Cruel Intentions : A High School Bully Romance (Eastern High Series Book 1)

After one of the shittiest days of my life, I lock myself in my room, shutting out the world—and especially my dad. Talking to him isn’t an option. Not about my day, not about the money I need, not about anything. Just the thought of asking him for help makes my stomach twist into knots. I can’t even meet his eyes without feeling like I’m drowning. So yeah—time to get a job.

And my mother?

Nothing. She didn’t even bother replying to the text I sent her last night when I was barely keeping it together. Guess that’s the answer I didn’t want but should’ve seen coming. It’s clear now—I’m on my own. Completely. Totally. Fucking alone.

I didn’t think today could outdo last night, but life loves to kick me when I’m down. Noah’s anger at my window should’ve been the first warning shot, but Tia? Tia took it to a whole new level. She’s turned her bitch mode up to eleven, strutting around like she owns the world. And the rest of them? Just her little entourage, too scared of her wrath to do anything but follow her lead and kiss her ass.

It’s pathetic, really—the way they look at her, wide-eyed and worshipful, like she’s some kind of royalty.

But the worst part?

I didn’t think their hate could get under my skin. I thought I was tougher than that, above their petty bullshit. Yet here I am, staring at the ceiling, gutted.

I don’t even want to imagine how I would’ve survived Tia’s bullshit today if it weren’t for Sam. Facing that venom on my own would’ve been a whole new level of hell. But Sam didn’t let that happen. She pulled me in like I mattered, like I wasn’t just some afterthought. Her group might be small—just her, Lola, Liz, and me—but it feels solid. Real. Like, for once, I might actually have people who’ve got my back.

Still, Tia needs to be knocked off her pedestal, and I’m done playing along. She can have her little army of sheep kissing her ass, but I’m not one of them. I’m not afraid of her, and if she keeps pushing, she’s going to find out just how serious I am.

As I lie in bed, the darkness closing in, a sudden flicker of light from Noah’s window slices through the shadows. His curtain stays drawn, but my eyes latch onto it, unwilling to look away.

Somewhere deep down, I’m hoping—stupidly, desperately—that he might pull it back, that he might glance over, just once, the way he used to. But I know that’s a lie I can’t afford to believe. He hates me now. The kind of hate that burns, the kind I deserve.

The memories creep in anyway, sharp and relentless. I can’t stop thinking about us—about what we were and how I destroyed it. The truth is, I still love him. God, I love him with every broken, aching part of me. That fire never went out, not for a second, no matter how much it tears me apart. Every time I see him, it flares hotter, searing through my chest, a constant reminder of what I lost—what I never should’ve let go of in the first place.

But I did. I broke us. I broke him.

And now all I have are the ashes of what could’ve been, and the unbearable truth that he’ll never love me like he once did.

I don’t know where to begin, how to undo the damage I caused. Fixing us—if that’s even in the cards—feels like standing at the base of a mountain I’ll never climb. Maybe we’ll never go back to what we were, but can’t we at least stop ripping each other apart every time we’re in the same room? The weight of the tension, the way it crackles like a live wire between us, is too much to bear.

Maybe I need to talk to him. Lay it all out. Apologize. Tell him how sorry I am for every way I messed this up. We were each other’s firsts, and that has to mean something. It has to count for more than the pain I’ve left behind. Doesn’t it?

Still, there’s a part of me—a small, aching, desperate part—that clings to the memory of the Noah I lost. The Noah who was mine. The one who could make the weight of the world disappear with just a look, who held me like I was the only thing that mattered.

But I can’t pretend anymore. That Noah is gone, buried beneath the wreckage I caused.

For some fucked-up reason, all I can think about is explaining the condoms in my bag. I don’t care what anyone else thinks—let them gossip, let them assume.

But Noah?

His opinion is the only one that matters. The thought of him thinking I’m some easy slut, someone who’ll spread her legs for anyone who looks my way—it makes my stomach turn. I can’t let him believe that about me. Not him. Not after everything.

When Tia held them up, smug as hell, I didn’t even see her. My eyes locked onto Noah, and fuck, the look on his face tore through me.

Hurt.

Disappointment.

