Her Shame: A Dark Bully Romance (The Forgotten Elites Book 1) Page 13

  I ease myself onto the paper-covered table and she grabs some tools. After a quick exam, she sits back.

  “Well, I don’t see anything particularly wrong with you,” she says. I brace myself for a lecture or worse, for her to call Mr. Peters for counseling.

  “But we often discount the effects that stress and change can have on the body. It’s likely that you’ve just been pushing yourself too hard, dear. Don’t worry, I’ll write you a note excusing you from class today so you can get some rest,” she says with a smile as she pulls out her notepad.

  Her kindness shocks me. This is the first moment of true kindness I’ve gotten from anyone working at Ridgecrest. I don’t know what to say.

  “Oh, don’t look so shocked. It’s my job to take care of you, and that means more than bandages and painkillers,” she says with a wink.

  I fight back tears. “Thank you,” I choke out.

  “Is there anything you need to talk about dear? I’m here to listen if you need it,” she says.

  Where do I even start?

  I open my mouth, but no words escape. My throat traps them, refusing to allow them to exist outside of me.

  All I can think about is the last time I tried to tell someone what I was feeling. I know how that goes.

  I know where that will take me, eventually.

  After a moment of silence, she just smiles at me. “Alright dear, well, you know I’m here if you need me.”

  “Thanks,” I say as I ease myself off her table.

  I hurry out of the admin building as quick as I can—though not quickly enough, it seems.

  I don’t run into Mr. Peters, but I do run into the next worse thing.

  As soon as I walk into the lobby, I run straight into Bridget.

  “Oh, hi, why aren’t you in class?” she asks.

  “I don’t feel well, I just got back from the nurse.”

  Her nose wrinkles up and she takes a step back, her lip sticking out in a pout.

  “Oh, boo, I was going to have you help me with my bio homework but stay away from me if you’re sick,” she says with a sigh. “At the very least, I hope you have some good news for me on the Mr. Peters front.”

  I stare at her blankly for a moment, my momentary panic subsiding when she leans in a little closer and adds, “You know, his ethics class?”

  Oh, thank god.

  For a moment there …

  I shake the thought from my head.

  “Not well,” I reply flatly.

  “Ugh, how did you screw this up? It’s obvious you’re his favorite, this should have been easy,” she says with a frustrated grimace.

  “Look, I know it should have, it just … it didn’t go well,” I say.

  “What the hell does that mean?” Bridget presses.

  I fidget uncomfortably. “He … likes me a little more than I’m comfortable with.”

  Bridget looks confused for a second, then a switch goes off.

  “Oh, did he … make a pass at you?” she asks.

  I don’t know what possesses me to be honest with her. Maybe it’s because, of all the goddamned people here at Ridgecrest, she’s the only one who knows why I’m here to begin with. And that, in turn, has forced her into my confidence more than anyone else.

  So, despite my own instincts shouting for me to deny, deny, deny …

  I nod.

  Bridget sucks in a small breath. “So, what was the problem? Isn’t your thing like … teachers?”

  “No! Ben … the teacher’s aide back then …”

  I stop and shake my head. “That was just a one time thing. A stupid thing. It wasn’t supposed to mean anything. Certainly, doesn’t mean I’m going to throw myself at Mr. Peters now.”

  Not for anything.

  Somehow, Bridget misreads my measured tone.

  “Ugh, you’re such a prude! I need an easy class next semester to balance things out Aubrey. Any chance you can go back?” she presses.

  Suddenly, something inside me starts to boil. All the pressure from school, from Bridget, from the damn voice inside my head, it all starts to explode.

  “No Bridget, I’m not going back, and it’s insane that you would even ask me to!” I shout, bringing the attention of the entire common room straight in our direction.

  I’d barely even realized we’d finished walking all the way back to Mason House.

  Bridget stares at me, shocked. It only lasts a moment though, before she tosses her hair over her shoulder nonchalantly, avoiding eye contact with the now-attentive crowd.

