Savage Lessons: A Reverse Harem High School Bully Romance (Vicious Boys of Marter High Book 1) Read online

  Savage Lessons

  Vicious Boys of Marter High, Book 1

  Elle East

  Copyright © 2020 by Elle East

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Due to mature content, this book is recommended to readers aged eighteen and over. All characters are over the age of eighteen.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Thanks for Reading!

  Also by Elle East

  1

  I wore the wrong outfit. Yep, the way that girl looks at me like she wants to kick my ass definitely tells me I wore the wrong outfit.

  I self-consciously smooth down my emerald green pleated skirt. I pull my wool coat tighter around me as I walk up the dilapidated front steps of Marter High.

  “Stuck up, bitch,” some girl with more piercings than face says to me as she passes by.

  I was already nervous—I’ve never been to public school before—but I’m getting even more nervous as I gaze upon the high school’s crumbling face. It looks like the last building left after an apocalypse. Maybe it used to be a respectable institution, it’s a tall, imposing stone structure, but now it’s crumbling.

  The flag pole is bare and the front lawn is brown dirt. It looks like a building that’s given up. The world has abandoned it—just like my parents have abandoned me. It doesn’t help that it’s January and the trees are noticeably bare in the Virginia cold. The ground is dead.

  I walk up the front steps and I can’t help but feel out of place when my low-heeled boots strike the concrete. Everyone else is wearing combat boots. I’m dressed to fit in at my old school, but this is clearly not my old school. Sheltered Glen was a private school that cost fifty thousand dollars a year in tuition, while this place looks like it would have to pay people to attend it.

  All the students I can see walking in look like convicts—but I shouldn’t judge, it’s not like I fit in with the rich kids at my old school either. I hated that we all had to pretend that our lives were perfect when mine was a complete mess.

  Olivia headed in early so I’m all on my own. My sister may only be a year younger than me, but we are very different people. She’s always been desperate to fit in—when your parents don’t give you love you try to find it in all the wrong places. While I’m someone who doesn’t give a fuck what people think about me—at least that’s what I tell myself until some girl with a blue mohawk lunges at me as I walk by and I practically fall into the dirt to avoid her.

  She and her friends laugh as I scurry by. I may not care what she thinks about my outfit but I don’t want to get into a fight on my first day, and three against one, I don’t like those odds. I feel like I’m going to be the odd person out a lot this year—luckily I only have six months more until I graduate.

  There’s a metal detector at the front door and we have to take off our shoes, coat and backpack to go through it. As I walk on the cracked linoleum floor in my stockinged feet, a guard with a gun waving me through the machine, I think about how far I’ve fallen. Only a few weeks ago I was walking into my fancy prep school. I was on my way to graduation and then college and then living in New York as a photographer, but now all of that is gone and my future was as unclear as the murky, never-washed glass in the windows of Marter High.

  After I put on my shoes, I wander through the halls lined with lockers falling off their hinges. The girls are giving me stares like they can’t wait to kick my ass and the guys are looking at me like they can’t wait to fuck me. I sneer in disgust and try not to make eye contact with anyone. Eventually I find the door that says “Administration” and knock.

  No answer.

  I knock again, a little louder.

  “Get in here!” I hear an angry, exasperated voice yell through the door.

  “Sorry,” I say as I go in. I try to close the door behind me but it’s slightly warped and I can’t fit it back into the frame. “I didn’t know if I was allowed to just walk in.”

  The lady behind the desk sighs as if I’m the biggest pain in her ass that’s ever existed. I keep trying to close the door until I get fed up and throw my body weight against it. It slams shut with a force that cracks the glass.

  I turn to her. “Sorry about that.”

  She gives me a stare that makes me feel about as welcome as the girls in the hallway made me feel. Whatever, I think. She needs to suck it up and do her job.

  “I’m Addison Hearst. I just transferred and I need my schedule,” I say with authority—something I learned from my parents when they ordered around the help. I cringe. I never want to be like them.

  She presses her mouth together in annoyance but picks up a piece of paper from the drawer next to her. She hands it to me without a word and I snatch it from her fingers and walk out. I hate rude people. Then I think about it and realize how hard it would be to work in a place like this. She has to deal with troubled students constantly so she’s probably burned out.

  Back in the hall—I leave the door open behind me—I look at my schedule. The first class I have is History, and it looks like it’s on the first floor. I find it pretty easily and walk in just as the bell rings. The room is half empty and the teacher at the front barely looks up from his book, an air of defeat hangs around him.