It was all there, plain as day. And I hate it. I just want to fix this. I want him to know it’s not what it looked like. I don’t even know why it matters so much, but it does. It just does.

Outside my bedroom door, down the hall, I hear my father crank up the damn television. He always does that when he’s drinking, like the booze fucks with his hearing and he needs the volume turned up, as if he’s terrified of missing something—anything—important.

I’ve lost count of how many times my mother would scream at him to turn it down. That’s when the real shitshow would start—the yelling, the things getting thrown, the doors slamming, the air thick with accusations and name-calling. It never ended well. It never fucking did.

I roll onto my side and see Noah’s light flick off. I stare at the wall, my mind racing, hoping that tomorrow might somehow be different. That it’ll be better. A fresh start. A clean slate. Because surely, it can’t get worse than today, right? But deep down, I know the truth. Tomorrow? It’ll probably be just as fucked up as today.

My sleep is shattered, restless through the night, and it’s way too early. I don’t even bother checking the time on my phone, so I just lay here too tired to care, staring at the ceiling, trying to force my mind to shut the fuck up long enough to get some sleep.

Then, my phone pings.

And like clockwork, thoughts of my mother flood in.

Has she finally gotten back to me, or is she still wrapped up in her own shit, ignoring the daughter she’s supposed to give a damn about?

I snatch my phone from the charger, squinting at the screen through tired eyes. If it’s her, part of me wants to ignore it, just like she’s ignored me for God knows how long. But it’s not her.

It’s Sam.

The pain hits hard. My mother’s probably lost in her new boyfriend’s bullshit, too busy living her new life while she conveniently forgets about me—the daughter she swore she’d protect, the one she couldn’t even be bothered to check in on.

I don’t hesitate. I fire off my reply, almost too quickly. It’s pathetic how badly I’m clinging to something so insignificant.

I hit send. The phone sits in my hand, taunting me with its silence. Then it buzzes.

Relief washes over me, almost too good to be true. No bus ride this morning, no bullshit with the usual crowd. I toss my phone onto the bed and take my time getting dressed, as my thoughts scatter in all directions.

The house feels unnervingly quiet.

I move through the hallway, trying to stay as quiet as possible, knowing my dad’s probably still in his room, nursing a hangover. I don’t even bother opening the fridge or cupboards—there’s nothing but stale shit in there. Last night’s dinner was a dry piece of bread I couldn’t even choke down. Moments like this only remind me how badly I need to find a job—anything to make sure I don’t starve while I’m stuck here.

I swing open the front door and spot Sam’s car parked at the curb. I close the door quietly, skipping the lock—my dad never bothers with it. Maybe that’s why he’s never given me a key.

Tucking my phone away, I slide into the front seat next to Sam.

She turns to me with a smile. ‘Ready for another day of fun?’

‘Yeah, yesterday was fucking awesome,’ I say, remembering all the shit that went down. ‘Looking forward to doing it all over again.’

‘Today will be better, you’ll see,’ Sam says, but I don’t believe her.

She bursts into laughter when I just stare at her, then starts the engine. In a few seconds, we’re speeding down the street, the world blurring around us.

‘So, what’s it like having the hottest guy in school as your neighbor?’ she asks, her voice full of that teasing energy.

I stare out the window, watching the houses blur by.

What the hell do I even say to that? Part of me wants to tell her that living next to Noah used to be the best, that I loved it, but now it just fucks with me.

‘Don’t worry, you don’t have to answer that,’ she says, cutting through the quiet. There’s a pause before she asks, ‘Do you think you two will ever be friends again?’

‘I don’t know. Probably not, especially now that he’s with Tia,’ I say, turning to face her.

Sam looks at me, raising an eyebrow. ‘You know they’re not a thing, right? Him and Tia,’ she says, her voice light, but there’s something off in the way she says it. ‘It’s common knowledge Noah doesn’t do relationships. He’s all about hook-ups. Same goes for Reece and Jace. Always chasing tail.’

I pause, processing that. ‘But I thought Tia had a problem with me because of Noah.’

‘Oh, she probably does,’ Sam says with a smirk. ‘She’s been dying to be with him. Everyone knows that. They hooked up once, but that’s about it.’

