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You Suck: A High School Bully Romance (Bullies of Crescent Academy Book 1)
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You Suck
Sophie Stern
Copyright © 2019 by Sophie Stern
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
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You Suck
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Also By Sophie Stern
You Suck
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Epilogue
Deleted Scenes
Author
Books
Hybrid Academy
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Further Reading: Good Boys and Millionaires 1
Also By Sophie Stern
“I feel light, even in my darkest hour.”
-Tori Amos, Darkest Hour
Once upon a time, my family name meant something. It meant everything. Then my father was taken away and my world was shattered. Where our name once brought glory and recognition, now it brings only disdain.
Now when I roam the halls of Crescent Academy, I'm nothing.
A nobody.
A forgotten girl who gets nasty looks from everyone.
Especially Gavin.
There was a time when our families were close. Our dads were practically brothers. Now Gavin can't stand to even look at me.
Now he's nothing but a bully.
And he makes my life hell at every fucking chance.
YOU SUCK is a high school bully romance. Not for the faint of heart.
Prologue
Emilia
“WE SHOULD PLAY HIDE and seek,” I whisper.
Gavin only laughs.
“You’re only saying that because it’s the only game you know how to play.”
“What? That’s not true,” I cross my arms over my chest. “I know lots of games.”
“Really?” He raises an eyebrow and looks at me as though he doesn’t believe a word I’m saying. “Name one, then.”
“Tag,” I say boldly, but this just makes him laugh even more.
“Tag? Really?” He shakes his head. “That’s a child’s game.”
I look at my friend. We’re both in middle school now, so we’re hardly children. In fact, there are a lot of things about me that are decidedly not childish. Gavin hasn’t seemed to notice that I’m turning into a woman, but I’ve definitely noticed that he’s turning into a man. I’ve seen the way his hair has darkened over his lip, how he’s gotten taller. He hasn’t seemed to notice anything about me, though. That bothers me a little bit.
“Then what?” I ask.
“Something else,” he says, yawning. He’s bored. He always gets so bored at these events, and I can’t really blame him because they make me feel bored, too. Sitting in an empty wing of the house while our dads have their monthly meetings is dull. If our mothers were around, they could entertain us, but they’re off doing something else, so it’s just me and Gavin.
“Like what?”
“Like a game that doesn’t make us seem like fucking infants, Emilia,” he says.
I cringe at the words, and he instantly reaches for me.
“I’m sorry,” he says. “I wasn’t trying to freak you out.”
“It’s fine,” I say, but it’s not. I know he’s right. I’m not a kid anymore and neither is he. We shouldn’t be playing stupid games that toddlers would enjoy. We should be doing something else.
Anything else.
I stand up and walk over to one of the many bookshelves that line the walls of this room. It�
��s one of the most ornate rooms in my house. Gavin has been here a million times, just as I’ve been to his home, and the amazement over these buildings has long since worn out. Neither one of us cares that our fathers are rich. We don’t care about their money. We don’t care about anything except the fact that they constantly ignore us in lieu of holding business meetings.
Running my hand over the length of one of the shelves, I look at the different titles. Surely there’s something in here with ideas about games.
There must be something.
Then my hand touches the edge of something cool and I notice a little glass bottle on one of the shelves.
Perfect.
I grasp it and turn around. Then I hold it out to Gavin like a trophy.
“A bottle?”
“We could play.”
“What?”
“Spin the bottle,” I say. “You know,” I blush.
“I know what it is,” he looks at me. “Are you sure you’re up for that?” He raises an eyebrow, like he doesn’t think I’ll go through with it. Well, I’ll show him.
“I’m an expert at this game,” I lie easily. I take a seat in the center of the floor. Gavin sits across from me.
“It might not land on either one of us,” he says.
“So, you’ll just have to kiss what it lands on,” I shrug.
“I’m not kissing your dad’s chairs or bookshelves.”
“Don’t be scared.”
“I’ve never been scared in my life, Emmie.”
I smile at the nickname. Gavin is the only one who has ever called me Emmie in my life. My teachers sometimes try to call me Em or even Emma, but Emmie is something that is just Gavin’s and mine. It’s ours. It’s like a warm secret I can hide behind.
It’s like a gentle hug.
“Spin it, then,” I say. “Go on.”
Only, I hold my breath because I lied to him. I’ve never done this. I’ve never done anything like this at all. Not ever. I might be in the 8th grad and I might talk a big game, but the truth is that I’ve never even kissed a guy.
Not even on the cheek.
“Whatever,” he says, and he reaches for the bottle. Gavin looks up at me for just a second. Does he know that I’m holding my breath? This is a stupid game and we’re stupid for playing it, but part of me just wants this to happen. Part of me thinks that my very first kiss is inevitable, so I might as well take matters into my own hands and ensure that my first time is with someone I trust.
With someone I care about.
Not with someone I love.
I don’t love him.
I know that much.
“Come on, then.”
We sit down in the center of the floor. It’s hardwood because my dad thinks carpeting makes houses look cheap. Everything in our home is made of mahogany. I don’t really get what the big deal is, especially now. We’re kneeling on the floor and my knees hurt. I don’t care about how much Dad paid for these floors. I care about the fact that I’m going to be sore tomorrow.
Gavin sets the bottle down between us, reaches for it, and unceremoniously spins it.
And then everything changes.
In that moment, I hold my breath, and I realize that what I really want, more than anything else, is for it to land on me.
I want to kiss Gavin, I realize.
Even if he’s not my forever someone.
Even if we’re not in love.
Even if he doesn’t want to date me.
A kiss is just a kiss.