  “Fine, I’ll just have to figure something else out then. Anyways, I shouldn’t be hanging around you if you’re all gross and sick. Let me know when you feel better, I’m gonna be behind on a LOT of homework by then,” Bridget says before she turns and heads upstairs.

  Still as tone-deaf as ever.

  I stand there, suddenly realizing I’m clenching my fist. I release it and feel my breath exhale.

  That felt … good.

  Too bad I know I’ll see the consequences of it soon enough.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Even though I know my words will soon bring some sort of trouble down on myself, the next day, it feels like a cloud has lifted. I wake up early and put on my uniform before Alaska is even up.

  “Man, a day off ready did you some good,” she remarks as she rolls out of bed. She eyes me for a second, but whatever is on her mind … she doesn’t say it.

  And I don’t mind.

  Better that then force me to lie to her.

  “Yeah, I feel a lot better today, honestly,” I say.

  “Yeah, well, that makes one of us,” she says with a groan. “We have that stupid assembly today. I always enjoy that they think someone who makes all their money talking to at-risk kids is someone we’ll aspire to be like.”

  I laugh. “Never really thought about it that way, but you’re totally right.”

  “I’ve never understood the point of these things, I don’t know a single one that’s ever mentioned how they turned their life around after listening to another inspirational speaker,” Alaska chuckles.

  I head off to class with Alaska and we settle into our first lecture. Chase, Sterling, Warren, and Bridget slide in moments before the start of class. Nothing unusual about that.

  Until Warren turns around to look at me a moment, and something about the look on his face …

  I feel that knot in my stomach returning.

  As if sensing my discomfort, Bridget looks over my way and tosses me a sweet smile and a wink.

  Somehow, that makes me all the more nervous. It isn’t in Bridget’s nature to be nice. If she’s acting this way, it’s only because she has something else on her mind.

  “Hey, you okay?” Alaska asks, nudging me.

  “Huh, yeah, I’m fine,” I say. But I’m not.

  I know I’m not.

  And I soon find out why.

  An hour later, we all shuffle into the assembly. Alaska, Clark, and I slide into a row of seats in the large, musty auditorium. There is something about the smell of an auditorium that brings up nauseous memories of countless assemblies, presentations, and cringe-worthy school plays.

  After a brief introduction from the dean, the guest speaker takes the stage, dressed in the pseudo-relatable uniform of a loosely buttoned dress shirt rolled up to his elbows, tailored denim jeans and some sort of trendy sneaker. It’s like every one of them took their fashion advice from the same book called “How to Look Professional Without Intimidating Teenagers.”

  After he throws out some vaguely relatable jokes, he launches into the utterly predictable script. The poor choices he made when he was our age, the dark path he walked, and how once he hit rock bottom, he finally saw the error of his ways, usually wrapped up in a very nice, neat, come-to-Jesus moment.

  After a “stern but loving” plea for all of us to deeply consider who we want to be after we leave this place, the assembly is finally over. Alaska, Clark, and I rise from our seats, and turn
to shuffle out of the aisle.

  But at the end of the aisle, blocking our exit, is Bridget. She’s flanked by the boys, who are snickering quietly.

  I freeze, preparing to run in the opposite direction—but it’s too late.

  Alaska takes the bait, and I have no choice but to stay.

  “Uh, hey Bridget, what’s up?” Alaska asks.

  “Oh! I just wanted to see if you all enjoyed the assembly, especially the part where he talked about his struggles with sexual sin,” she says cloyingly.

  But she’s not talking to Alaska. She’s talking to me—and from the way she keeps her eyes fixed on me like a jackal, she’s making it painfully obvious.

  “Seemed like the pretty normal scare tactic stuff honestly,” I reply carefully. I meet her gaze, searching her face to understand what it is she’s doing.

  I know she’s petty, but surely not petty enough to expose me here and now. For one comment. For refusing her one thing.