I let out a breath, feeling the tightness in my chest loosen just a little.

Sam flicks on the indicator, waiting for a few cars to pass before she swings into the school parking lot. My nerves hit hard as I spot groups of students chatting and laughing, their carefree energy only making the weight of today press down harder. But no matter how much shit gets thrown my way, I won’t let Tia or Noah fuck with me today. Not this time.

As soon as the car stops, I’m out, slinging my pack over my shoulder. My eyes scan the parking lot, and there she is—Tia, flanked by her pack of bitches, all high-maintenance and bitchy, like they own the place.

Up ahead, Noah leans against a car, all effortlessly cool, talking to some guy whose name I can’t even remember. My stomach tightens, and for a second, I just want to turn around and walk straight back to the car. But I can’t let them win. Not today.

The second Tia spots me and Sam walking her way, her smile twists into something mean, like she’s just been handed a weapon. She edges closer to Noah, like being near him makes her untouchable. I can already see it in her eyes—she’s gearing up to start some shit, or maybe she just wants to pull that pathetic ‘he’s mine’ routine again.

As we get closer, Noah’s eyes flick to mine, just for a second, and my breath catches before I quickly look away. The last thing I need is to lock eyes with him right now—not here, not with everyone watching.

I’m not about to air out all our fucked-up history in the middle of the parking lot. If we’re going to talk, it’ll have to be later, in private. That is, if I can even manage to get him alone.

But Tia? Tia doesn’t give a shit about subtlety or privacy. Of course not.

She turns to her group, smirking like she’s already won, and says loud enough for half the lot to hear, ‘Oh, look, everyone. It’s the new school slut and her loser friend.’

Her words slice through the air, full of venom, and I can feel the weight of everyone’s eyes on me. The laughter starts to stir, just like I knew it would. My hands ball into fists, my face burning with anger. Fuck Tia.

I’m done with her shit. My mouth opens, prepared to tell her exactly where she can shove her bullshit.

But before I can get the words out, Noah moves. His arm wraps around Tia’s waist, pulling her in close, and then his lips slam onto hers, shutting me the hell up.

The kiss is intense, raw, like he’s out to make a statement. And damn, it hits harder than I want to admit. I can’t tear my eyes away, though. It’s like witnessing a wreck—ugly, unavoidable, and somehow it’s all I can focus on.

Tia melts into Noah without hesitation, gripping him like she might collapse if he were to let go.

The crowd around us goes wild—cheers, whistles, and catcalls ringing out like they’re watching a damn show.

Sam grips my arm, pulling me forward, and I let her guide me through the crowd. I keep my chin up, my face set in stone, refusing to give Tia or Noah the satisfaction of seeing how much that little stunt just messed me up.

Sam’s voice is steady, low but firm. “He’s just trying to fuck with you. Noah doesn’t pull shit like that. The only time I’ve ever seen him kiss anyone is at a party, and that’s just when he’s hooking up.”

I fall silent, my thoughts spinning. My chest feels tight, and I try to steady myself, gripping the strap of my bag like it’ll somehow anchor me.

“I don’t know,” I say finally, my voice quieter than I want it to be. “It looked real to me.”

Sam snorts, rolling her eyes. ‘That wasn’t real. Noah’s not the type to get all affectionate unless he’s after something. He hooks up, then moves on. What he did? That was a statement. He did it to get under your skin. He’s fucking with you.’

Maybe she’s right. Maybe it wasn’t about Tia at all. Maybe it was all for me—to twist the knife just a little deeper.

‘Well, it definitely worked,’ I reply, forcing a smile onto my face as we walk through the iron gates. The ache in my chest refuses to fade, but I’m not about to let it take over—not here, not now.

Sam chuckles, nudging me lightly with her elbow. ‘Honestly, I thought you were gonna march right over there and rip that bitch’s hair out just to get her away from him.’

I laugh, but it’s hollow. ‘Don’t tempt me,’ I say.

We head up the front steps and into the crowded hallway, dodging elbows and backpacks in the chaos. It’s no surprise when eyes turn my way—mostly guys, their gazes following me with that same mix of smugness and expectation.

