Devils' Day Party: A High School Bully Romance - C.M. Stunich Page 0,58

arms from either side and drag me across the courtyard. Fuck! No matter how many times I change the course of the day, some things stay the same.

The two of them carry me over to the cellar door as I struggle, my phone falling from my pocket and hitting the stone ground with an unpleasant cracking sound. Fucking great. Just great.

During prohibition, the school staff actually made the students of the school cook up moonshine. The old, damp cellars are still there, locked unless they're being used for a history assignment.

But of course, Calix has the key.

Raz and Sonja carry me down the steps as I flail and kick, throwing me to the sandy ground the way Raz and Barron did on the first day of this never-ending nightmare. I gasp at the pain in my knees as I spin around, just in time to see Raz and Calix pushing the metal grate back over the hole in the ground.

The latter crouches down to look at me as his horde of pretty goblins titter and float around him in glittering masks and cruel laughter.

“You will never be a part of the Knight Crew, Karma. No matter what you do. No matter how hard you try. You are cut from a different cloth.” Calix slides my broken phone into his pocket as anger, hot and wild and untamed, sweeps over me.

“Fuck you, Calix!” I scream as Sonja and Raz high five each other and take off for class. “Fuck all of you!” I put my hands over my face and sink back to the floor, sobs taking over me as I realize that I've ruined Pearl's day for nothing. That I shunned my own friends for a piece of the dark glittering fruit that the Knight Crew poisoned and held out to me like Snow White's apple.

Putting my back against the wall, I close my eyes and brace myself for a long wait. I could scream, but nobody will hear me while class is in session. Instead, I try to fall asleep, figuring I could start the day over again.

Unfortunately for me, sleep doesn't come easily. Instead, I end up thinking about Barron and the look on his face when he tore the necklace from my throat. What does he want from me? How dare he look at me like I'm the one that's done something wrong. He's been treating me like crap for years, and I'm supposed to feel bad because I'm not living up to his weird expectations? Screw that.

I push myself up to my feet, exploring the two small rooms that branch off the narrow hallway. The walls are made of stacked limestone with alcoves along the bottom, just the right size to stack barrels of alcohol. Above those, old wooden shelves lie empty, stamped with barely visible scribbles from the bootleggers who used this place. Whiskey is written on one, Moonshine on another.

I run my fingers over the old wood, exploring every possible means of escape before I settle on what I already knew: there is no getting out of here without help. Even though I know there's no point, I move up the stone steps and push against the metal grate.

Using the bells between classes, I mark the hours until class is over, sitting on the top step and waiting until I hear the back doors of the school open up.

“Hey!” I shout, waiting as the footsteps come closer. Raz appears, smirking at me through the slats in the grate. I frown at him as he unlocks it and shoves it aside, wearing only his white dress shirt, the sleeves pushed up, revealing strong arms corded with muscle. “I'm surprised you came to let me out,” I quip as I climb the steps and emerge squinting into the late afternoon sun.

“None of the others wanted to let you out. You should thank me.” Raz leans in, much like he did this morning. I don't move away, and my defiance seems to amuse him. “Well, it's true. Let it be known that I appreciate ruthlessness.” He stands up straight, giving me some space. I can still smell him, this mix of laundry detergent, crisp pine, and zesty orange.

“Just don't expect me to drop to my knees and suck you off as a sign of my gratitude.” I flip my hair and move around him, but Raz reaches out to snatch my wrist, grabbing too hard, holding too tight. I glance back at him, ready for a fight,