect nose that somehow doesn’t match the blotchy one I remember when were younger—well, she definitely joined the surgical adjustments train. Her lips are coated in some kind of blood red lipstick that makes her look like the cunning bitch that she is.

  My childhood best friend, the very one that stabbed me in the back with a perfect, gleeful smile on her face while she did so. The one to give that drink at that party four years ago. . .

  “What happened, Astraea? Britain kicked your crazy self out and now you are back?” She taunts, looking at me like I’m her least favorite person in the world.

  I know that look in her eyes. I definitely know that she doesn’t want me here. Well the feeling is mutual. I don’t want to be here and I certainly don’t want to see her witchy face.

  The animosity I feel towards this whore cannot put in words so I remain deathly still, watching her smirk as she looks at me.

  “Uh, and who the fuck are you, blotch face?” Kim butts in after I remain silent, staring at the person that literally set out to destroy me. And well, she did succeed.

  But calling me crazy, now that is something that evokes a reaction in me. A negative one and judging by the increase in my pulse rates and the sweat I can feel on my brow, that word ‘crazy’ combined with seeing her, has driven me into a space I wasn’t ready for.

  “Bitch, Brittney doesn’t have a blotched face!” One of her friends steps up, “She just got her face done by the best doctor in the world!”

  Brittney gasps and turns to shoot a death glare to her friend whose words haven’t as yet caught up with her. It would be your own friends sometimes, ha!

  A pause. And then Kim and I look at each other and then we burst out laughing. Suddenly, everything is going to be alright. I finally have control of myself again, and I won’t allow anyone here to affect me or my mood.

  “Oops, I didn’t mean to say that, Brit. I’m sorry.” The girl says but Brittney ignores her. She must be that one friend in every clique that can’t really control her mouth.

  “You have the best of friends there, Brittney.” I say with a laugh.

  “Shut up, Astraea. Nobody asked for your opinion.” She counters, getting angrier by the second.

  “And nobody asked you to come here.” Kim says, literally looking down her nose at Brittney and her friends. I watch as they all study Kim. I notice the looks of envy in their eyes. And why not? I don’t know Kim, hell, I just met her, but the girl literally oozes appeal and confidence. Combine that with her sass and you have a lethal combination of a badass girl.

  “This is my turf, not yours Astraea.”

  Insecurities much?

  “Oh honey, you can have every inch of it. I’m sure you need some space to put all that nasty fat.” I counter, growing tired of this conversation already.

  Her friends gasp in embarrassment but Brittney’s claws are only sharpening, her eyes growing frostier with each second that passes. I’m not sure what this is all about or why she is in my face right now, but it’s just pissing me off.

  I watch as she takes a step closer to me, invading my personal space. I wonder if she knows what she did all those years ago. I wonder if she knows what happened to me that night. I wouldn’t put it past her though, I think she has hated me since day one when I thought she was my day one, my ride or die best friend.

  I guess I was so damn delusional about that too. Can’t believe that I never noticed the plastic smiles, the hate in her eyes. How could I not have seen it? It right there in front me—albeit, intensified over the years.

  How could I have been so wrong about the people in my life?

  Just seeing her though, it breaks a part of my composure but I won’t ever, not ever, allow her to see that. She will not have any power over me. Not her and definitely not this town.

  “If I were you, I would watch my back and stay away from the Blue Boys.” She threatens in a low voice. Ah, there she is. Vindictive, manipulative and hates me for the very boys I named.

  The same boys that abandoned me.

  “I’ll do you one better.” I step closer to her, watching as her eyes widen. She didn’t expect me to actually get into her face like this, huh?

  “Why don’t you and your little barbie-bratz stay away from me and as a bonus, you can all keep your Blue Boys? How about that?”

  I watch her shocked expression, and shoot her my award winning sweet fuck you smile. “Now, run along and fix your eyebrows. One of them is crooked.” I say with a happy wink, and then turn to make my way into the class.

  Before I can take any more steps towards the open classroom door, I notice three sets of icy eyes staring at me with blank expressions on their faces. From the way they are standing there, it’s obvious that they have been there for a while and watched the entire confrontation that I did not ask for at all.

  Oh well, I guess it’s a usual thing for them to witness, but I don’t care. I’m not here to fight for these assholes. Maybe once I would have gone to war for them but they proved they could never go to battle for me. So, that’s that I guess.

  It’s then that I recognize who the other two guys were, from the church. The brunette one, with a smirk on his face is Noah Mon
treal.

  God, he’s so damn tall, lean and drop dead gorgeous. From the corner of my eye, I notice Brittney’s friends eye him and wave at Noah who in turn sends the girls a wink.

  Really? He strings them along when he clearly has no interest in them?

  As I watch him, he catches my eye, sends me a playful ‘I caught you staring’ wink as I take my time to take him in. I narrow my eyes at him.

  He isn’t anything at all that I remember—nor does he do justice to the image of him that I would conjure up in my head on the many isolated, lonely nights I spent in London, trying to battle the darkness in my head. The braces—that we both got at the same time—are now gone and in their place, I can see he has a mouth full of shiny white teeth as he sucks on a lollipop in a rather seductive way—if the sighing girls are any indication. Gone are the bright yellow rain boots that he used to love so much, parading in them everywhere he went. Now in their place are some of the most expensive—most likely exclusive—shoes I have ever seen.

  His body has filled out and although he was the shortest among the boys, he has grown a lot, but still a few inches shorter than Ace and Emmett. Noah is lean and well cut, definitely keeps himself in check but that smirk on his face, that twinkle in his eyes that I know makes girls drool—now that is the Noah that I never anticipated but can see clearly. He was always a ladies’ boy back then, breaking hearts and taking names with his charming smile. Now, he is Mr. I’ll Make You Wet Then Break Your Stupid Heart.

  It’s written all over that smirk and wink.

  Then there is Emmett Easton. The boy that gave me shivers yet still I absolutely loved to be around him. Silent, smart and brimming with anger inside himself.

  He is tall, brawny, much more muscular and filled out than Noah and Ace, but then again, he was always bigger, quieter than the rest of the boys. He was my teddy bear that I just loved being around. His silence never bothered me, his intelligence always amazed me. Then there was his creativity. . .now that blew my mind away.

  I wonder if he still creates magic to this day but as I look at him, I notice the ticking in his clenched jaw, the darkness in his eyes, I know he is angry. The anger is so intense, so strong that it takes me aback with its ferocity. If looks could kill. . .