Chapter seven Bexley
Chapter seven
Bexley
Friday rolls around, and despite pushing myself this week, I’m finally beginning to feel a little better.
We agree with Willowbrook to proceed with our usual fight night. Normally, it would be a no-brainer, especially because of everything that’s happened the past few months being at Willowbrook. But this time, I had found myself hesitating when Tai asked the question.
Tension is high between both academies, everyone on edge since the second fire.
Dean Lannister gave the official confirmation this week that our time at Willowbrook has been indefinitely extended until graduation, with the view—and hope—that when school returns after summer break, Cedar Heights can start fresh at their own setting.
It doesn’t help me or the other seniors, though. The thought of doing our final exams at Willowbrook sucks more than a Dyson, but we already suspected this would be the case.
I’m mindful of unintentionally adding to the growing worry, or shoving the stupid feud back into the forefront of everyone’s minds.
But when Tai suggested I just view it as therapeutic means, I finally caved and said yes.
After all, it would be a shame for the new cage to go to waste.
It’s so pretty and deserving of attention.
I hang at the back of the crowd near the Cedar rooms, watching the cage over the mass of restless bodies. My legs ache too much to stand on the plastic barricade, and Lannister’s antics the other day proved that anyone bumping or touching the healing wounds is pure agony.
I have no idea what the hell that was about. I’m even more confused by the fact I haven’t told anyone about his impromptu visit. Not even Archie—and certainly not Rylan or Tai.
Lannister doesn’t deserve my pity by any means, but for the greater good of the situation, I decided it was best to just ignore it. If that asshole wants to have a nervous breakdown, be my guest. But he can do it on his own time—preferably as far away from me as possible.
Maybe I need to invest in a camera for the front door. I’d probably need a job for that, though.
Not that I haven’t been looking. The moment I was discharged from the hospital, I started applying again, but so far, I’ve been unsuccessful—that’s if anyone even bothers to respond at all. Seriously, just a quick no would be appreciated. Edging is never fun unless it’s in the bedroom.
Speaking of which, my little game of hide and seek tonight seems to have caught the attention of the Kings of Willowbrook.
They are doing their best to act indifferent, but every so often, Rylan and Tai keep randomly scanning their eyes over the Cedar Heights side.
Only one guess needed as to who they are trying to find.
“How are you feeling, Bex?” Archie asks, making his way over to me.
I give him a warm smile. “I’m fine. You?”
“Bex! Did you hear? Mercury is in the microwave again. Argh. I hate when it does that.”
Abby suddenly pops out from behind Arch, clearly being protected by her very own human shield as they move through the crowd. Who said romance was dead?
“What is in the what?”
She laughs. “Mercury is in retrograde. But we say microwave.”
“Because we’re cooked,” Archie answers, attempting to fill me in after I continue to stare at them both cluelessly. “It means shit always goes wrong.”
I glance between them. “Is Mercury the black sheep of the planets? Or are we talking about the metal element?”
Abby nods enthusiastically. “Definitely the black sheep. Everything goes a little haywire in retrograde.”
“Well, that sucks,” I mumble, voice barely carrying over the cheers of the crowd. “Any good luck coming our way instead? You know, lottery wins, magical building repairs. That type of thing?”
She grimaces. “Unfortunately not.”
“Abs, you are meant to be my bringer of good news,” I joke. “Weren’t my career prospects and love life meant to be improving?”
Archie snorts amusedly. “I’d say you’re doing just fine in the love life department.”
I glare at him playfully. “Complexities are not improvements, Archer. I’m exhausted.”
“I bet you are.”
I jab him with my elbow, turning my attention to the fight just ending.
We lost this particular match, but so far, the scoreboard is even.
Though, I don’t feel the usual competitive thrill that comes with winning.
Maybe I’m broken and need to be reset. I’ve heard turning it off and on again works. I wonder if that includes orgasms.
By the end of the night, I actually start to feel some elation, much to my relief. We won the scorecard, and with it, normal Bexley starts to rear her head from the depths of ruin and clusterfuckery.
Though, I’m fairly confident we secured the win because Cedar Heights are just a bit more frustrated than Willowbrook for obvious reasons. You know—our school being set on fire again and all. It’s definitely effective and a real mood killer.
Everyone starts to make their way out of the warehouse with the completion of the night, and I realize being at the back of the pack has one obvious disadvantage…
“Bexley!”
The last few people are just heading out the door when I hear my name being called from the other side of the room. Turning, I spot Tai jumping up and down on the platform, hands waving wildly which earns some odd glances from the tail end of the fleeting crowd.
Rylan and Hunter are sitting on their little thrones, the pair a strikingly peculiar contrast to the energetic blond.
But at the exit of the last person, Rylan breaks into a warm smile—that genuine one he reserves just for me when the masks can come off.
On the other hand, Hunter is choosing to look anywhere but at me.
Clearly, this little decision to call me over was a spur of the moment gesture by Tai, approved and seconded by Rylan.
Lannister appears to be hating life like the tax man is chasing him with a pineapple and a bottle of lube filled with Frank’s RedHot sauce.
