Hannaford Prep: The Complete Series Read online

  I watch as Harley writes neatly spaced notes flawlessly. Unlike every other rich boy, I've ever had to sit next to, he doesn’t spread out obnoxiously onto my side of the desk. If he wasn't tied to the devil that is Avery Beaumont, I might fall for him.

  But I only have to remember the stink of urine on all of my belongings to shudder and swear off him.

  When we are dismissed from chemistry, I have to take a minute before I can get up and head to choir. Harley looks at me curiously, and then falls into step with me. I shoot him a look of my own, but I don't say anything. Avery ignores me completely and tucks her arm into Harley's.

  I make it three steps out of the room before another random junior I've never seen asks me out. He words it better than the last guy, but it's still pretty obvious he's after sex. Avery's giggle is infuriating, but I manage not to hit this guy. I just tell him I'm not interested. Four more steps, and I see another junior make a beeline towards me.

  “Fuck, am I going to have to elbow my way to class?” I mutter, and Harley grins at me.

  “Such popularity! Maybe you should try and move up to the junior class instead of slumming it with us, Mounty,” says Avery as she breezes forward, tugging Harley with her. He grumbles at her. “If she flattens another guy, I want to see it. If she does it to Joey, I will wank over it for the rest of my life.”

  I blush, and then I curse myself for it.

  “If she hits Joey, she'll be dead before the week is out.” Avery's tone is no-nonsense, monotone, and dark. I shiver.

  The Beaumonts are not the type of people to fuck with without serious consideration. I need a plan.

  Blaise Morrison is in my choir and voice development class.

  I avoid him like the plague. It's easy because he stays attached to Avery, and I was already trying to stay as far away from that girl as possible. They're such close friends, it's easy to see in the way they banter with each other and their casual touches.

  I had been planning on speaking to Miss Umber about doing my solo privately but, embarrassingly, I find I can't even speak in Blaise’s presence. It's humiliating and humbling, and I consider leaving the school for the very first time since arriving in the hellhole.

  How can he affect me so much?

  But I know the answer to that already. He's every single one of my fantasies come to life and walking the halls of Hannaford with me. I can't look at him without thinking about all the times I've listened to his crooning or sung along at the top of my voice. I used to listen to him and imagine what my life would be like if I were brave enough to start a band and run away from all my troubles. But I'm not brave. Not that type of brave, anyway.

  We make it through warm-ups without a hitch, and then Miss Umber breaks us up into groups to work through the vocal exercises. I'm with Lauren, who smiles at me shyly, and two other girls I don't really know. It's easy enough to distract the other girls and not actually do any singing myself. Lauren is good, but not as good as I am, and the other two can harmonize well. I'm kind of shocked to realize how much fun I'm having. I wish so badly that I could sing, but the loss hurts less when I can laugh with the other girls.

  “Oh god, he's about to sing!” Dahlia says. Well, squeals is more accurate.

  I glance over, and Avery is grinning up at Blaise as he starts with his vocal work. I try not to show on my face what his voice is doing to me because honestly, I've never been so turned on in my life. It's wildly unfair and cruel.

  All the other groups have stopped to listen to him as well, and Miss Umber is blushing at Blaise as she watches him over her glasses. She's looking at him like she'd eat him right up. Are all the teachers at this school predatory, or is that just the intense allure of Avery’s guys?

  Speaking of Avery, she is enjoying being in the thick of it. Her hand is curled around his arm possessively. I roll my eyes at her, and Lauren giggles next to me. She's a sweet kid. I wish she were a bit braver, and we could actually be friends.

  “Any other songs you’d like, Claire?” he says to Miss Umber with a flirty wink.

  I could just die.

  If he ever does that in my direction, I will expire.

  “O-oh, no, that's quite alright! How was your touring during the break? Did you get to spend some time at home with your family?” She blushes her way through her questions, and then sits down with his group. The room stays quiet. He's the focus of everyone's attention, and he grins easily.