  The other students are joking around with each other and sitting on their desks. I even see one guy smoking and another carving something into his desk with a switchblade. Holy fuck, I think to myself. I’ve never been in a place like this. Here I am standing in my stupid pleated skirt and white short-sleeved blouse. I’m going to get beaten up for sure.

  All eyes in the room turn to me and everyone here hates me already, I can feel it. They all know who my family is. They all know that my family is the reason why Marter was plunged even further into poverty when my grandfather closed the auto manufacturing plant here years ago. It was the main employer in town and when it closed, I’m guessing a lot of these kids’ parents and grandparents lost their jobs.

  I look at the teacher for reassurance, but he doesn’t meet my gaze. I guess I’m on my own. I steel myself and walk farther into the room. The anger in the air is like a physical force, I can feel it and it makes me start to sweat—but I won’t show it. I straighten my back, like I always do when I need courage. If you look confident, you can fool people into thinking you are—even yourself. I walk into the room and under the hateful stares I take a seat at an empty desk.

  I take out my notebook, place it in front of me and wait. The tension is high and I’m nervous about what will happen, but luckily after a few eternal seconds everyone starts back up their conversations
and I breathe out a sigh of relief.

  I keep waiting for the teacher to start the lesson, but he never looks up from his book. I quickly get bored but I don’t want to take out my phone because I’m scared these kids will jump me for it. It’s a just released, brand new eleventh generation phone and I’m making an educated guess that not many of them have it yet—unless they stole them from people like me.

  With nothing to do, I look around the room, which I realize is a mistake the second my eyes meet this evil-looking dude with radioactive green hair in the corner. I quickly turn back around, but it’s too late. I feel him walk up and stand next to me. I look up to meet his eyes.

  He has wide eyes that don’t seem quite sane. I’m immediately uncomfortable. I can’t pinpoint what it is, but this guy seems like he’s not altogether stable.

  He leers at me and I have trouble maintaining his gaze—but I won’t look away. He has a crazy grin full of teeth that have never seen braces. He’s not altogether unattractive, but there’s something about him which is just off. Something that I can’t put my finger on. He’s massive, and I don’t like the way he’s leaning over me because it seems like he’s trying to corner me.

  “Hey, new girl.” He grins manically.

  “Hey,” I answer curtly. I just want him to go away.

  “I’m Seth.”

  “Nice to meet you,” I mumble.

  “I know who you are.” The way he says it makes me so uneasy I unconsciously shudder.

  “Yeah? I think everyone else does too.” I motion to all the people in the room staring at us, including the teacher though he’s trying not to be obvious about it. Looks like if anything happens I’m all on my own.

  “Well, I just wanted to give you a proper welcome.” He reaches down and cups his dick. I can’t help the disgusted sneer that flashes across my face.

  His crazy eyes gleam as he watches my reaction.

  “I’m going to make you scream.” And with that, he walks back to his desk.

  I stare at him, open-mouthed. Was that a threat? The way he leers back at me makes me think it definitely was. I turn away.

  The teacher teaches nothing the whole class and so I just try to edit photos on my phone while hiding it so no one steals it. The rest of the students are loud and obnoxious and I can’t wait until it’s over.

  When the bell rings, I rush out of there so quick I think I leave a cartoon cloud bubble in my place. The halls are full of students that would never have fit in at my old school. They are all dressed in black with piercings and brightly colored hair. Half the girls are pregnant and most of the students seem drunk or high. I didn’t fit in at my old school either, but I definitely don’t fit in here. I belong nowhere.

  As I’m walking down the hall, trying to find my math class, I see a gorgeous guy leaning casually against a locker and I do a double take. He’s not my usual type, he looks like his picture would be under the definition of “bad boy” in the dictionary, but I can’t help but notice how attractive he is—I’m only human.

  I can see a couple tattoos weaving their way around his jacked arms—arms so ripped that his black t-shirt sleeves look like they are about to rip. He has thick chestnut brown hair that’s cut short on the sides and the rest is slicked upwards so he looks even taller than his already large six three frame. There’s a scowl on his face and his eyes are narrowed in a way that makes him look like he’s constantly sizing up everything—like nothing gets passed him. He looks like someone who is never impressed.

  He turns suddenly and meets my eyes. I’m startled, and also a bit embarrassed to say that I jump slightly before recovering. But I won’t let the sexy guy intimidate me—and also I don’t want a repeat of how Seth reacted—so I tilt my chin back and walk right by him as if he doesn’t exist.

  I know guys like that, so gorgeous that they have everything handed to them—too sexy for their own good, so they can’t handle being ignored. And when I sneak a glance back, I’m right. He’s staring at me like he wants to murder me and I think maybe I shouldn’t push it with the students here. They probably could kill me.

