35. Izabella
IZABELLA
I’m barely containing the rising panic that started to build inside of me the moment I took Gulliver’s hand and climbed out of the limo. Somehow, in the span of ten days, I’ve gone from being the girl that no one saw to the one that they can’t stop staring at, and right now, all I want to do is run to my darkroom and lock myself inside, away from all of this interest.
The only thing keeping me even slightly grounded is Gulliver and the guys. I shouldn’t be relying on them as a lifeline, but I just can’t help trusting them, even though a part of me is constantly warning me that I shouldn’t. The guys are all incredibly good actors. I saw that the day Gulliver fake proposed to me, and they all played along like they’d known me forever.
But I’m not sure if they could keep that act up for this length of time, especially not while we all shared the same space and spent all of our time as a group. Truthfully, the more time I spend with them, the less I believe that they’re playing me. And if everything they’ve said about me being one of them is true, then maybe it’s okay to trust them like my gut is telling me I can.
Things between Gulliver and me almost feel too real, and I have no idea where that leaves me. Every time he calls me his fiancée or touches me like he craves our connection the way I’m starting to, the more dependent on him I feel. The sex is incredible, but what I feel for him is more than just a physical connection, and I’m terrified to admit that, because if I do, I know it’ll destroy me when this is all over.
When the first bell rings, I’m grateful to get away from my new homeroom. The teacher made me stand up and introduce myself like I was the new kid, not someone who’s been attending the school for three years already. She even went so far as to congratulate Gulliver and me on our engagement. Which is painfully ironic given that she’s been teaching me history for the last two years and has never once uttered a word to me or even glanced in my direction.
My first class of the day is now English with Gulliver, Davis, and my sister. Despite how furious she’d looked over my newly-appointed Elite status, she hadn’t seemed shocked to see me with my entourage of guys. In fact, she looked almost grudgingly impressed that I had the balls to so blatantly refuse to fall back into the role of convenient Penelope stand-in that our parents have forced me into.
My cell beeps with a text message just as we hit the hallway, and I pull it out and quickly open it, already guessing what it’s going to say.
Mom – As we discussed, you will be attending all of your sister’s english, math, and science classes.
That’s it. No please or thank you, no platitudes to soften her order, because that’s what it is—an order meant to be obeyed without question.
Scoffing coldly, I lift my cell up and show the message to the guys.
“Wow, your mom is a bitch,” Thorn says dryly.
“Yes, she is,” I agree with a chuckle, loving that I’m laughing about this and not blindly doing her bidding out of fear of having to deal with the repercussions of disobeying her.
“Do you think Penelope will still expect you to go in her place?” Gulliver asks quietly.
“I don’t know.” I shrug. “Probably.”
“Then we need to make sure everyone knows it’s you in the classroom and not her. Do you know where she goes when you’re taking her classes?” Gulliver asks, a conspiratorial smile spreading across his lips.
“She used to sit in on my classes when we first started doing this, but now I think she goes to the senior common room,” I tell him.
“I wish we had English with you guys. I want to see her face when she realizes you’re in all her classes now,” Kip whines, leaning forward and kissing me on the cheek before he and a laughing Thorn turn off toward their own class.
“Have fun,” Thorn calls over his shoulder, blowing me a playful kiss.
“Are you going to reply to your mom?” Gulliver asks. “You could tell her to go fuck herself. I would if it were me.”
“Nope.” I giggle. “I’m going to ignore her; it’ll drive her nuts.”
The moment our teacher, Mr. Jones, walks into the classroom, Gulliver makes a big deal of leading me over to him and introducing me, loud enough that no one in the room could possibly miss it. My new desk is in the back row, situated between Gulliver and Davis. With our backs to the wall, we have the perfect view of the rest of the class, and my eyes linger on my sister’s empty desk, three rows across, three rows back—just like every other class, so we never sit in the wrong seat.
“Miss Rhodes, would you happen to know where your sister is?” Mr. Jones asks loudly.
“I’m sorry, sir, I don’t know. We don’t have the same homeroom,” I tell him with a warm, trustworthy smile.
“I think I saw her in the senior common room, maybe she lost track of time,” Davis suggests, studiously reading the textbook he has open on the desk in front of him, fighting to hide his shit-eating grin.
“Mr. Aldrich, perhaps you would be kind enough to go and look for her and let her know that if she’s not in her seat in the next five minutes, she’ll receive a tardy mark,” Mr. Jones says, a tight smile on his lips.
“Of course, Mr. Jones. It’d be my pleasure,” Davis says, pushing out from behind his desk and happily jogging out of the classroom, his face stoic until he’s out of the door when he flashes us a cheesy thumbs-up and disappears to retrieve my sister.
There are very few times in my life when I truly wish I had a camera, but the look on my sister’s face when she walks back into our English class and spots me sitting next to Gulliver in the back row is one of them.
Just like normal, her hair is poker straight, her makeup soft and ultra-feminine, her lips pink and glossy. She always looks so polished, and it makes me a little wistful that even after being made up and styled by a stylist this morning, I still look a little rough around the edges, like the perfect just rolls off me.
Strangely, in the last three years, I’ve realized that it’s the imperfection that I like the most about myself. If I were perfect, I’d look like her, and that little bit of mussed uniqueness is how I know I’m actually staring at my own reflection.
I fight back a smile as her eyes widen and she glances comically around the room. She looks like she’s making sure she’s in the right classroom, even though Davis is behind her, sporting an infectious grin, as he moves past her and slides into his seat next to mine.