  “It was great! I did a lot of Europe and a little bit of Asia. We focused on smaller, more intimate venues, so I could look into the crowd and see people rather than just a giant, writhing mass. My parents came out to me, so I did get to see them. It's hard being young and still going to school. I have to try and fit a lot into my year.”

  Miss Umber nods along with him, her eyes affectionate.

  “I'm ready to be here, though. I missed my friends and I need a rest.”

  “Only you would see school as a rest,” Avery scolds him, smiling like a Cheshire cat.

  “Well, I'm expecting to sleep at least ten hours a night, and my liver is going to have a chance to empty out a bit, so yeah, it's a break. You never realize how precious sleeping on a stationary bed is until you're trapped on a bus for months,” he says with another wink at Miss Umber. I’m starting to worry the poor woman’s heart wouldn’t be able to cope with all the blushing she’s doing.

  “Trapped, like you don't love every second of it! Last year you were the worst to be around because you'd been home for too long. I give it a week and you'll be planning your next move.”

  He laughs, and his whole face lights up when he looks at Avery. I've never been so jealous in all my life.

  “I'd kill for a boy to look at me like that,” whispers Lauren, and I smile at her. Dahlia nods frantically, and Jessie hums in agreement. At least I'm not the only girl feeling this way.

  Chapter Five

  I’ve decided I’m going to try every breakfast option at least once, so I’m sure I’m eating the best while I’m here. I’m sitting in the dining hall enjoying a giant stack of pancakes when Joseph Beaumont sits down beside me. I stiffen up, but I try not to make it obvious. I fail.

  “Relax, Mounty. I'm here to chat,” he says, and his voice is like dark malt liquor. Rich, seductive, dangerous.

  “Is there something I can help you with?” I put down my cutlery and stare across the table at him. He's attractive like his brother, but his features are sharper, like you could cut yourself on him and bleed out in seconds.

  “I've heard that you've been getting some unwanted attention.”

  Right. I'd been propositioned by eleven juniors this week, and it was only Wednesday.

  Eleven.

  So far, I've only had to punch that one guy, but I'd had a few more close calls. It was beginning to make the short walks between classes unbearable.

  My eyes narrow at him. “Do you know why this is happening to me?”

  He laughs and leans back in his chair, crossing his arms. He's so similar to his brother that it's jarring. I had been tutoring Ash for long enough that I could pick out his mannerisms, his little ticks, so seeing them on Joseph was weird. I glance over his head to see the twins and the other two boys walk into the room. Avery frowns deeply when she sees Joseph sitting with me, and Harley looks like he wants to come over and interrupt. The students around us are quickly finishing up their breakfast and moving away.

  “I know that it's going to stop. I've made it clear to the boys that if you were interested in a quick fuck, you would have taken one of them up on the offer by now. You won't be bothered by them again.” It's a nice thing to do, and so I'm instantly wary. He's sitting there casually, like he owns the school. Fuck, maybe his family does own it.

  “What do I owe you for that favor?”

  His smile is all teeth. I'm sure he thinks he's terrifying, but I've befriended the Jackal. I'm sure Joey is a kitten by comparison. “I'd like you to come to a party next week. I'm hosting. It's unusual for anyone to mi
ss my parties, and yet you haven't been to any of them yet.”

  I have no interest in getting drunk with spoiled brats and bullies. Still, if it takes one night of hanging around these idiots so I can walk to class alone, it’s worth it, right? I hope so.

  “Okay, sure. Why not.”

  “Great. Do let me know if you have any more troubles with students. I know my sister can be a little cunt when she's forced to share her toys.”

  I glance over at Avery and find the whole lot of them are watching our every move. This sibling rivalry was dangerous; best to steer clear of it. “I'm fine. It takes a lot to bother me.”

  Joseph smiles again and stands up.

  “Oh, I'm counting on it,” he says with a wink, then leaves me alone.

  What a dramatic asshole, I think as I tuck back into my food.

  He's true to his word. I can feel the eyes of the other students on me, but no one approaches me for the rest of the day.

