Never His Girl: Dark High School Bully Romance (Kings of Cypress Pointe Book 2)

BLUE

It’s so cliché, but it got me here—the age-old adage about how important it is to ‘get right back on the horse after falling and busting your ass’.

Those very words came from Jules in a text at midnight. They were enough to make me drag myself out of bed this morning; enough that I’m currently walking the halls of Cypress Prep, pretending the whispers don’t affect me.

P.S. They affect me. I’ve just become a pro at pretending to be whole when I’m not.

Even those not talking behind my back say enough with their judgmental stares. The girls think I’m a lowlife, and the guys think I’m an easy lay. Why? Because I stupidly gave up the goods to the biggest douche on the continent.

Not my proudest moment.

They’re staring like I’m some kind of museum exhibit—the rare Slut-a-saurus Rex, alive and courageously facing the dicks and dickettes I ran from just two days ago.

Nope, guys. Your eyes aren’t deceiving you. I dared to venture outside my home and return to the lion’s den.

While Jules thinks I’m being super brave by coming back so soon, I’m leaning more toward ‘incredibly stupid’.

The warning bell sounds, and now that I have to book it, I sort of regret sitting in my car until the last possible second. It means I have to hustle through the mass of bodies that stand between me and my locker, praying I don’t have to walk into class late on top of everything else.

But more than anything, I’m praying I don’t run into … him.

Knowing I’ll eventually be forced to face West at some point today, I nearly called in sick. I managed to push past that urge, but keep imagining the sick smile he’s probably had on his face since the leak that thoroughly ruined my life.

That’s been his goal all along, right?

To hurt me so badly that I break?

Well, mission accomplished.

Anger blooms in my gut, but it isn’t all for West. Mostly, it’s aimed right at myself, for being so, so stupid. I went to his room to talk, and instead of getting what I wanted, I gave him exactly what he wanted.

Don’t go there, Blue. You have to keep it together today.

“Morning, slut-bucket!”

I’ve been so laser-focused on getting to my locker and keeping my eyes straight ahead that I missed the chance to dodge Parker. But as I’m locked on her bright stare—sparkling with satisfaction at my expense—I feel my heart sink to my stomach.

Flanking her, Heidi and Ariana glare with misdirected hatred. These bitches don’t know me, and they sure as shit don’t want to mess with me while my emotions are so raw. Last time someone crossed me on a bad day, she ended up with a broken nose and I had to nurse a fractured knuckle all summer.

“Well, aren’t we brave,” Parker beams. “I thought it’d be at least a week before we saw your poor ass strutting around here again.”

My hands tighten around the straps of my backpack where it rests on my shoulders. “Back … the fuck … away, Parker.”

That small measure of restraint I exercised when first arriving here has worn so thin now. I’m barely able to contain myself, even with my thoughts on the many reasons I have to stay in line. These past few days, all I’ve wanted is to cause pain, to hurt anyone who’s ever hurt me.

“Oh! She’s got a bit of fight in her today, ladies!” Parker pushes, shooting a quick look toward Heidi and Ariana before meeting my gaze again.

A hush spreads around us as others become aware of the confrontation.

“And hey, just so you know, you’re not alone here,” she says, sounding sweet despite everyone knowing she’s a first-class bitch. “I’m sure there are plenty other guys on the football team looking for a cheap fuck. You know, since that seems to be your thing.”

That last syllable leaves her mouth and I swear it’s like I’m having an out-of-body experience. My fist flies toward that perfect nose of hers, but I only catch air when a hard tug from behind yanks me back.

“Nope. Not on my watch you don’t,” a familiar voice says close to my ear. It’s coming from the one currently bearhugging me from behind. The same one who just saved Parker a trip to the ER.

“Ms. Holiday, don’t you have a class you should be getting to?” Dr. Pryor asks, still gripping me tight.

There’s a look of disbelief on Parker’s face as she crosses both arms over her chest.

“Um, I’m sorry, Dr. Pryor, but aren’t you going to do something?” Parker asks. “I mean, this girl’s clearly unhinged, which is why she just tried to hit me. You saw that.”

My heart’s racing so fast, and I’m fighting the urge to break free and mangle this girl. However, I’m also aware of the fact that I almost blew my shot here, by being a hothead.

“From where I stood, it looked like Ms. Riley here just wanted to give you a good morning high-five,” Dr. Pryor counters. “But unfortunately, I need her in my office to discuss something of great importance, so that’ll have to wait.”

