King of Denial : An Academy Bully Romance (Boys of Almadale Book 3) Read online

  “Two hundred, Gerry. Be quick.”

  “Fine. What do you want?”

  Bodhi tells him what he told me and then sits back in the chair, hands loosely placed on the armrests. He looks at ease while I’m tense inside.

  The whole process is over comically fast. I blinked, and Gerry was finished. Bodhi is the proud new owner of a hoop in his nose and a page of after-care instructions. As Amber hands it to him, I catch a glimpse of a handwritten note on the back of the instructions. I roll my eyes.

  “Thanks,” Bodhi yells over his shoulder as we leave A Tattoo. “What do you think?”

  He looks at me, placing his head at dramatic angles, and I giggle.

  “Looks like you got a nose ring.”

  “You know how to build a guy up.”

  “I don’t think you need to be built up any more,” I say, shuffling one foot as I worry my lower lip, trying not to laugh again.

  “Are you calling me stuck-up?”

  I reach for his hand, grabbing the page out of his fist and turning it over.

  “She gave you her number,” I say pointedly.

  “Are you jealous?”

  “No.”

  Yes.

  I could be wrong, but I think he might have had a little disappointment in his eyes when I said no.

  “I’m pointing out that you can get whatever you want. What does my opinion matter?”

  “You are my friend. It matters.”

  “Oh.”

  How eloquent, Trixie.

  “What are we doing now?” I change the subject, simultaneously wanting to explore his statement but not wanting to.

  “Come on,” he says.

  His grin comes back, and my heart swells. This might be the best day I’ve ever had.

  4

  Trixie

  Freshman Year—November

  “Okay, everyone.” Mrs. Pitts claps, drawing the class’s attention. “It’s time for your end-of-semester final project. I have assigned partners, and you will work together to pick a piece of literature that we have studied and give a presentation on the author’s life and other works and how it applies to today. I want to see work from both parties, not one doing all the work and the other taking credit.” She makes a point to look around the room, letting her statement sink in. “I’m putting up the list of your randomly selected partners on the board.”

  She pushes a button, and the screen illuminates with the paired-up names.

  Bodhi’s hand shoots up immediately.

  “Yes, Bodhi?”

  It’s always been weird that Mrs. Pitts refers to all of us by last names, except for Bodhi. The only one. Teacher’s pet? Maybe. Definitely.

  “Looks like my randomly selected partner is wrong.” He points behind her to the board.

  She turns and finds his name, looking at the accompanying name.

  “I should be with Trix.” He hooks a thumb behind him, and I feel eyes zero in on me. He’s basically hanging a sign above me that says, Hey, girls, please hate me for no reason at all.

  “That’s the point of a random selection, Bodhi. You don’t get to pick.”

  “I’m not picking; it’s a fact. Trix is my random partner.” He sits back, one arm hanging off the side of his chair and the other clutching a pencil that he’s tapping against the desktop.

  “All right. Trixie, you are with Bodhi. You can now pair up with your partners. Is everyone happy?”

  Arms shoot up around the room.

  “Forget I said anything. You have who you have.”

  The bell rings, signaling the class change, and all of us stuff our books in our bags.

  “Can’t wait to research with you, partner,” Bodhi says with a wink before standing, looping one strap over his shoulder. “New adventure today. Meet me out front at 3:01. Don’t be late.”

  This time, I know his games, and I’m quicker on the draw.

  “You can’t be late either.” I eye him. “I’m not waiting around for you to drag your butt out the front door whenever you feel like it.”

  “Backbone. I like it, Northcutt.”

  “I raised you with backbone.”

  I give him a little smile and wave, my cheeks flushed as I walk out of English, heading to my next class with my head in the clouds.

  “Will you let me drive today?” Bodhi asks as we again stand beside Indigo, his precious car.

  “No.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes.”

  “Aha, got a yes.” He holds up one finger with a grin.

  “It was a yes that really says, no, I won’t let you drive today.”