  I'm not looking forward to my tutoring session with Ash after my conversation with his brother. I still meet with him three times a week for an hour, though I have no idea how much I'm actually helping him. He's an infuriating student. We go around and around in circles, and when I'm ready to strangle the life from him, he writes out the answers perfectly, as if he's known all along.

  I arrive early to set up, like I always do, but this time Ash has beaten me there. He's brooding, all dark and frowning, and when he sees me coming, he crosses his arms and glares at me.

  “If you're going to be like this the whole hour, I'm just going to go study in my room.”

  “If you think my brother wants to be your friend, then you are a dense Mounty slut,” he snaps at me.

  Oh, the ways I would break this boy if I didn't desperately need my scholarship. I sit, because I also need the credits I get for these sessions, and then I fold my own arms to mirror him.

  “It is such a joy to spend this time with you. Rest assured that I don't trust a single hair on the heads of any human bearing the name Beaumont.”

  His eyes narrow, and he leans in toward me. “Then why did you agree to go to his party?”

  I roll my eyes at him and start setting up my books. I have assignments due in every damn class, so I don't have the time to explain myself to this ass. “What do you need help with today? I know you must have the same economics stuff due, so let's work on that.”

  “Fuck economics, why did you agree?”

  He is the single most infuriating human I have ever met. Even Avery is easier to deal with, all smiles and knives in the back. How do you inform the privileged that you're just trying to survive when they can't see the danger from their vantage point? I want to kick him under the table.

  “Maybe I don't enjoy having guys follow me around all day begging me for sex. Maybe I'm starting to get worried I'll have to fight one of them off who won't take no for an answer. Maybe it's easier to go to a party than be on my guard all the fucking time. Now, do you want to do the assignment or not?”

  We were starting to attract the attention of the other students around us. I'd rather not be at the center of another Hannaford scandal, but Ash is oblivious. “Go to the school staff, then. Go tell your student advisor. Do anything else.”

  “Why do you care? Your sister has been my biggest torturer, so why are you telling me to stay away from Joseph and not Avery?” I hiss at him, all my patience gone.

  The glare he levels at me is his best yet. A shiver runs down my spine, but I refuse to back down. “Don't ever compare them.”

  “Why not? She's just as cruel as he is.”

  He snaps forward in his chair and grabs my tie to yank me forward. Our faces are so close together, I can feel his breath on my lips, and I fight the urge to lick them. Or lick his lips. God, I need some serious therapy. I wonder if my scholarship covers that.

  “My sister is perfect. She is selfless, smart, and the kindest person I know. Joey is a sociopath. Don’t you ever forget it,” he whispers, and I feel the words on my skin.

  He doesn't let me go. If anything, he pulls me closer, and I can feel the heat of his lips on my own. My face flushes. My legs are trembling, and he smells unbelievably good. Maybe all my time spent with the Jackal has damaged me permanently, because lusting after a guy who despises me so deeply must mean I’m irreparably broken.

  “Don't go to the party, Mounty.”

  I roll my eyes, and he lets me go suddenly. I slump back into my seat like a rag doll and try not to think about how hard my nipples are underneath my thin blouse. I straighten up and roll my shoulders. I glance over to see the librarians eyeing us both, but they don't approach. How easy life must be with Beaumont as your last name.

  Ash looks completely unaffected and just opens his textbooks. He's starting with history, because he's a pompous brat, who won't do anything I ask him to. He's pulling out his notes when I finally snap. “You know he tells people you're fucking Avery. He's told half the school that you four are having some big orgy every night, and someday he’ll be an uncle to a deformed, incestuous child.”

  Ash stops and grins. I think it's the first true smile I've ever seen on him. Clearly, he has a twisted sense of humor if he finds that funny.

  “And you believe him? Are you asking me if I'm fucking my own sister?” His voice is sultry and seductive and promises dark things. I swear he can see how hard my nipples are, and he's messing with me.

  “No. I just thought you should know.”