It’s clear they’ve bought into whatever bullshit Tia’s been peddling. After the whole condom incident, I’m probably just another easy fuck in their eyes, a rumor they can latch onto to feed their pathetic fantasies.

Sam and I part ways near the lockers. Hers is closer to the entrance; mine’s further down, and on the other side of the hall. As I open it to grab my books, the weight of their stares presses on me, intense and unyielding, daring me to make a move.

Even with the locker door between us, it doesn’t shield me from the whispers, the quiet snickers.

I slam my locker shut with a force that makes the whole row shake and walk down the hallway toward Sam, who’s still chatting and laughing with someone by her locker. As I wait for her, I spot Lola heading my way.

‘Hey, Aubrey,’ Lola says, her voice warm. Her face is partially hidden behind those oversized black glasses—geeky as hell, yet somehow, they only add to her charm, making her look even more stunning.

‘Hey, Lola,’ I reply.

‘You should probably hate me,’ she says.

‘Why should I hate you?’ I ask, frowning.

‘Because I prayed someone else would take the heat from Tia,’ she blurts out, her words tumbling out faster than she seems to expect. Then, she quickly adds, ‘I didn’t mean to throw it all on you, you know? I just… I just wanted someone else to deal with it for a change.’

‘It’s fine, Lola,’ I say. ‘I’ll handle Tia. Whatever shit she throws at me, I’ll deal with it.’

Lola drops her gaze, fiddling with the edge of her sweater like a scolded kid. She’s not the type to stand up to Tia, and it’s obvious. Too damn timid. It’s exactly why Tia zeroed in on her, picking her as an easy target, knowing she wouldn’t put up a fight. But I’m not Lola. I’m not going to take it lying down.

As Sam comes over and Lola walks away, Sam and I rush down the hall, the bell ringing in our ears, a sharp reminder that we’re cutting it close.

We enter the classroom just as the bell rings its final note. My eyes immediately flick to the back, where three assholes are tossing a football around, their loud laughs cutting through the air.

Then, the blonde-haired dickhead with the ball locks eyes with me.

For a split second, he freezes, his fingers tightening around the ball, and I can already feel the bullshit coming. His smirk spreads slowly across his face.

‘Hey, Aubrey,’ he sneers, his tone thick with mockery. ‘You gonna hang out with us at lunch? Maybe show us three a good time?’ His smirk widens. ‘I heard you’re into all kinds of things. You know, like up the ass, and every other hole.’

The room erupts in laughter, the mocking tone echoing off the walls, but it doesn’t make me blush from shame—it makes me burn with rage. I shoot him the nastiest glare I can muster, but it does nothing.

I slam my books down on the desk, drowning out their taunts. These assholes? They’re not worth my time. They don’t actually want a response—they just want to show off to their friends, acting like they’re untouchable. Well, fuck them.

But then, just like that, the laughter dies. The room goes unnervingly quiet.

I glance over my shoulder, expecting to see the teacher, but instead, it’s Noah. He’s standing in the doorway, his gaze fixed on the asshole who just spoke, a look so cold it could freeze hell over.

The asshole freezes, his smug grin faltering, then completely vanishing as he realizes just how much trouble he’s in.

I quickly whip my head back around, pretending I didn’t notice, like my heartbeat isn’t racing. But all I can think about is Tia—her lips on Noah’s, the way they were tangled up.

The anger that surges inside me isn’t just from that jerk’s words. It’s the gnawing ache of seeing Noah like that, with her, and realizing just how deep it cuts.

I don’t need this right now. I’ve got enough going on.

I sink into my seat next to Sam, doing my best to ignore the pounding in my chest as Noah walks deeper into the room. His eyes flick to mine, and for a split second, everything around us goes still.

I look away quickly, pretending I didn’t feel the pull, but I can feel the weight of everyone else’s gaze on him. It’s like he’s the damn sun, and the rest of us are just stuck orbiting him, helpless.

I know I shouldn’t look back, but I can’t help it. His tousled hair falls into his eyes, and his long lashes—everything about him is still beautiful. And then his mouth, that perfect, sinful mouth—the one that used to kiss me like he actually meant it.