It isn’t lost on me that this gigantic lie Dr. Pryor just told is her attempt at saving me from myself. The subtle reminder that not everyone here sucks has the temp of my blood lowering from a full-on boil to a simmer.

“But—”

“Get to class, Ms. Holiday,” Dr. Pryor cuts in.

There was a spiteful gleam in Parker’s eyes a few seconds ago, but Pryor has thoroughly extinguished it.

There’s a standoff between the two before Parker and her girls finally retreat, but not without her shooting me another of her icy glares. A look I give right back to her.

“Well, congrats anyway,” Parker announces, flashing a quick grin toward me when she adds, “You topped the list, sweetheart.”

Those are her parting words and I have no clue what she’s talking about, but something tells me I’ll know soon enough.

“You cool?” Dr. Pryor asks, still holding me tight. “I’m not going to have to chase you down this hallway, am I?”

“I’m fine.” My voice is clipped and filled with anger, but it’s not a lie. I won’t go after Parker.

Not now, anyway.

Slowly, Dr. Pryor releases me and then straightens her blazer. She meets my gaze and I don’t see what I expected to find there—disappointment, judgment maybe. That’s what I would’ve gotten from any other adult, but not her. It makes me think she might know something about what it’s like for me here, might understand what I faced day in and day out even before the leak.

“I need to see you in my office,” she repeats, letting me know that part of her statement to Parker wasn’t a lie.

I nod and she only hesitates a second before leading the way. I follow her, but my eyes are glued to the back of Parker’s head as she continues down the hall. She’s almost as high on my shit list as West, but he’s definitely got that first spot on lock.

I’m nearly to the door of the counseling office when I do the exact wrong thing, peering further down the hallway, toward the massive crowd that gathers. And there he is, soaking in all their praise as he walks through the center of it all—KingMidas.

His brothers and teammates surround him, while others rush him like rabid fans. Some for his performance at regionals, I’m sure. Others for a very different performance. Either way, they love him, and he can do no wrong in their eyes.

Their idol.

Their god.

It surprises me he’s not quite focused on them, though. He isn’t even wearing that cocky grin I thought he would be. Instead, he’s straight-faced and searching the crowd like a madman. A search that only ends when he spots me. I should look away but for some reason, I can’t. My eyes are drawn to him. I tried to imagine what I’d feel seeing him for the first time, but it’s indescribable. I’ve hated before, but never like this. It runs so deep.

For a second, I think he’s starting to push his way toward me, but it has to be my imagination. At any rate, when Pryor calls my name and I close myself inside her office, I’m grateful for a temporary haven from the outside world.

Dr. Pryor drops down into her seat and reaches for something in the bottom drawer of her desk. While she digs for it, my eyes are drawn to a stack of rose-colored papers with a bold title on top—THE PINK LIST.

And what’s printed right beneath it?

#1 Blue Riley

There are nineteen other names below mine, but I’m suddenly hearing Parker’s words echoing inside my head, telling me I ‘topped the list’. I had no clue what that meant at the time, but now I’m seeing the statement wasn’t some kind of twisted metaphor.

There really is a freakin’ list.

I reach toward the stack, but not quickly enough. Dr. Pryor swoops in with the swiftness of a ninja, swiping the entire pile into her trashcan. Right after, she hits me with a very stern look.

“It’s just high school nonsense. Don’t let it get you riled up.”

“But I don’t even know what it is,” I explain.

“And you’re better for it.”

I’m sure she believes that, but in a place like this, knowledge is power. The more I know, the better I understand how things work at Cypress Prep.

“I only want to know what The Pink List is. I mean, my name’s on it. Don’t I deserve to know what it’s about?”

That look doesn’t leave her and I’m almost sure she’ll ignore my request, but she surprises me when she takes a single sheet from the trash, placing it on her desk with a heavy sigh.

“It’s a ranked slut list,” she states boldly, not being one to sugarcoat things. “The kids put them out every year around this time. I confiscated this bunch and suspended the kid I caught with them, but fair warning, there will be more.”

I stare at the sheet, at my name printed in plain, bold letters.

“Kids can be cruel, Ms. Riley. But their opinions of you, or any of the other girls on the list for that matter, means very little in the big scheme of things. I need you to promise me this won’t break your focus. I’m doing everything I can to—”

“I’m focused,” I cut in, crumpling the sheet as I meet her gaze. Sure, I keep my face expressionless, but in truth, seeing this crushes me just a little more.

Dr. Pryor holds my stare a moment, perhaps searching for insincerity, but she’ll never find it. I’ve stuffed all the bad things down as deep as they can be buried.