  “I don’t know, someone like you should probably pay close attention given … your history,” Bridget says loudly enough to turn the heads of every nearby student.

  Or maybe she is.

  “What are you talking about?” My voice starts to crack as I see Bridget’s sly smile widen.

  Oh no … she wouldn’t …

  “Well, after what happened at your last school, and from what I hear … things haven’t really changed much since you’ve been at Ridgecrest. Your … taste that is.” Bridget throws out every word with careful dramatic pauses, knowing she has the attention of everyone in earshot.

  Beside me, Alaska stiffens.

  For one second, she glances between me and Bridget.

  “Dude, lay off her, we’re all here because we’re screw ups. Why don’t you focus on your own shit instead of Aubrey who just got caught with a little weed?” Alaska says.

  “Oh, so she has been sticking with that story,” Bridget laughs, and I know from the tone of her voice what’s coming next.

  And I also know there’s nothing I can do to stop it.

  “If that were all it was I might, but unfortunately little innocent Aubrey isn’t quite so innocent. Turns out at her last school, she set her sights on a teacher, nearly got him fired after she threw herself at him and basically blackmailed him into dating her.”

  I can feel my face flushing red and every eye in the room boring into me, including Alaska and Chase, who turn to me, shocked.

  “Wait, is that true?” Alaska asks.

  There’s a giant lump in my throat. I open my mouth to answer but nothing comes out.

  “See, she knows she can’t keep lying about some bullshit weed story. Look, I’m sorry to call you out like this Aubrey, but his words about owning up to our sin really hit home for me, and I think it would be good for you to stop lying and face your struggles head on. I’m always here if you need to talk.” Bridget’s voice is syrupy sweet and makes me want to vomit.

  I can hear the whispers of voices echoing around me as the nearby students process what they’ve just heard. Tears well up in my eyes and I look over at Alaska and Clark, who stare at me with bewildered expressions.

  Then, without any conscious instruction from me, I feel my legs start to move.

  I bolt from the auditorium and fly across the quad. My legs carrying me as fast as they can go until I burst into my room at Mason House and slam the door shut. I immediately collapse onto the bed, the tears pouring out of me until I finally fall asleep.

  My worst fears have been realized.

  Now, all I can do, is wait.

  Wait and see just how badly my life has been ruined.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  One refusal.

  That’s all it took.

  I knew Bridget was a loose cannon, but if I’d truly had any idea how loose … I would have just told everyone the truth of myself from the very beginning. At least from the moment she found out and threatened to blackmail me.

  Still, I can’t help but wonder if it was something else that made her do it.

  Surely, it wasn’t my refusal to literally throw myself at our guidance counselor, Mr. Peters.

  It had to be something else.

  But whatever it is, I suppose it doesn’t matter. Not, at the very least, until I find out just what’s going to happen next.

  Now that the truth is out.

  Following the assembly, things quickly go from bad to worse. The first event is the inevitable call into Ms. Hopkins’ office. She stares at me from down her long nose with deep disapproval.

  “I do believe you remember the conversation we had when you arrived, correct? About how you should treat your time here at Ridgecrest?” she asks.

  “Yes, I do,” I say, my legs nervously kicking the bottom of my chair.

  “Well then I’m very saddened to hear of this most recent report on your behavior.”

  “And what is that?” I ask. “Please. I’d love to hear what it is I’m supposed to have done wrong.”

  I’m halfway through kicking myself—not just the chair—for my snappishness, when what Ms. Hopkins says next catches me off guard.

  “It was brought to my attention that you have been flaunting the nature of the circumstances that lead to you coming here to Ridgecrest to you classmates.”

  I’m suddenly leaping to my feet before I even realize it.

  “What? That’s not true!” I yell, head spinning. No, not this. Not again. “I didn’t tell anyone. It was, it was …”

  I trail off, knowing full well that telling on Bridget isn’t going to get me anywhere.