I don’t get it. He never wanted to be the center of attention before, but now he soaks it up like he was born for it. Like he needs it.

Noah drops his bag onto the floor just two seats away, and for a moment, he locks eyes with me again. That cocky, infuriating smirk spreads across his face, like he knows exactly what the hell I’m thinking.

Did he just catch me checking him out? I can feel my cheeks flush, my stomach twisting in embarrassment.

I want to crawl into a hole and disappear. What the fuck is wrong with me? And why did I make it so obvious?

Late students scramble to find their seats as the teacher steps in, and relief washes over me when I realize Tia isn’t in this class. For once, I can actually breathe for a minute.

I pull my notebook out, flipping through the pages, hoping to lose myself in the work and forget about everything else. If I could just focus, forget about Noah and his stupid, smug smirk. Tia, too—fuck her and everything she stands for. And my mom’s messes, always landing on my plate, never my choice.

I can’t afford to care about any of it. My future’s on the line. My grades. The scholarship I’ve got for next year—it’s my only shot. I can’t let anything, especially them, screw it all up for me. I don’t have the luxury of falling apart.

The bell rings, and I quickly shove my stuff into my bag and make my way out with Sam.

We head for our lockers, the noise of everyone rushing through the hallway making it feel even more chaotic than the classroom. Just as I’m about to stuff my huge textbook into my locker, the announcement speaker crackles to life.

‘Samantha Carter, please come to the admin office.’

Sam says a quick goodbye, and before I can even get a word in, she’s gone.

I head straight for the bathroom, desperate to escape—Noah, Tia, the chaos in my head. I just need a moment of peace.

When I push open the door, I’m met with a group of girls crowded around the mirror, taking their sweet time with makeup, fixing their hair, and snapping selfies like the world revolves around them. I don’t have the energy for their nonsense, so I make a beeline for a stall and slam the door shut behind me.

But as soon as I think I can breathe, the bathroom door opens, then the sound of heels click against the tiles.

“Everyone get the hell out of here now,” a voice barks.

The words hit the air, cold and final, without a single pause. I hear the frantic sound of bags being zipped up, the rush of feet pounding toward the door—everyone’s scrambling to leave, to escape whatever the hell just happened.

But me? I’m stuck. Frozen in this stall, my heart hammering in my chest.

‘Are you alright?’ the voice asks, and I instantly wonder how many people are standing out there.

‘Yeah,’ comes the reply, cold and clipped. ‘I didn’t expect Noah to pull that shit.’

My ears immediately perk up at the mention of Noah. I’m finished peeing, but I stall, holding off on flushing, hoping they’ll just leave.

My timing? Perfect, as usual. Wrong place, wrong time—that’s my mantra. It’s like the universe has a sick sense of humor, always making sure I walk straight into a mess I don’t need.

‘I know, Nicole. I was just as shocked when he did that.’

Nicole. The only Nicole I know is from Tia’s crew. Wait—are they talking about the kiss this morning? My heart picks up speed, and I freeze, holding my breath. I stay still, hoping for more, praying they’ll say something else.

‘Do you think he did it because Aubrey came back? Apparently, they were tight when she was here before,’ says another voice.

So, there’s three of them out there. Fucking great.

‘Well, I heard her and Noah were a thing,’ another one adds, a little too casual for my liking.

‘Yeah, but even if they were an item, after that kiss with Tia this morning—I’d say Noah doesn’t give a shit about her anymore,’ someone else chimes in.

That makes five. Five people talking shit about me.

My stomach tightens, the anger swirls inside me. I can’t help but wonder—where the hell is Tia while half her crew is out there spilling secrets about her, me, and Noah? Is she too busy playing the part of the queen bee, or does she not even know what her own people are saying?

Either way, it doesn’t matter. This whole mess is spiraling, and I’m caught in the middle of it.

‘Sabrina, I told you Nicole doesn’t want to hear about that kiss.’

‘Sorry, Nicole.’

Then, another voice jumps in, and I can already feel the headache coming on. ‘I heard Aubrey banged seven football players at the same time back at her old school.’