For the first time, I’m the one who is sitting in the middle of the two most influential people in the room, and she’s not. I’m not ashamed to admit I get a kick out of knowing that she probably hates me in this moment.
“Miss Rhodes, please take your seat. I think we’ve waited for you long enough. If you’re late for my class again without a hall pass, I’ll fail you,” Mr. Jones says, his eyebrow arched as he points at her empty desk.
Leaning back, Gulliver slides his arm along the back of my chair. “How does it feel?” he whispers.
I smile, and he smiles back, and we don’t need to say anything else. This is only the start, but so far, revenge is very, very sweet.
My next class is with Kip, and he meets me outside my English classroom, and we walk to statistics together. I take a moment to introduce myself to the teacher, then take the seat beside Kip’s and wait. When Penelope appears, her eyes find me the moment she steps into the room, like she was expecting me to be here. Her shoulders go rigid, and her back stays ramrod straight in her seat as she darts angry looks my way while the teacher delivers the lesson.
The text messages start just before lunch.
Mom – We need to talk, call me.
I ignore it, and another message appears a few minutes later.
Mom – This is not acceptable behavior, call me now!
The next one follows almost immediately.
Mom – You WILL be attending chemistry, no excuses, and we will discuss today’s behavior when the driver collects you this afternoon.
My heart starts to thump erratically when I read the final message. She can’t force me to go home, can she? I don’t ever plan to show them to anyone, but the doctor insisted that I take pictures of my face, stomach, and ribs when Mark took me to see him after my parents attacked me. If I have to, I can threaten to publish them, but it’s my trump card and something I’ll only resort to if I have no other options.
“Are you okay?” Gulliver asks, startling me when he appears at my side.
I’m not entirely sure when it happened, but Gulliver has made himself my safe place, and now that he’s here, all I want to do is to bury myself in his warm, reassuring arms and let him protect me. But I can’t allow myself to become too reliant on him.
The lines in our relationship have blurred so much that I have no idea what we are anymore. Are we enemies, simply using each other, or are we friends? We’re lovers, but sex doesn’t equate to feelings. Somehow it feels like we’re all of those things, but what does it mean when two people are both enemies, friends, and lovers?
“Ghost?” Gulliver calls, grabbing my arm and pulling me to a stop. “What’s going on? Did something happen?”
“My mom’s been texting,” I admit.
“What the fuck did she say to you? Why do you look upset?” he demands, pulling me into his chest and enclosing me in his strong arms.
“I’m fine,” I say, my voice muffled.
“You’re not fine,” he snaps, keeping his arms around me but loosening his hold so he can lean back enough to look down at me. “What happened?”
“Nothing I didn’t expect to happen. I guess I was just hoping she’d feel some remorse about what they did. But she doesn’t, and that shouldn’t surprise me,” I confess, my voice small. “I’m fine. I’m just tired and hungry. Let’s go and get some lunch.”
Pulling back, I try to step away, but he tightens his hold on me, then glances to where the rest of the guys are waiting for us. “Give us a minute,” he tells them.
Once they’ve gone, he moves us from the middle of the hallway, spinning me around so my back is pressed up against the wall. “Now, the truth,” he says softly.
“Honestly, I’m fine. It’s nothing.”
Pinching my chin, he lifts my face up. “I said the truth, Little Ghost.”
Pulling in a deep breath, I exhale sadly. “She sent me a text message demanding that I attend Penelope’s chemistry class this afternoon.”
“And…” he prompts, easily seeing that I’m holding back.
“And she said she wants to discuss my behavior when the driver collects me later,” I blurt.
“Are you scared?” he whispers, his fingers releasing my chin to softly stroke my cheek.
“Yes,” I admit. “But I’m angry and sad too.”
“It’s going to be all right.”
“Is it?” I question.
“I promise, Ghost, together, we’ll make it okay.”
Staring up into his eyes, I search for something but don’t find it. I shouldn’t have allowed myself to rely on him this way, but I think it might be too late. When his lips press against mine, I open my mouth, daring him to take things further and distract my mind with pleasure, but his kiss stays soft and sweet until he eventually pulls back.
“Are we friends?” I blurt, needing to put a label on whatever this is between us.
Running a finger down my cheek, he leans back, scraping his teeth over his lower lip as he fights back a smile. “Yes, Little Ghost, we’re friends.”
“What about the sex?”
Throwing his head back, he laughs in a way I haven’t heard before. It’s loud and wild, and I find myself smiling at him. “I like the sex.”
“I’ve never had sex with a friend before.”
“I know. You were still a virgin this time last week,” he whispers mischievously against my ear.
“I don’t think I know how to have a friends-with-benefits thing. I don’t know the rules,” I confess, my cheeks heating with embarrassment.
His body stills, and the smile falls from his lips. “We’re not friends with benefits,” he says, low and rough.
“I’m sorry. I just…I don’t know the rules about hook-ups.”
“Little Ghost, for a clever girl, you’re being really fucking stupid right now,” he growls.
“But—” Slamming his lips against mine, he silences me, dominating my mouth as he collars my throat, holding me in place while he devours me. My body melts into him, and I part my legs, urging him to get as close to me as he can while he grinds his hard cock against me.
Another growl comes from him as he tears himself away. “Unless you want me to fuck you at school, we need to stop,” he pants raggedly.
I nod, my chest heaving as I actually consider if there’s somewhere we could go. How did I go from asking him if we’re friends to wondering if there’s anywhere in school we could go for a quickie?
“My dirty, dirty Little Ghost.” He chuckles. “Let’s go and eat.”