  Ms. Hopkins presses her lips together so tight that they begin to turn white. She picks up a folder from the top of her desk, tapping it once in front of her before peeling back the top cover to take a quick peek.

  “I’m sorry Aubrey, under normal circumstances I would give your claim some thought, but given your past experiences I am inclined to believe this.”

  “But—”

  She doesn’t give me the chance to protest further.

  “Besides, it was another student that came to us,” she says. “Hardly sounds like what a guilty person would do, does it?”

  I grit my teeth as I glare up at her. “No,” I say. “It doesn’t.”

  “Needless to say,” she continues, her tone sharper than before, “Now that the truth of why you’re here is out, we will have to consider what other actions need to be taken to ensure you remain on track during your remaining time here, however long, or short, that may turn out to be.”

  “So, then the sisters …”

  She lets out a small breath. “Contrary to our reputation,” she says, with a slight hint of annoyance in her voice, “we are not a nanny school. As such … although The Sisters of Virtue required you to sign an NDA in order to attend here, I have no intention of informing them. If they find out and wish to seek damages … well then. That’s up to them.”

  I sit back down, the wind taken out of my sails.

  So, I won’t be expelled right away. That’s something.

  Though whether or not that something is worth having to face the rest of my Ridgecrest classmates now that the truth—as well as this most recent misunderstanding—is out, remains to be seen.

  “And my parents?”

  At that, her face does soften a little. She shoots one short look toward the door, and this time when she speaks, her voice is quieter as well.

  “For now, I’m not saying anything. Just … just keep yourself out of trouble from here on out.”

  “I swear, I didn’t do anything,” I plead, but she just straightens back up.

  “Well, then let this be a lesson to not put yourself into positions that may put your integrity into question my dear,” Ms. Hopkins says firmly. “Oh, and also, we will be re-assigning your volunteer work for the semester. We would prefer you work on-campus here in the admin office with me for the remainder so we can ensure there are no more shall we say, ‘slip ups.’ It wouldn’t look good to our gracious p
artners if they thought we were putting their staff in danger.”

  It’s like a slap in the face, that last bit.

  Putting their staff in danger. The way Ms. Hopkins says it, it sounds like I just admitted to robbing my old teacher’s aide, not kissing him.

  I feel myself go numb, as it becomes very clear there is nothing that I can do to change her mind. The helplessness crashes over me like a wave.

  No one trusts a whore. Even if you’re not one.

  “Now then, I expect model behavior from you for the remainder of your time here. If I catch even so much as a whiff of improper behavior, we will have to terminate your studies here, Sisters of Virtue or not. Is that understood?”

  I nod slowly as she stares at me.

  “Very good,” she says “now please return to your classes. Remember, model student.” Ms. Hopkins emphasizes with an overly cheery final tone.

  As if being a model student is even a possibility anymore.

  I know how this goes.

  Once a scarlet letter, always a scarlet letter.

  Ridgecrest is supposed to put the troubles of high school in the past, but what happens if the troubles happen at Ridgecrest? Where are we supposed to put them then?

  For one brief moment when I step out of Ms. Hopkin’s office, I consider what would happen if I didn’t go back to class.

  What if … what if I just ran away?

  It’s not the first time I’ve considered it. Back when I was caught with Ben, life was … hard … for a while after that. As if it’s ever stopped being hard. I was lucky that Sisters of Virtue allowed me to graduate at all. Even then, I wasn’t sure my parents would let me.

  Ridgecrest was kind of a savior, as much as I hate the thought of it.

  It kept Brown from hearing about what happened.

  But now … now even if I’m allowed to stay at Ridgecrest, will I be allowed to take up my deferred position there?

  And if not, can I stand to go back home to live with my parents? Because that’s the only other option I have.

  I’ve never had a job. I don’t have any money of my own. The closest thing I have to friends—if they still want to call themselves that now—are here.