And I’d love to have my first one be with him.
The bottle slows and then stops. It’s pointing directly at me. Gavin looks at it and raises an eyebrow.
“Well,” he says. “Would you look at that?”
“Yeah,” I say. “Funny.”
“Well,” he shrugs. “Are you scared?”
“No.”
“Ever kissed a boy before?”
“No.” I slap my hand over my mouth, but the truth escaped my lips too fast. Now I can’t bring it back. Gavin smirks because he knows. He knew even before I said it that I was an innocent, that I was naïve.
“Congratulations, kid,” he says. Then he leans across the bottle and he presses his lips to mine, and the entire world seems to spin.
So this is what kissing is like, I realize.
It’s not what I thought it would be. I always imagined it would be gross and sloppy and weird and awkward, but it’s not. It’s just...
Everything.
It’s peaceful.
And it’s what I wanted it to be.
He pulls back and cups my face in a strange moment of tenderness. I don’t think I could ever possibly forget this moment or how I feel during it. In fact, I’m so caught up in Gavin’s gaze that I don’t notice the pounding on the front door, or the yelling, or the footsteps sounding throughout the house. I don’t notice any of that until it’s too late and the door is kicked open and the police officers come in. Instantly, Gavin jumps farther away from me, and somehow, we try to act as though we weren’t just kissing in the middle of the room.
Guilt washes over us.
They know.
“Emilia Riley?” One of the officers asks me.
“Y-Y-Yes,” I manage to stutter, completely shocked. My heart starts racing. What are they doing here? Why are there police officers in my house? Across from me, I can see Gavin still. He’s just as scared, I realize. He wasn’t expecting this, either.
“Where’s your father?” The police officer asks.
I just stare at the officer, unsure of what to say.
My dad?
Why are they looking for my dad?
He’s just an ordinary businessman.
A nobody.
“He’s in his office,” I say. I manage to point in the general direction and the officers leave: all but one. That one comes into the room and kneels beside Gavin and I. She seems kind and gentle.
“Hey kids,” she says. “Why don’t we get you both out of here?”
“What? Why?” I whisper, but I already know why. I know that something bad has happened – or is about to – and that everything is going to change for me.
Forever.
“Everything is going to be fine,” she says. She holds out her hand and smiles at us, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “Let’s get out of the house, okay? Things are about to get a little bit crazy.”
If only I’d known then exactly how crazy they would get.
If only I’d known then that would be the last time Gavin would ever speak to me kindly.
If only I’d known then that my entire world was going to crumble.
I should have known, but I didn’t.
Chapter 1
Emilia
MY MOTHER THOUGHT THAT Amelia was a nice name. It means “work,” and that’s the one thing my mother has always loved more than anything else. What she didn’t realize was that by changing the spelling of my name, she was also changing the meaning, and instead of “work,” my name means “rival.”
It’s fitting, considering my life. Everyone in the world seems to think they’re my rival. If I could go back in time, I would somehow convince my mother to choose something else to name me.
She could have picked something normal or plain.
Angela is a perfectly decent name.
Megan, perhaps.
Hell, even Bethany would be better than Emilia.
But that’s the name she gave me, so it’s the one I’m stuck with, at least for now. Once I graduate, if I manage to make it that far, I can run far away and never look back. I can find something else to call myself. I can choose a different name that isn’t quite so terrible. I can choose something that’s not going to haunt me.
Now, as I sit writing my name on the top of my quiz paper, I hear someone hiss it out loud.
“Emilia!”
This time, it isn’t someone terrible or mean or cruel.
In fact, it’s one of the only friends I have right now: K
aren.
Yeah, her mom hates her, too. We bond over that sometimes: us and Adalee, who doesn’t really even have a mother. The three of us make up this weird sort of outcast trio at Crescent Academy. It’s lonely, but at least we have each other.
“What?” I ask quietly, eyeing the front of the classroom. I don’t turn my head toward Karen. In fact, I barely move my lips at all as I speak.
Mr. Wilson isn’t exactly known for being gentle or kind, especially when it comes to people speaking in his classroom. He’s a bit of a bastard, actually, at least in my opinion. When you get your grade in his class, that’s the grade you get. If you had a bad day or you messed up, that’s not his concern. He doesn’t give second chances.
“What?” I whisper again.
Nothing.
There’s no sound, and I slowly, cautiously, turn my head toward my friend. Karen looks white as a ghost and stiff as a board and unhappy as...well, she looks unhappy. What the hell?
“Check your phone,” she whispers.
Fuck.
Mr. Wilson is still writing questions on the board, so I carefully slide my cell phone out of my pocket and onto my lap. No one else is paying any attention to me as I maneuver it open and pull open social media. What else would she want me to check? Crazed is the only social media app worth using these days, so of course, that’s the one I go for.
Immediately, I wish I hadn’t.
My heart sinks as I see the first post, and then the second, and then the third. I turn back to Karen and her lips are pressed tightly together, but she doesn’t say a word. I’m hit with a split-second decision. I can either stand up and ask to be excused for emergency reasons or I can suck it up and not let the assholes of Crescent High get to me.
What’s it going to be?
Quiet laughter draws my attention and I turn to the opposite side of the room where a group of boys have obviously seen the same posts that I just brought up. Wilson seems to ignore them as they browse through the assortment of posts that all have the same bit of information: Emilia sucks.
Then there’s a list of reasons why.
My heart feels like it’s going to absolutely explode, and every bit of my soul feels like it’s going to die. I don’t want to do this. I don’t want to feel this way. I can’t. I close my eyes for just a second. No one seems to notice the fact that I’m totally, absolutely in distress.