Ruthless (Black Mountain Academy) - Mila Crawford Page 0,12

her face. She didn’t answer right away, instead just smiled at me. Normally, I treated Tammy better than everyone else, but in that second she was irritating my last nerve. I didn’t know what was going on in her head but I was sure whatever it was, it wasn’t something that I’d find agreeable. I shot her a look that let her know that I wasn’t playing.

“Michael Jones’ kickass mansion.”

I knew the gated estate overlooking the lake and Black Mountain beyond. It dripped with old-money charm and I hated it. “I’ll be there.”

“Seriously?” Tamlin spat, almost choking on a piece of lettuce. Tamlin’s shock was warranted. I’d never been interested in going to a school party before. But then again, I’d never been intrigued by anyone like the little mouse either. It shocked me that she had agreed to go to the party. She didn’t look the type, but neither did I, and I’d partaken in many. The biggest shock of all was the fact that ever since the night at the pool, I hadn’t been able to think about anything but her.

Her warm gray eyes haunted me with defiant intrigue, her words shaking me to my very core. No one had done that before, at least not in a very long time. She made me feel uncomfortable, raw, and worst of all, she made me feel like I was out of control.

It was unfortunate for her that she was the first person that was able to make me feel anything in the last eight years.

“I’m always up for a house party, why not?” I tipped the ridiculous crystal water glass to my lips and took a sip. “I like the people-watching.” At my words, my mother finally looked up from her plate, finally looking present and interested. “Don’t worry, Monica, I don’t like the drugs as much as my mother does,” I spat, my eyes beaming directly in her direction.

I knew my comment wasn’t completely fair but it wasn’t a lie. I also regretted it as soon as I said it because technically my mother had been clean for six years. I should have had more forgiveness in my heart and all that shit, but my heart was as black as night. Monica may be as nice as everyone thought she was, but she was also completely void of contributing anything of real substance. She was too busy burying her head, maybe too scared of facing off against my father and rocking her very comfortable boat. My mother was a good person, everyone liked her and respected her, but she was far from the perfect mother.

“Kyler. Get bent!” Tamlin yelled from across the large table. “You really need to sort your shit, you can’t just keep being so hurtful to people.” The truth of her words cut like jagged glass.

“Well, I’ll see you at the party.” I stood, needing to get away from the table as quickly as I could. Seeing my mother watch me with those vacant, sad eyes was haunting. For a time she was there, but when I needed her most, she wasn’t. I still had a hard time getting beyond it.

I probably never would.

9

“Those who find ugly meanings in beautiful things are corrupt without being charming. This is a fault. Those who find beautiful meanings in beautiful things are the cultivated. For these there is hope. They are the elect to whom beautiful things mean only Beauty. There is no such thing as a moral or an immoral book. Books are well written, or badly written. That is all.” ― Oscar Wilde, The Picture of Dorian Gray

Madison

“You look great, stop fidgeting.” Tamlin watched me with an amused smile on her face. It was the tenth time I was smoothing my hair and touching the loose beach waves she’d crimped. When Tamlin finished with my makeover, I was speechless, staring in the mirror, stunned at the massive transformation. I was so used to walking around in ponytails, jeans and t-shirts, now I was in fitted black pants and a glittery tank top that left very little to the imagination. She also tried to get me to wear stilettos but her feet were two sizes too small, so on my feet instead were my usual chucks.

“I told you that the shoes were off.” Tamlin pointed at my shoes and giggled. I wasn’t sure why, but her comment made me regret my decision to turn down a pair of Monica’s shoes. I was never the type of girl