My heart lurches, a cold, tight feeling spreading through my chest. I can’t believe the bullshit they’re spewing. I knew Tia’s crew loved to spread rumors, but this? This is next-level. The part of me that wants to lash out, to shut them all down, is screaming, but the rest of me is too numb to respond.

‘Who told you that?’

‘Tia said she heard it from a friend.’

Tia, of course. The bitch with her ear to the ground, spreading false rumors like she’s some kind of gossip queen. I can practically hear her smug laugh in my head, getting off on the chaos she’s causing. This isn’t just about me anymore. It’s about control—her need to keep me in my place, to make sure everyone thinks I’m just some slut who doesn’t deserve anything better.

‘Don’t worry, Nicole. You might still have a chance with Noah. He’s not one to stick around with the same girl for long. You’ve seen how he moves from one to the next,’ another voice adds, trying to sound reassuring, like they know everything about him.

‘Yeah, but I’ve never seen him openly kiss anyone like that before,’ another bitch says, her voice dripping with jealousy. ‘And even if it was real, I doubt he’d stick with Tia for long. They hooked up once almost a year ago. Just wait for the party this weekend. I bet he won’t be with her. You’ll see. I think he just did it to say ‘fuck you’ to Aubrey. That’s my take on it.’

The words hit like daggers as I repeat them in my head. Is that really what Noah’s doing? Just trying to get under my skin?

I’m done with this. I flush the toilet, trying to ignore the bile rising in my throat, and yank open the stall door.

Seven girls—well, seven of Tia’s crew—are standing there. Some look surprised, others glare at me like they’re ready to kill me.

I don’t hesitate. With my back straight and my head held high, I meet each of their eyes, not backing down. Let them try me. I’m not going to let Tia or any of her little followers walk all over me anymore.

I step forward, not caring about the tension in the air, not caring about their glaring eyes. If they want a fight, they’ll get one.

“Got something to say?” I challenge, my voice calm but sharp.

I stand there for a moment, the weight of the situation settling in. It’s hard not to wonder how Tia would react if she knew her own crew was secretly hoping Noah wasn’t really into her. Among the group are girls I’ve never had an issue with—people I’ve never been a bitch to. But now, here they are, all staring at me like I’m the enemy.

I ignore their glares and walk straight to the sink, not caring that some of them are sitting on the countertop, watching my every move. I turn on the faucet and start washing my hands, the sound of the water filling the silence.

Their stares burn into me, like they’re just waiting for me to react, but I’m not giving them the satisfaction. They’re hesitant, unsure of how to handle me, and it’s blatantly obvious.

I dry my hands, taking one last glance at my reflection in the mirror, and then turn to leave.

But just as I reach for the door, a voice cuts through the air behind me.

‘You know he’s over you, right? Just accept it,’ one of the girl’s sneers.

I pause, my hand hovering over the door handle.

Why the hell do they think I’m here just because of Noah? They don’t know a thing about my life, about the shit I’ve had to deal with since I left. And honestly, it’s none of their fucking business.

All I wanted was to get through this year unnoticed, to avoid their drama and the bullshit. But thanks to Tia and her pathetic insecurities, that’s not even an option anymore. I can’t stay invisible. Not when she’s made it clear she’s targeting me.

I glance back at the group, my eyes narrowing as I scan their faces, trying to figure out who had the nerve to talk shit behind my back. Whoever it was didn’t have the guts to say it to my face just a second ago, and that pisses me off more than I want to admit.

‘Tia might be your queen, but she’s just as capable of crashing and burning as the rest of you,’ I snap, my voice sharp, aimed to make sure everyone who hears feels the weight of it.

I swing the door open and step the hell out of the bathroom, already knowing my words are going to spread like wildfire through this school.

It’s the same old shitshow—everyone’s got an opinion and a rumor to fuel.

The corridor’s alive with chatter, students talking over one another, but as soon as I step through, everything goes quiet. Like someone just hit pause on the chaos.

I walk through with my chin up, pretending not to care, but I feel their eyes on me. The stares, the whispers—it never gets easier. I’m a target, picked apart and judged, like they’re waiting for me to break. But I won’t. Not this time.