AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Dad: Did you look at the files?
Me: Not yet, I will do it today.
Dad: I want your bid in my inbox by Sunday.
Fucking asshole. Maybe I will put Cyrus on the list just to fuck with him. There is always a list of families and what girls are up for bidding, and we choose from those. Our fathers will usually narrow it down to a short list for us to pick from. The girls will be ranked, and then they narrow the list down. Some guys will get their first picks if no one else has a bid in. It happens occasionally in the younger year levels because there is a bigger range, so many families want to move up the wealth ladder so to speak and offering up your daughter is a way to get them onto a better list. Senior year is more competitive and less girls since these are not your average business deals and rubbing shoulders. This is combining families, businesses, and our livelihoods.
This isn’t how it always was, our families used to just pick for us. Stupidly, the guys and I all went to primary school together, and we had some stupid business class project. Lux was pissed that she wouldn’t get a say in who she married one day, and that pissed Rogue off, and we did a presentation about starting fights and a points system. My father loved it so much that here we are. My uncle was one of the first to implement the new system. A way to take some of the power back. It’s obviously run differently now that a lot of the kinks have been worked out.
The girls still get the shit end of the stick, but I don’t see them coming up with any ideas to change the system. They seemed more concerned about changing the uniforms and upgrading the school's buildings. So it’s really athemproblem that they have no say. Even though the majority of them are quite happy to marry whoever gets them. They have been raised to be socialites and future trophy wives just like their mothers. Another message pops up on my phone.
Dad: Make sure you look out for Cyrus.
My blood boils. If he has this much vested interest in her, it makes me instantly hate her. My father wants me to be nice and make sure she is okay, but I will make sure to slowly break her, bit by bit, so by the time she leaves here, she will never forget the name Diesel Briar.
Chapter Five
Cyrus
I wake to the sound of my own scream along with the bass to an Eminem song. Wiping the sweat from my face, I blink a few times to adjust to the darkness, I must have fallen asleep. I roll to my side and notice Diesel's bed is still made; this is the third night in a row. The music gets louder, and girly laughter seems to carry through the floor. Pushing back the covers, I decide to go investigate. I know it’s a Friday night, but from everything I have been told, most seniors have training, electives, and study on weekends.
I take the elevator down one floor, and as the door slides open, I’m even more gobsmacked than I was before. Most of this floor seems to be cleared out. There are lounges in the corner surrounding a massive flat screen TV, hooked up to an Xbox. A pool table, some electronic games like pinball, and racing games. The room is packed full of people, and a welcome banner spans one entire wall.
I scan the room, looking for any of the culprits. I first find the stereo system and pull the plug; not my smartest idea because the whole room instantly goes quiet, and every person is looking my way. I stand tall, hands-on hips.
I find the douches, all sitting around a table, girls hanging off them. I storm across the room to their table, no one is game enough to speak up, all their minions looking on to see what happens.
“What the hell are you doing?” I screech in their direction. The girl on Diesel's lap looks me over. “Are you really that immature and can’t share a room?” The girl's face scrunches, and I smile, I knew his girl would love that information.
She cuts in before anyone can answer my question. “You didn’t tell me your new roommate was a girl.”
Diesel pushes her from his lap, unhappy she questioned him. “I don’t have to tell you shit.” He snaps.
“Well, she does somewhat resemble a twelve-year-old boy.” Blondie snarls in my direction, again looking me over.
My head snaps towards her. “Are you seriously trying to body shame me right now? I would rather look like a twelve-year-old boy than a desperate bimbo hanging off the arm of a guy that clearly doesn’t give a shit about me.” She launches in my direction. One of Diesel's friends grabs her by the waist and pulls her away, kicking and screaming, and I smirk at her. I may not look like much, but the bitches at my last school have sharper claws than this rich little daddy's girl.
“Will you tame your pet for a damn minute and keep the music down? Some of us actually give a shit about graduating.”
Rebel steps up beside me while I’m in a stare off with Diesel. He throws an arm around my shoulders like we’re best mates. I try to shrug him off, but the damn size of this guy's arm has me easily pinned to his side. “I’ll tell you what, fresh meat, I will make you a deal.”
“Okay, I’m listening, as long as the said deal does not involve me getting naked.” He chuckles, the whole room still waiting in suspense to see how the quote Alphas unquote will deal with my outburst.
He unwraps his arm from my shoulders and walks to the table where Diesel and the surfer looking one, whom I think is named Cuyler, watch on, along with a pretty brunette–at least this one seems to know her place.
“If you finish all the alcohol on this table, back-to-back, I will make sure that for the next month, we will not host our parties here, Monday through Friday.”
I eye him sceptically. Does this mean they do this often or is he just making it seem like that? I can’t risk them being this loud every night, also attached to my trust is a rule that I actually graduate.
“How many drinks are we talking about?” I don’t mention the fact that before I came here, my father had me sent to a rehabilitation centre, thinking that I had a drinking problem. I personally would not have called it a problem, a coping mechanism over the fact that my father decided he was moving on from my mother with someone barely even ten years older than me.
“Two, three, five, seven shots, and what looks to be a beer, and whatever Diesel and Cuyler have left in their cups.”
Cuyler actually picks up his cup and downs what is in his. “What?” He asks with a twist of his lips. “This is your deal not mine.”
Diesel picks up his cup and puts it to his mouth. I see a challenge in his eyes as he smirks at me and places the amber liquid back on the table. Clearly, he wants to see if I’m up to the challenge.
Rebel shrugs and looks at me. “So, do we have a deal?” He asks, the curl of his lip pulling up into a smile. He doesn’t think I will do it.
