Grayson
I wake in the morning, feeling way too out of place in this massive house. One would think that I’d bask in all the memories it holds, being as this was my childhood home—but I don’t. Everything in here is tainted with thoughts of a life I’ll never get back. A life that was ripped away by the hands of the one person I trusted more than anything. Being back here just fuels my fire, and I’ll enjoy getting the revenge I deserve all the more.
“Grayson, breakfast!” My mother shouts up the stairs.
Letting out a groan, I sit up in bed and run my fingers through my silky brown hair. Once I slip on a pair of sweatpants, I ignore the urge to slide down the banister and opt for walking down instead. The smell of pancakes fills the whole lower level, making me instantly suspicious. My mom hasn’t made breakfast in years. I didn’t expect now to be any different.
“Morning,” I say.
She lights up like a fucking Christmas tree, and if I didn’t know her better, I’d think she’s on drugs. “Good morning, sweetheart. Pancakes?”
“Sure?” If she can sense the hesitation in my tone, she doesn’t mention it. “You seem, um, different.”
“What? I’m not allowed to be in a good mood?”
I chuckle. “No, you are. I just didn’t think you would be.”
Her shoulders raise in a shrug. “What can I say? I think you were right. This house, being back here, it helps. It’s the closest I’ve felt to your dad since…”
She doesn’t need to finish her sentence for me to know where she was going with it. Still, the topic of my father is not one I like to discuss, so I nod and smile sympathetically. She takes mercy on me and changes the subject.
“So, are you excited for your first day?”
I roll my eyes. “Oh yes, I just love the idea of going to a prep school with a bunch of rich snobs.”
She snorts. “Well, I can still get a refund on the tuition check and send you to public school instead.”
“No.” I shake my head. “I told you, Haven Grace has a better football team.”
And my target. I couldn’t possibly tell my mother the real reason I wanted to move back here, or why I insisted on her paying a disgusting amount of money for me to go to HGP for my senior year. I’m sure a part of her believes what I told her, that I wanted to be back in my childhood home to feel closer to my dad. Another part of her probably thinks it was just to get away from her most recent scumbag boyfriend. While that part was a major plus, it had nothing to do with my true motivation.
I manage to finish my breakfast while avoiding most small talk, then immediately head up to my room under the pretenses of needing to get ready. As soon as I turn the lock on my door, I grab my pack of cigarettes and go over to the window. Sitting on the roof used to be my favorite place when I needed a second to think. I did it when my parents would fight. When I did something wrong and got in trouble. When my feelings for my best friend started becoming a little less platonic and a little more real. It was the one place where no one would bother me, other than the waterfall. I’m still not sure anyone knows that’s there, minus the only person I shared it with.
I take a puff of my cigarette, letting the smoke fill my lungs then exhaling all my stress along with it. Like a bad habit, my eyes instinctively glance over to the house across the street—the one I spent more time in than my own. I can still remember using flashlights with our own personal Morse code at night. If only she used that code to tell me my life was about to get flipped upside down. But of course, she didn’t. Not when she was partly to blame.
Putting out the cig on the shingles of the roof, I swallow down the anger burning inside of me and climb back into my bedroom. Today, I kick my plan into action, and I need to be ready. She doesn’t know what’s coming to her—which is exactly how I want it.
HAVEN GRACE PREP IS everything I imagined it would be. The parking lot is filled with cars that cost more than your average house. Arrogant rich kids roam the halls, their biggest concern being where their next vacation will be. Their naiveté is infuriating. What’s worse is knowing that, had my life not been permanently altered by someone else’s actions, I’d probably be no different than these trust fund brats.
Despite having the money to live wherever we wanted, my mother leaned on her sister for support—her sister that absolutely refuses to spend more than necessary. They both come from a wealthy family, but none of that matters to Aunt Lauren. She insists that her kids go to public school and earn all the expensive things they want. Following her example, my mother did the same with me, and I’m glad for it. It taught me not to be like these spoiled pricks with their heads stuck up their asses.
“Hey, fucker.” Speaking of pricks.
I fist bump Carter before nodding at Jace. “What’s up?”
“Just another day in hell. How are you liking it so far?”
My shoulders shrug before my eyes land on a girl who has her skirt rolled up high enough to see her ass hanging out. “Can’t really complain.”
He grins. “That’s my man, but maybe not that one. I’m pretty sure J almost caught syphilis from her last year.”
Jace punches Carter in the arm. “Fuck off, asshole. I wouldn’t let that bitch anywhere near my dick.”
“Yeah, yeah, sure. You’re a virgin monk.” He waves him off. “Who do you have for first period?”
I pull the folded-up schedule out of my pocket and skim over it with my eyes. “Mr. Englewood.”
“Sweet. That’s where we’re all at.” He pulls the paper out of my hands. “They must have realized you’re on the team. All our classes are the same but one. Come on, your locker is right next to mine.”
We walk down the hallway, with Carter and Jace on either side of me. As we approach, four of the girls I recognize from the cheerleading team are standing there with Hayden and Wyatt. Two of them straighten up as soon as they notice me, playing with their hair in a poor attempt to be subtle.
“Hey, Grayson,” one greets me, but I can’t seem to remember her name. Kasey or Cassy, I think.
Carter snorts. “Easy, Kinsley, your desperate is showing.”
“Suck it, Carter.”
“Ah-ah, sucking is your specialty. I’m more of a licking guy.” He sticks his tongue out for emphasis, making Kinsley cringe. Then, as if someone is missing, he looks around. “Where’s your captain?”
They all look as clueless as Carter does until one, who I believe is Emma, looks down at her phone. “I tried texting her but she hasn’t answered.”
“Why are you so concerned about her anyway?” Kinsley spits.
Carter laughs and doesn’t even give her a response. Whoever this girl is, there are clearly some issues between her and little miss spitfire over here.
“All right man, this locker is yours.” He knocks on one of them then moves to the one next to it. “This one is mine, and the one next to it is Jace’s. Hayden and Wyatt are on the other side of you.”
“Cool, thanks.” I put in the combination and open it, tossing my bag carelessly inside just before a short tune plays through the speakers. “What the fuck was that?”