Dammit.
This is my free period, so I’m not late, thankfully, but I have so much studying I should be doing instead of having to tell Rhys Blackwood to screw off.
I make it to the math hall and dart inside, but the halls are eerily quiet since class has already begun. I’m halfway down the hall, when I feel the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. A sense of foreboding seeps itself inside of me. Whipping around, I’m face to face with Rhys, and he grins menacingly.
“Looking for me, I presume?”
I stalk over to where he stands until my toes hit the front of his, until he’s so close I can smell the faint trace of cologne and… him. Cedar-like and woodsy, with a hint of smoke. I hate it and I hate him. I hate the way it makes me clench in places that have no business being involved.
“Were you looking for me?” I ask him. It takes everything I have not to hurl myself at him.
He laughs, the cold sound echoing throughout the deserted hallway. “Why would I be looking for you, Valentina? Nothing about you is memorable. What could someone like me need from someone like you?”
Asshole. My teeth grind together as I try not to lose my shit. I swallow down the lump of anger as it fills my throat.
“Because you knew after you filled my locker with those… things, I’d come looking for you, and that’s what you wanted. Once again, I played right into your bullshit game.”
His face shows nothing, like a joker never revealing his hand of cards.
“I think you’re a little obsessed with me. You keep showing up everywhere I am, and if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were stalking me.” He steps closer until our chests are pressed together. My entire body recoils from his touch.
“Get over yourself, asshole. I’ve had enough of this shit.”
“It’s a good thing I don’t give a fuck about what you have to say, Valentina.” His gaze turns deadly. Like if he could, he’d really kill me, right here, in this very spot without batting an eye.
“Look, I know you think I ratted you and your frat boy posse out, or whatever it is you think I’ve done… I haven’t. Just leave me alone, go back to pretending people like me don’t exist,” I plead in a weak moment.
“Oh, but it’s so much fun pretending you do exist. But we both know when it’s all said and done, you’re nothing. Valentina Carmichael fades into the background. Nothing extraordinary or worth remembering.” He fingers a piece of my hair that’s loose near my face and twirls it around his finger, then tugs, pulling me even closer.
“Don't touch me." I reach to slap his hand away, but he captures my wrist mid-slap. The large, callous feel of his palm circles my wrist easily and he yanks me against his chest. His touch feels like I’ve been burned and I hate it. I’m disgusted he feels like he can touch me without my consent.
"You forget who the fuck you are, little lamb," he murmurs coldly, running a lone finger along my jawline, making me shiver against the warm, hard part of his body I'm pressed against. I hate him. I hate him more than I've ever hated anyone. I hate how he has a power over my body he doesn't deserve. I hate that it takes one touch and I lose my rational thoughts and the will to fight back.
“I do whatever I want to you, whenever I want, and you keep your mouth shut. What you should’ve done in the first place. Whine about it as much as you want, doesn’t change the fact that I’m going to fucking ruin you, Valentina.”
With that, he spins me around with ease and slams me into the lockers behind me. The coldness of the metal bites into my face when his hand finds my neck, thrusting me into it. His lips dip close to my ear and he whispers, “Keep running that mouth, little lamb, and I’m going to fill it with my cock. Then let's see how much you have to say.” My heart begins to race in my chest when his hands caress my back roughly, until he reaches my ass.
His hand comes down so hard, so quick against my ass cheek, it causes me to cry out. The sensation immediately stings and makes me shiver all at once. I feel the heat in my skin where his hand just was.
Have I mentioned how much I despise him?
“You should work on the looking desperate thing… it’s an even worse look on you than the innocent act you pull.”
Before I can even think of a comeback, he lets go and leaves me standing alone in the hallway with my mouth agape, my ass tender and likely red, hating him even more than I did before I sought him out. I’m already sick of this cat and mouse game he’s playing, and I have a feeling it’s only just begun.
“Rhys, power’s out. Everything’s down from the storm,” Rowan says as he walks back into the common room, out of the raging storm.
The rain pounds against the side of our common room as the wind whips outside so strongly, the door shakes on its hinges. By the looks of it, it won’t be letting up any time soon.
“All right. Go to the church, get as many candles as you can without anyone noticing,” I tell him, and he nods, pulling his hood back over his head and walks out without another word.
“We're gonna party in this storm?” This time it’s Sebastian who speaks. He’s sitting on the other side of the room, more quiet than usual, while he tosses a football up in the air. He’s been moody for the past few days, and I haven’t had the chance to ask him what’s going on. I’ve been trying to get in touch with Ezra’s dad to try and get him out of fucking jail, and it seems like all he gives a shit about is teaching him a lesson, even though he’d rather the Kennedy last name not be dragged through the mud. It seems like his penchant to see his son suffer outweighs everyone else’s opinion.
Fuck, it’s all these people care about. What their last name can afford them. Money, fame, power. It’s all a fucking game, and one I wasn’t ever going to participate in. My life is a far cry from the silver spoon-fed kids in this school, and it’s part of the reason I’ve never tried to fit their mold.
“Not much different than any other night,” I say.
My head has been fucked-up trying to figure the shit out with Ezra, coupled with the fact that Valentina Carmichael is walking around with loose lips while she holds the rest of our futures in her hands.
“You get Carmichael’s friend to come tonight?” I look over at Alec who’s playing Xbox.
“He said he’d be there. Didn’t talk to him any longer than you forced me to.”
Instead of replying, I chuck a cup at him and it hits him in the back of the head, hard.
“Fuck! Asshole.” He groans, but never takes his eyes off the massive flatscreen.
“You sure you know what you’re doing?” Sebastian asks.
“Yeah, Rhys, you know what you’re doing? Fucking with the virgin of St. Augustine, she’s holier-than-thou,” Alec chimes in.
I toss the sleeve of Oreos I’m holding and it hits him on the head.
“Fuck, man! Stop chucking shit at me.”
“How about you leave Carmichael to me. Sebastian, you have your hands full being the teacher’s pet… literally, so I’ve got this.”
“Fuck off.” He stands abruptly and storms into the dorms, and I hear our door slam shut behind him.