  “That’s a very confusing sentence.” He pulls his phone out, sending a message to who I assume is an older, license-bearing classmate.

  Within five minutes, we are piled in the back of Christina’s car again, headed to town for another adventure. I’m starting to get used to this.

  “No.”

  “That’s the third time you’ve said no to me today. You need to say yes more,” Bodhi says, pulling a sucker from his pocket and placing it between his lips.

  “Where did that come from?” I ask, and he smirks.

  “My pocket.”

  “I know that. Idiot. Isn’t it melted?”

  “Nope, just sticky. Tastes the same.”

  I stare at him, shaking my head. He’s so much different than I thought he was going to be. He’s been nice, fun, funny, and very attentive. But not overly so. I feel like we are friends now. I don’t know what changed between us, but I’m glad he made the move to try and befriend me. I needed that.

  “I hate Halloween.” I stare up at the store we are standing in front of.

  “Halloween was yesterday. We are taking advantage of the sale prices for decor.”

  “There’s a whole reason I didn’t go to the Halloween parties.”

  “Yeah, I know. You refused to tell me.”

  “I don’t think your friends like me,” I say, staring at something over his shoulder so I don’t have to look him in the eyes.

  “Bull. You said you hate Halloween. It doesn’t have anything to do with my friends; plus, you’ve never hung out with them.”

  “I know. I just—”

  “Quit overthinking things and don’t deflect. Loosen up, Trix. This is supposed to be fun,” Bodhi says.

  He didn’t say it meanly, but it still seeps into my bones regardless. I know I’m uptight. I always have been, and that’s one reason that I mostly keep to myself. It’s how I was raised. With a backbone but an off-kilter fun meter it seems. My idea of fun is strapping on ballet shoes and tearing my toes up with dance.

  “Why don’t you hang out with us later, once we get back? You’ll see that no one hates you or even dislikes you.”

  “I don’t know—”

  “What will it take for me to convince you?”

  I look at him this time, ignoring his question and asking one of my own, “Why are we doing this?” I find myself wanting to know desperately. I need answers. I can’t be in limbo anymore.

  “Doing what?”

  “You and me. Hanging out? Why are you here with me specifically?”

  “I like you.”

  Those three words make me pause. They have so much meaning and no meaning at all.

  What does like mean to him? To me?

  “What do you mean by that?”

  “What I said.”

  “But like has so many different meanings.”

  At that, he reaches up to rub the back of his neck, shifting from one foot to the other, and he looks away first, taking his sucker out.

  “I don’t know, Trix. Why put a label on things? Can’t we hang out as friends?”

  “Yes, but I want to know what made you choose me. It’s odd.”

  “How? I’m friends with everyone.”

  “No, you aren’t. Don’t you see that people aren’t your friends? They want to be you. They want your status and your prestige. They want your last name. At least, the girls d
o. The guys might want to be your friend but for their own gain. You are a Montgomery, Bodhi. Surely, you know what that means.”

  Bodhi brings his eyes back to mine, and I’m surprised to see the anger in them. The way his usually jovial face has transformed into a closed-off facade.

  “Is that what I mean to you?”

  “No.”

  “I like you because you didn’t immediately try to buddy up to me. You were snarky, and I can appreciate that. I like you as a person, Trix. Does that answer your question?”

  I gulp and nod, a strange emotion rising in my chest. He likes me as a person. I guess that’s a little better than saying he likes me as a friend because I know enough about my own feelings to realize that I like him more than a friend.

  “Let’s get lucky charms to commemorate the day we decided that we like each other,” he says, sticking his sucker back in his mouth and smiling, the stick hanging out one side of his lips.

  “Okay.” I nod, and he turns to walk in the Halloween store as I follow behind, my mind spinning with my unanswered questions and those that were answered.