“Hey,” I greet warmly, walking over. “Good fight night.” I can’t help the victorious tone to my voice, but it’s more controlled than usual. Still playful and clearly pleased with the result but less gloating.
Sucks to suck, but I’ll give you a hug and let you feel my tits kinda vibe.
Rylan quickly grumbles, “Yeah, well, we’ll get you next time.”
Stepping up onto the platform, it’s the first time I’ve ever set foot on their makeshift tower.
I’m surprised to see it actually gives a decent view of the cage without the obstruction of bobbing heads in the way.
Well, I’m assuming anyway, since we’re the only ones left in the warehouse and I don’t have a crowd to test that theory.
“Aw, do I need to help make you feel better?” I joke, grabbing Rylan’s face in my hands.
The old Rylan would have slapped them away in a moment of fury. But this version, the one I’ve come to adore, leans into my palm with sparkling eyes.
“We’ll kick your ass next time.”
Okay. It might be a softened version without actual violence, but the words are still the same. At least he’s consistent.
“You can try,” I taunt, unable to fight back the smile which he mirrors.
I just start to lean down, drawn to his lips when a pair of hands grab my waist, yanking me backwards off the platform.
“My turn!” Tai grins, slamming his mouth to mine before I can protest. Rylan, with no vocal blockages, very loudly curses.
“Fuck’s sake, T!”
Pulling back slightly, I jump in as referee out of pity—and because it’s entertaining as hell. “Calm your tits and balls. No need to fight over me. Unless you want to do it in the cage. In that case, I’m all for watching that.”
Rylan looks delighted at the idea, smirking when Tai slowly pulls back to glance his way. Not too far, though, still close enough that when Rylan opens his mouth to speak, Tai kisses me again.
At this stage, the cage might definitely be getting some extra use later. Though, if I’m being honest, Tai seems more like a lover rather than a fighter. But he has been known to surprise me from time to time.
“This is ridiculous,” Lannister hisses under his breath, tone sharp and full of venomous disdain that it actually does manage to separate us.
Rylan glances over to his friend, concerned. “What’s up, Hunter? You’ve been in a weird mood all night.”
Twisting around in Tai’s arms to face the two guys, I’m instantly annoyed when Lannister continues to act as though I’m nonexistent.
Normally, I couldn’t care less. This is Lannister’s default setting whenever I’m in his direct vicinity.
But given what happened this week, I can’t help but wonder what I’ve done to piss him off to this level.
The whole situation is giving me emotional whiplash. If he wants to continue to be an asshole and hate me, fine. But pick a damn lane and stick to it.
One minute he acts like I don’t exist, the next he speaks to me as if we’re back to day one of our dreaded forced proximity. Then he turns up at my house and has some mental breakdown.
It’s exhausting. I cannot keep up with his mood swings.
And they say women are the emotional ones…
Lannister dramatically huffs. “Nothing is wrong. You just don’t need to be shoving this ridiculous affair in my face. Grow up. You’re acting like horny freshmen.”
My eyebrow shoots up at the same time as Rylan’s. Behind me, Tai’s arms go rigid around my waist, clearly taken aback as well by Lannister’s random outburst.
Rylan stands up from his seat, turning to his friend. “What the fuck, H? That was completely uncalled for. What the hell is your problem?”
Slamming his hands down on the arms of the chair, Lannister shoots up, standing face to face with Rylan.
“You’re just showing off. I get it—you’re pissed or whatever.
But I don’t care about this display of PDA.
Don’t forget, we have a job to do. But apparently, I’m the only one taking it seriously. ”
The air thickens around the four of us as silence creeps in. When the other two don’t say anything straight away, I speak up. “We’re all taking it seriously, Lannister. But it’s fight night for fuck’s sake. We’re allowed a break for a few hours.”
The asshole finally notices me, staring daggers. “Oh, please. This little arrangement worked out conveniently well for you.” His eyes dart to Tai behind me before a sneer crosses his face. “Are we really certain this wasn’t orchestrated by someone from Cedar Heights?”
“Seriously?” I snarl. “We’re getting back on this little merry-go-round?”
“It’s a valid question, Duchess.”
“Sort your shit out, Lannister. Go have a nap or eat a snack or something.”
“You really want to mess with me, Spencer?”
“Sure, why not?” I answer, unfazed.
“That’s enough, Hunter,” Rylan snaps. “You don’t need to speak to Bexley like that. And why the hell do you think we’re pissed off at you?”
The pair are staring daggers at each other, and when Lannister’s eyes dart sideways toward me, it clicks.
He assumes I told them about his visit to my house.
I see the moment the truth dawns on him, Lannister taking half a step back. “Just forget about it. We’re done here. Feel free to stay, but I’m heading home. Make sure you lock up.”
The three of us watch with a mixture of bewilderment and sheer frustration as he storms out of the warehouse, a loud bang echoing behind him as he slams the door.
Well… that’s one way to make things awkward and dampen my buzz.
“We should all head home,” I sigh. “Rain check on the weirdest team meeting ever?”