“Well, I’m glad you’re still up for a fight,” she continues, “because that’s exactly what it’ll take to get these scholarships back on track.”

The next moment, she slaps my file on her desk and I zero in on the word stamped dead in the center, bright red letters that read: PROBATION.

My heart sinks reading it.

“I was given orders from administration to take action this morning and, unfortunately, my hands are tied.”

“But I … I don’t understand.”

I’m trying not to freak out, but that ship has already sailed.

Dr. Pryor crosses one leg over the other, leaning into her seat. “I warned you when you arrived that you’re under a microscope. They don’t care about the details surrounding that video. All they see is a blight on the school’s public rep. A blight inflicted by a student from outside district lines, no less. Unfortunately, this incident has labeled you a liability.”

“They can’t do this,” I choke out, feeling my throat tighten as tears threaten to fall.

“They can and they have,” she retorts. “All they needed was a reason.”

I should probably be embarrassed knowing she, and all the staff, have seen the footage, but I’m too distraught by that single word stamped on my file to care.

Probation.

My eyes burn from fighting to keep my composure, but I force myself to meet Dr. Pryor’s gaze.

“And what about West? Is he even getting a slap on the wrist?”

“Barely,” she says outright, again not sugarcoating a thing. “His parents are tight with Headmaster Harrison’s family and, from what I’ve heard, Mr. Golden got out ahead of this pretty quickly, clearing West of any and all responsibility.”

“What the fu—” I catch myself, but not the tears. They’re flooding my eyes and, finally, one streams down my cheek.

The anger and hatred I feel for him multiplies exponentially, and I swear I’m mad enough to actually spit fire right now.

Dr. Pryor leans forward, resting both elbows on the edge of her desk while I wipe my face.

“I hate to pile more onto your plate than I already have, but… there’s something else we need to discuss.” She pauses and I imagine it’s only to give me a chance to focus.

“What is it?”

“Semifinals,” she says flatly. “They’re coming up quickly and, in light of recent events, we have to keep to our aggressive approach, with you being as involved as possible. However, if you’re not up for it, we’ll have to think of something else for you to get involved in.”

The thought of it has my stomach twisting in knots. “How soon do you need an answer?”

Her expression is remorseful. “I’m afraid there’s no time to delay. If you’re not up to it, you’ll have to be replaced.”

So, not only do I have a tough decision to make, I have to make it right now.

Backed into a corner, I can only nod and wipe more tears when they come.

“Doesn’t sound like I have much choice, so I guess the answer is yes.”

Pryor stares and I feel her sympathy even if her expression rarely reflects it.

“Listen,” she says quietly. “This hand you’ve been dealt, it isn’t fair. But it’s yours. So, you can sit here and let this break you, or you can pick yourself up, refocus, and tackle this head-on. While I can’t promise it’ll all be okay, I can promise that I’ll stay in the fight as long as you do.”

The only response I can muster is a small nod.

“It’s not fair that this is all falling on you,” she says sympathetically. “Trust me, I’m madder than the devil and if I thought it’d make a difference to march into Headmaster Harrison’s office myself, I’d do it in a heartbeat. But we have to be smart about this, Blue. You and I are cut from the same cloth. We see their world from the outside in, see the way they advocate for one another. I’m willing to stay in the ring for you, but I can’t go to Harrison, or anyone else, without something tangible.”

Her tone is grave, making it clear how serious the situation is. Although, I never doubted as much.

“If you were set up, if this video was some sort of bullying tactic, I need to know. If West did this to hurt you, even evidence that would bring his character into question would be huge,” she adds. “So, while I’m conducting my own investigation, I need you to keep your eyes and ears open. In order to clear your name and paint you as the victim you are, we have to prove that West isn’t the boy next door, like his father has everyone thinking. Do you understand?”

She has no idea how much I understand. I know, perhaps better than anyone, that West is anything but sweet and innocent, anything but the wholesome athlete local media portrays him to be.

“I understand,” I finally answer. “If I hear anything I think you could use, I won’t hesitate.”

@QweenPandora: Well, The Pink List is out and no surprise who’s number one. But I, for one, propose that we consider foregoing this tradition moving forward. I mean, does no one else deem the idea of labeling girls in town as sluts a tad archaic?

No?

Just me?

Either way, it’s out there for now and twenty young women just had their hopes dashed of ever being seen as virginal trophy wives. Sorry, girls, but everyone knows your secret.

Whether those secrets are true or not.

C’est la vie.

Later, Peeps.

—P