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Chapter 30
Astrid
His note hits the back of my leg, and this time, I pick it up.
Stacks. After school. Must attend.
September ended with extreme drama, but October has moved forward with little notice until today. I take Charlotte’s advice and later, Dr. Rawlins’, and stay away from all the boys. Wyatt is the easiest to avoid. We have an unspoken agreement to walk in the opposite direction when we see each other. We have no classes together, and he starts using the gym in the evening after I’ve left.
In class, Bryce stares past me with a sour look on his face. And Pierce does the same with his arms folded. Justin tries to feign disinterest, but from my periphery, he’s eyeing me, and something is clearly on his mind. But his horny thoughts are not my concern.
My resolve is to fight back harder, and if nothing else, to get all my money back. I’m still allowed to attend the Investment Club meetings, but I don’t have a say in how the money is handled. I’m also not able to touch any of the money earned. When I asked Professor Getz, it turns out that the five hundred dollar fee goes toward administrative costs. Unfortunately, I’m going to need some money soon, as my bank account is down to fifty dollars.
I refuse to call that man who says he’s my father but acts like a jerk-off. A week went by, and he was a no-show. Of course. He’s been a no-show my entire life. Dr. Rawlins sends word that he’s been tied up and will see me next week at school. I don’t care if he goes to hell instead. I have no interest in him; I’m only putting up with the bullshit for Mom.
Besides my other schoolwork, I’m required to read the student handbook and write a short essay on each chapter. Dr. Rawlins emphasizes that she’s interested in content, not grammar. I write a moving essay on good study habits. Ironically, the info actually helps me with my classes. I make fun of the dated principles in the handbook, but on some level, I realize how much I need them here.
Tomorrow is Friday, but today, I head over to the library to meet Bryce. I refuse to go up to the stacks and sit downstairs on the first floor at one of the group study tables, just like the other rich kids. I make eye contact with Bryce when he walks through the double glass doors. He scowls and motions toward the elevator. But I shake my head and hold up the student handbook, tapping the cover with my index finger.
Bryce walks toward me and attracts the attention of half the students sitting at the tables. Two sophomore girls watch him stroll by and no doubt think he’s hotly delicious. Well, Bryce is rotten to the core. They whisper and watch when he sits across from me, tossing his messenger book bag onto the table. That leather bag is costlier than the designer bags most of the girls carry.
“I have an essay due.” I flip open the handbook. “On social graces. So, I don’t have time to hide out with you in the stacks.”
His mouth tightens into a line. “We have business to discuss.”
“Discuss it here,” I reply lightly, “No one will understand what we’re talking about. Or maybe you didn’t want to be seen in public with me? So, we had to hide in the stacks like your dirty little secret.”
His jaw tics, but he rolls his eyes. “Don’t be dramatic.”
I shake my head once. “I’m not. I’m an obedient student. Morally good girls don’t sneak off with hormone-driven boys to secluded corners in the school. They might trip and fall, and oops, your manhood might slip into my delightful bud.”
“Fine,” he snaps in a low voice, “I can tell you here. You’re booked to fight Saturday. Wear something sexy, and it will be a draw.”
“Will I be paid?” I ask. “I want double what you stole from me.”
He nods. “It’s the only service I’m interested in paying you for.”
Bryce picks up his bag and saunters past the two girls. They have been eyeing him the whole time. Bryce winks, and it sets off a flurry of giggles. The bastard used to wink at me like that. I may have been majorly fooled, but that doesn’t mean I am a fool. I shove that corny book aside and shoot Nova a text. In thirty minutes, she confirms the name of the girl I’m fighting.
Nova: Erin O’Connor.
Astrid: She slays. Rich boy wants T&A.
Nova: WARNING. She gives back what she gets.
I actually do have an essay due tomorrow. When I’m finished, I hit the private gym, ignoring Wyatt as he walks in for his workout. I’m dripping sweat as I torture my body, building endurance on the treadmill and then beating up a freestanding punching bag in one of the private studios. From the corner of my eye, through the glass, I see Wyatt pass by the door. He glances over and frowns but keeps going. When I decide to quit for the night, he’s gone. And I feel empty, like I’ve been let down. I’d hoped he would still be there. He must really hate me, and he should.
***
I don’t punish myself with another grueling workout Saturday. Instead, I take an easy jog around the trails. I’m invited to run alongside the track team and spend the four miles chatting with two jocks. I made a big mistake. I should’ve hooked up with the jocks, not the snobs. For the most part, Gillian and Bobby are good-natured. They remark that I have a reputation for being serious about my workout. They don’t mention anything else.
“What sport are you into, Astrid?” asks Gillian. Her light brown hair is tucked under a Stonehaven baseball cap, and though her legs look short, they are powerful. I can picture her kicking down doors. Bobby is taller, with the build you’d expect on a track star. His auburn hair is cut short, and what is it with guys wearing shorts all year long? It’s not that warm.
I shrug my shoulders. “Oh, running and kickboxing.”
Bobby’s face lights up. “There’s a kickass dojo, no pun intended, over in Woodland Heights.”
I frown. “Where? How far?”
