10. Chapter 10
Chapter ten
Bexley
I n Cedar world, detention means sitting at the desk doing extra study work.
But apparently, at the Willowbrook Academy, it means free labor.
No wonder the fuckers are rich.
As soon as I stepped into the assigned classroom, the teacher had shoved a bucket of supplies at me. My job for the next hour is to repair some desks and tables. Which, if you ask me, makes no sense.
I'm all for repairing things to extend its life, but these folks don't care about that. They will happily buy new equipment, just not until I've attempted to fix someone else's mess and destroy it even further.
I notice that I haven't been given any actual power tools to fix them—literally just superglue, sandpaper, and coating. But judging by the state of this current desk, no amount of glue in the world is going to fix it.
About halfway through the detention, the teacher, Mrs. Smythson, announces she's going to use the restroom and threatens a punishment worse than death if I even consider taking off in her absence.
Rolling my eyes, I don't address the threat, continuing on with my ridiculous task. When footsteps walk into the room a few minutes later, I jump when the voice doesn't match.
"On the dirty ground where you belong, Duchess."
I peek over my shoulder, finding an amused Hunter in the doorway. "Duchess?" I snort.
He smirks. "Just to remind you of your place here. They are below Kings in the hierarchy, just in case you weren't aware."
"Well done on having basic knowledge, Hunter. I'm thrilled for your achievements."
Turning back to the desk, I try to ignore the footsteps as they get closer, until the asshole places his foot on my lower back.
Hell. No.
Spinning around, I launch to my feet, glaring at him. "Don't fucking touch me, Lannister, or I'll break your foot."
"I'd like to see you try, Duchess ."
A moment of frustration overpowers me, and I shove my hands into his chest, sending him backwards. Immediately, his eyes darken. Two large steps toward me and I find myself torso to torso with Hunter Lannister.
"What's wrong?" I goad. "Don't like being touched?"
His jaw hardens as he stares daggers at me, but I just straighten up further, refusing to look away.
I slip my hand behind my back, squeezing the tube in my palm as I count to five in my head and calm the wave of emotions. He doesn't get to come in here and torment me—he and his father can go to Hell. This whole situation is their fault, and I'm not about to bend over backwards and let him intimidate me.
"You're worthless, Spencer. You'd be lucky to touch me."
Walking over to Smythson's desk, I drop the tube and sandpaper on it, dusting my hands. Hunter watches me carefully as I approach him again, narrowing his eyes.
"Is that a fact?" I ask casually.
He nods. "I would never allow someone like you the honor of touching me. You're not worth my time."
"And yet, here you are."
Hunter shoots me a wicked smile. "Just doing my civic duty to make sure you don't fuck up anything while unsupervised."
"Ahh," I say thoughtfully, nodding. "Does this count?"
My hands shove him again, but we've switched positions. Hunter stumbles back, this time catching himself on my little renovation project. He grips the side of the desk with one hand as he steadies himself, hovering over the top. I step forward, slamming my hands down on his upper thighs. The movement startles him for a moment, forcing him to put his weight on the desk to regain his balance. There's a small sense of satisfaction at my handiwork and repairs as the desk somehow doesn't buckle and collapse under his weight, before his hands quickly whip out and snap around my wrists painfully.
"I'll fucking end you," he hisses, squeezing so hard that my bones start screaming in pain.
But my face remains expressionless, unwilling to let him see that he's hurting me. That's what he wants, after all.
"You can try." I repeat his words back to him. "But I don't think you'll get very far ."
Hunter goes to stand, to tower over me, except…
I can't help but laugh like an insane person at the sudden panic on his face.
Walking over to the corner of the room, I scoop up my bag from the floor, stopping at the teacher's desk. Picking up the tube of superglue again, I hold it up. "You know, I might just keep this. Seems to work really well."
"You fucking vicious bitch!" Hunter yells, the whole desk now an ass attachment. It's completely off the ground, the adhesive stuck to his black pants which has him stumbling to find a new center of gravity.
"That's right," I agree, swinging my bag over my shoulder. "And don't forget it. Good luck getting the desk off your pants. I'm sure Mrs. Smythson will give you a hand when she returns."
My laughter drowns out his curses as I head out the door. Because judging by the look on Hunter's face, Mrs. Smythson is now long gone for the day.
Now that we'd all but declared war, I decided it was time to bring in the cavalry.
Tuesday morning, I hunted down someone from Cedar to escort me to the field. Given it was before first period, I was surprised to find someone so easily—Millie.
She jumped at the chance to come on a mission— her words, not mine.
We made sure to arrive early to the locker rooms, so I could change into my gym clothes and give my backpack to Mills to guard during first period.