  I’m immediately assaulted with visions of horror as we walk inside. I won’t deny it; I’m a scaredy-cat when it comes to things of the spooky nature. I cross my arms around myself and grimace as a witch bolts forward on a time-operated mechanism, laughing maniacally in my face.

  “I don’t understand how you could like this stuff,” I say to Bodhi’s back with a shudder.

  He turns, looking at me before circling around behind me, looping his arms around my shoulders, his front pressing into my back as he walks me forward. I put up a little fight, so he has to press closer to get me to move.

  His scent surrounds me—some sort of cologne or body spray but mixed with his own smell. It’s like crack to my nose. I can’t get enough of it.

  “Is your nose stopped up?” Bodhi asks, his mouth by my ear as he leans forward, and I’m glad he can’t see my face because I know my cheeks are fire-engine red.

  “Yes.”

  Liar. But I can’t admit that I got caught, smelling him.

  “Oh my God, this is perfect,” Bodhi yells, coming to a full stop and choking me a little as my body continues forward, my neck getting caught by his arms. “Sorry.” He unfolds his body from mine, and I rub at my windpipe.

  “What’s perfect?” I ask as I turn to see what has his attention.

  He sticks his hand out, covering my eyes.

  “I have found your lucky charm,” he says. “Keep your eyes closed.”

  I do it, and he withdraws his hand. I hear rustling as he grabs something from the shelf.

  “Okay, open.”

  I open my eyes and scream, pressing my hand to my chest as I back up a few steps. “What the hell is that?”

  “The mouth on you,” Bodhi says as he doubles over, laughing at my reaction. “I didn’t know you knew cuss words.”

  “I do when I’m staring at the spawn of Satan. That thing is hideous.”

  Bodhi brings the doll closer to me, prompting me to back up further.

  “Do not come close to me with that.” I hold up both hands.

  “Come on, babe. This doll needs love too,” he says, laughing.

  Babe. It rolled so easily off his tongue.

  “You give it love. I think the only thing I feel for it is hate, maybe utter loathing. Which is worse? Because that’s what I feel.”

  “It’s settled. I’m getting this for you,” Bodhi says, lowering his arm by his side, continuing to hold the abomination. “It’s a symbol of our friendship.”

  “It screams I hate you, not friendship.”

  Bodhi covers the doll’s ears. “Shh! It can hear you.”

  “That’s what I’m afraid of. I swear, Bodhi Montgomery, if I knew your middle name right now, I would use it.” I’m laughing but trying not to.

  He is going to buy that doll and expect me to keep it, and it’s the worst thing I’ve ever seen. Like a love child between Annabelle, Chucky, and Pennywise. I hate it.

  “It’s Trent,” he says with a wink.

  “Bodhi Trent Montgomery, I forbid you from buying that.”

  “You can’t forbid me,” he says. “Pick something out for me.”

  “That’s not the same. This stuff doesn’t affect you.”

  “Fine, we can go to a different store.”

  “Fine.” I cross my arms, and we spend a moment staring at each other. My thoughts whirl, and I let a slow smile spread across my face when I think of exactly what I’m going to get him.

  “Let’s go,” Bodhi says, spinning and heading toward the front to check out with the horrid thing still clutched in his hands.

  Thirty minutes later, Bodhi is laughing as he holds out his ankle, pulling the top of his pants up a little and twisting his foot this way and that.

  “I think I pull it off well,” he says, putting his ankle next to mine so our twin anklets line up.

  I picked them out, complete with the broken-heart best-friend charms, and told him he had to wear it. He agreed a lot quicker than I’d thought he was going to.

  “No fair. I didn’t think you would like it.”

  “Trix, I’ll like anything you buy me,” he says with a wink.

  And there the butterflies go, spinning and dipping and whirling around in my stomach.

  He has the Best side, and I have the Friends side. I laugh as I look at the pink gems lining the edges of the heart.

  “Hey, Trix?”

  I look up into his suddenly serious eyes, and I stop laughing. “Yeah?”

  “Promise me we will always be friends?”