  Ash doesn't look up from his notes. “I'm well aware of the depths of Joey’s depravity. I do have to live with him occasionally.”

  It’s hard to choose between the Beaumont boys. Which devil should I trust? Neither of them is the obvious answer, but I have to make a decision on whether or not to go to the party. What’s the worst that can happen to me there? A lot of things, but how many of those could actually break me? Very little.

  I feel like no matter what I choose, I'm going to get burned.

  The rest of the week is so blissfully quiet that I should have known something was up.

  Harley doesn't speak to me in class, Ash is quiet and studious during our library sessions, I barely see Avery, and I manage to completely avoid seeing Blaise altogether. If I could keep this up, I would have a great year.

  I eat dinner by myself, reading the Iliad for Lit while I chew. I can zone the entire room out that way and get ahead with my homework for the weekend. I might even be able to take a day off and sleep for the whole day.

  That would be incredible.

  I make it to my room with no interruptions, and I grab my pajamas to head in to have a shower before bed. The group bathroom is empty, and I feel as though I've won the lottery. I take my time, washing my hair and shaving every inch of unwanted hair until I'm feeling like a smooth goddess. When I still lived with my mom, we never had hot water, so showers were rare and quick. During winter I'd only really shower at school after gym. It was gross to think about now, but it was all I could do at the time. Once I got moved to the group house, showers were hot but on timers, so the water would shut off after two minutes. Still, it felt like a luxury to me to have those two minutes every day.

  Most of the girls in my dorm shower twice a day and can easily spend twenty minutes under the hot spray. I find it shocking and wasteful, but none of them even realize the small luxuries they have.

  After the fourth passover with the soap, I know I'm just lingering to enjoy the warmth soaking through my skin into my bones. I'm as clean as I'm ever going to get. I reach for my towel and find it's not in the stall with me. I frown because I'm pretty sure I brought it in with me, but I open the door anyway.

  My bag is gone.

  I have no towel, no clothes, absolutely nothing to dry myself with or to cover my naked body.

  Fucking Avery, I think, but there's nothing I can do about it. I start to shiver now that I'm out of the heat of the water. This is bad.

  I can feel tears prickling at the corners of my eyes, but I refuse to
cry. Losing my clothes and having to walk back to my room naked isn't great, but I've survived worse. I can feel the panic start in my chest, and I count backwards from a hundred. In French, just to really keep my mind busy.

  This isn't so bad. Foster care meant I was forced to shower around other girls all the time. It's practically the same thing, except the other girls will probably be standing around laughing. Oh god.

  Cent, quatre-vingt-dix-neuf, quatre-vingt-dix-huit…

  I’m not ashamed or embarrassed by my body. I used to be scrawny, too thin and lanky for my frame, but the months here at Hannaford have put some meat on my bones. I have boobs for the first time in my life too, nice ones and big enough that they hide the scars on the left side. I didn't need Avery seeing that and digging around in my past. I am more than a little shy about how many scars I have. My leg is mottled with red and white raised skin after all the operations to put it back together. I have a burn on my hip that I can't think about without triggering my PTSD, and then there's the two perfect circles on my shoulder. Bullet in, bullet out. Would these girls know what a healed bullet wound looks like? Would they question me about it?

  Could I handle them asking without lashing out?

  When I'm sure I won't cry or scream at these rich bitches, I open the bathroom door and start walking back to my room. It's maybe thirty steps, and I force myself not to run.

  The giggling starts the second the door opens.

  I don't look down at myself, I don't look over at the giggling to see which girls are watching, don't cross my arms over my boobs.

  Head held high, looking straight ahead, fuck the lot of them.

  The giggles sputter out. I'm not doing what they expect me too . I'm not crying or breaking down. I'm not screaming at them.

  I make it to my door and find my bag sitting on the floor. I bend down to pick it up, and then I catch Avery’s eye as I straighten. She's not laughing or smiling. She's just watching me. Her eyes are cold on mine, and I think about how Ash described her.