While standing around waiting for the rest of the class, the usual taunts and catcalls started. But my focus was elsewhere, waiting for it.
"Nice ass, Spencer," Rylan calls out with a laugh.
Next to me, Sophia shakes her head. "Ignore him."
"I am," I reply.
When Coach Carter splits us into groups, I'm happy to be placed with Sophia. The two of us jog at a glacial pace, glaring at the cheerleaders as we pass their practice spot.
The comments don't get any better—from the men or the women—which just solidifies my motivation.
At the end of class, I pause on the track, watching as the men head into the locker room. Rylan shoots me a wink before disappearing out of sight, and this time, I'm ready to go for the kill.
"Soph, could you do me a favor?"
"Sure!" she answers happily somehow, breathing heavily through dry-retching sounds.
I cross my arms as my voice drops low. "Don't let anyone in, okay?"
Sophia gives me a look of pure confusion, but I don't elaborate, merely smiling before I stalk straight into the male locker room.
The layout is nearly identical to ours, and it takes about three seconds for the men to react when they spot me.
"Girl!" one yells, apparently forgetting he co-exists with them every day.
"Out!" I shout back, glaring at all of them.
They share a look between them as if to ask if I'm being deadly serious. I pick up an abandoned towel—because men are messy as fuck—and whip one of them in the ass. "Now!"
I like to think it's the look on my face that persuades them to listen. One by one, they grab their stuff, exiting to the field.
When they are all gone, my eyes fall on the closed door of the shower stall, stepping forward. The water is running, the sound of someone moving around inside the cubicle.
I walk over to his locker, which, of course, has his own name personalized on it, and start going through his things.
Completing phase one of my plan, I decide against stealing his cell. I have no desire for his number, but something else grabs my attention. Slipping the little black card into my bra, I walk over and slam my hand on the cubicle door.
"Yo, what?" Rylan snaps back. "I'm showering."
"You need it," I say back, holding in a laugh. I can picture him tensing up in surprise, the shower quickly turning off.
"What the hell are you doing in here, Spencer?" he growls.
Snorting, I turn away and start heading back to the entrance without a word.
When I emerge through the doors, I'm not surprised to find the group of guys still waiting, some only in towels and staring daggers at me—likely pissed at themselves for listening to my demand.
Sophia gives me a bewildered look, before bursting out into a fit of laughter. "Fuck. Fuck! I'm dying."
"Do you have your cell?" I ask her. She nods, handing it to me and I flick up the camera app.
There's a string of loud, booming curses from inside the locker room, and less than two minutes later, a steaming Rylan storms out.
In my booty shorts.
"Nice ass, Astor!" I mock, snapping a picture.
He glares at me, the tiny material stretching to unimaginable lengths, looking more like swim briefs than shorts. His eyes rake down my body, landing on his shorts that I'm currently wearing.
I guess he didn't check the trash bin for his uniform slacks.
"Give my fucking shorts back," he angrily orders.
"Nah," I say, amused as a few of his buddies take their own pictures while whistling. "They are quite comfortable. Thanks!"
Grabbing Sophia's arm, I'm barely able to pull her behind me as she hunches over, still cackling wildly. I glance over my shoulder, watching as Rylan tries to give chase, but the shorts wedge into his ass cheeks, causing a huge wedgie.
I wave, grinning as the two of us start running toward the main building. Rylan yells out for us to come back, but our laughter blocks him out, before eventually, we dive through the double doors inside the building.
"That was the best thing I've ever seen," Sophia pants, wiping a stray tear away. "Oh, shit. He's so pissed."
"Good," I mutter, leaning against a locker. "Asshole deserved it. Here's your cell back."
Sophia takes a deep breath, trying to regain a normal level of oxygen intake. "Those guys are going to share the fuck out of those photos. If I were you, I'd call Witness Protection immediately."
My lips twitch into a smile. "I'm not scared of him, Soph. And it's about time someone took them down a few notches."
"Early morning gym was worth that ," she grins, looking at the photo in her camera gallery before hyperventilating with laughter again.
I mull over whether or not to bring up the books but decide to leave it for now. I'm riding a high, and soon, there will be definite retaliation. So, for now, I live in the moment, permanently burning a place in my brain of Rylan Astor in teenie-tiny booty shorts.
There's still one more thing I plan to do. Well, two—but the first needs to happen straight away while I have the chance.
Saying goodbye to Sophia, I retrieve my belongings from Millie and duck into the restroom. After changing, I whip out my cell and google a few key words before I find what I am searching for.
As I tap out the information, I bite my lip to stay quiet, not the least bit surprised when the idea works.
Ha! This is gold.
The little blue checkmark notification appears on the screen, and I snort, covering my mouth as my body shakes.
I warned them.
And I always follow through on my promises.