  2

  My next class is a bit better than the first. The teacher actually tries to teach, but the students don’t listen to her at all. I can tell she’s been worn down. Her spirit broken by the constant disobedience and she’s on the cusp of giving up just like the History teacher. It’s kind of sad—and a little frightening.

  When lunchtime comes, nobody’s talked to me at all—besides Seth and a couple other kids who said rude comments—so I head to the lunchroom alone. I try to keep my head held high so they know I’m not an easy target. These kids look like they are constantly trying to sniff out a victim and I have to show them that despite my outfit, I’m not someone to be fucked with. I may look like a prissy bitch, but I won’t go down without a fight.

  The food looks inedible. I can’t even identify what half the dishes are and so I just get a carton of milk and turn to the tables. I know that I’m not welcome at any of them. If Olivia and I were normal sisters, we would be sitting together so that we aren’t alone, but we’ve never been “normal” sisters.

  She’s only a year younger than me so theoretically we should be close, but she’s always seen me as her weird and embarrassing older sister who’s into photography and doesn’t care that much about fitting in. She changes everything about herself to fit in with whoever she’s around.

  Despite the fact that we are basically the same age, I’ve always been protective of her. I see her as someone who’ll fall for anything and even though that annoys me, I still love her and don’t want her to get hurt. It makes sense that she wouldn’t want to start her time at this new school being seen with me. She’s scared I’m going to embarrass her. Doesn’t want to risk me ruining her reputation before she’s even established one.

  There’s an empty table in the corner and I sit down. I try not to look around but I can feel all the eyes on me.

  It’s not long until a group of girls comes up to surround me. I can tell the girl closest is the leader by how she carries herself. She’s pretty in a kind of tacky way, with her hair poorly bleached, her bright pink tube top and short gym shorts pulled up her crack.

  “Hey, rich bitch,” she says in a sing-song voice.

  “Nice to meet you,” I answer, trying not to sink to her level.

  “You think you’re better than us don’t you?”

  “No, I don’t. I’m here just like you are,” I answer coldly.

  “You’re still a stuck-up bitch even without your family’s money. You’re poor like the rest of us now.” She bends down closer to me as she says it, threatening. “We know what your family did and we are going to make you pay. You never should have come here. This was the stupidest decision you’ve ever made.”

  Another girl in the crowd who looks like she’d be pretty if she didn’t have huge bags under her eyes and greasy hair, leans in close too. It’s five against one and I don’t like those odds. I’ve also never been in a real fight before. The girls at my old school fought with words, spreading rumors and having passive aggressive arguments in hushed tones. There was no way they’d raise their hands to anyone. They’d ruin your reputation, not your face.

  I kind of want to see if I could knock these girls on their asses, but the odds are against me—and they seem like the type to pull out a knife, so I decide I should just leave. I stand up, but they don’t move away.

  “I don’t want to fight with you,” I say as I try to move around the leader without touching any of them.

  This is apparently the wrong thing to say as all five of them start to get even more riled up. They crowd even closer to me so we are almost touching. They start calling me names and making threats. They say that this is their school and I should have never shown my face here. It’s getting intense and I know I need to leave. Everyone in the cafeteria is watching us with hungry eyes. They want to see a fight. They want to see blood.

  I refuse to bow down to th
em. I keep my head high and manage to slip through a space between two of them and try to leave the cafeteria. This pisses them off and they follow me. The mean shit they are saying is starting to make my blood boil. I walk through the hostile crowd and I’m almost free when suddenly I’m falling.

  A white spray of milk goes flying from the carton in my hand as I fall to the hard linoleum. From the ground, I look behind me and see some student smirking with his foot sticking out into the aisle between the tables. He tripped me on purpose.

  I stand up, brushing the dirt from my clothes. It’s weirdly silent in the room. The girls have stopped howling at me and are staring quietly at something over my shoulder.

  I turn to see the guy from earlier standing behind me. The hot one who was leaning against the lockers. His arms are crossed, and he’s all jacked muscle and bad boy attitude. He’s looking at me with sharp green eyes that cut like razor blades. And he’s mad. He looks like he wants to strangle someone with those large, rough hands of his.

  I wouldn’t want to be the person who pissed this monster off, but the way he’s looking at me tells me that I just fucked up.

  The large space is so silent you could hear a pin drop.

  What did I do? Is he also mad at me because of who my family is? Just like all the other students. As I’m thinking, I look down and realize what he’s pissed about. I spilled milk all over his combat boots.

  “Clean it.” He says in a dark, commanding voice that cuts like a dagger into the primitive part of my brain that’s responsible for fear.