  He holds one hand out, pinkie extended, and I stare down at it for a moment. I take my pinkie and loop it around his.

  “Promise.”

  “I feel like this is too low-key of a pinkie promise. Let’s create a better one.” He puts his finger and thumb on his chin and crosses his other arm underneath his elbow like he’s thinking hard. “Okay, I’ve got it. So, we pinkie-promise first, and then we do this.”

  He takes his right index finger, drawing an X across his heart, and then presses his index and middle finger to his lips, sealing it with a kiss. I watch in fascination as his lips pucker, and then he draws the fingers away.

  “You came up with that on your own?”

  “I’m actually a promise-maker prodigy. Come to me with all your exclusive promise sign needs.”

  “You should put out an ad. I think you would make bank.”

  “Make bank, you say? What am I even doing at school then? I’m quitting today.”

  I grab his arm as he goes to walk away. “Then, who will harass me in first period English on a daily basis?”

  “You do bring up a very valid point. I don’t want to leave you without a final project partner. I guess I’ll stick around.”

  “Good.” I loop my arm through his, pulling him close and smiling up at him as he stares down at me. “I can’t imagine doing this without you.”

  5

  Bodhi

  Freshman Year—December

  “And that is why Oscar Wilde’s influence on literature is still seen to this day,” I say, giving a grand bow in front of the room. I glance at Trixie, who is standing on the other side of our presentation that we creatively titled The Importance of Being Oscar, in homage to Wilde’s own play name. It might have been thought up at two in the morning, but we agreed it was the best thing ever.

  She returns my wide smile, beaming at me, a twinkle in her eye, and I want to pick her up and twirl her around.

  So, I do.

  She gasps as I cross the few feet between us and spin her in the air.

  “Give it up for my partner in crime, the smarter half of our dynamic duo.” I hold my arms out, as if I were presenting her to the class, like an object on a game show.

  The class applauds again, and she laughs, turning red.

  God, I love it when her cheeks turn rosy. I stop touching her before I embarrass myself in front of e
veryone.

  “Wonderful final project. Thank you, Bodhi and Trixie,” Mrs. Pitts says, clapping her hands.

  I pull the flash drive from the teacher’s computer and follow Trixie back down the aisle to our seats. I settle in for another presentation and reach back, pulling Trixie’s leg up and to the side of my chair. I angle my leg slightly until she can rest her foot on it, and I keep ahold of her smooth, stocking-clad ankle, the rough edge of her anklet underneath, as the rest of class progresses. I don’t know if Mrs. Pitts sees and ignores us or if she doesn’t notice us at all, but for the rest of the period, we sit like this, neither of us acknowledging it but neither of us stopping.

  “Happy birthday, bro,” I yell, launching myself on top of Brock and squeezing his face between my hands. “Fifteen, fucker.”

  “Get off of me,” he says, his face turning red beneath me as he struggles.

  Corbin, our new best friend as of this semester, watches us warily from his bed in our room.

  We stole the end room from our RA and kicked him out, placing three beds in here, and now, we hold court over the entire freshman floor. They’ve started calling us the Three Kings since no one dares to cross us. Maybe the upperclassmen would, but they don’t pay us any attention, so we don’t pay them any.

  “It’s time to get up.”

  “It’s Saturday. We can sleep in. What are you doing up?”

  “Did you not hear me? It’s our birthday.”

  “I’m very aware of what day it is. My birthday wish is that you would let me sleep in.”

  “Nope. We are throwing down tonight.”

  “No.” Brock sits up. He knows the gleam I have in my eyes means business.

  “Yes. It’s not a birthday without a party.”

  “Why do you do these things last minute?”

  “It’s not last minute. I’ve been planning this out for the last week.”

  “Without telling us?” Brock looks to Corbin for confirmation, and he shrugs.

  “Yes, it’s a surprise.” I jump up and down, sitting hard on Brock’s stomach, and he lurches up with a cough.