Wicked Princess (Royal Hearts Academy) Read online

  “Nah, little sis. You’re the cheerleading captain,” Cole muses.

  I gesture to my crutches. “That might be an issue.”

  Sadness flickers in Cole’s eyes. “Yeah.”

  “But hey,” Jace says. “You were close to the girls on the squad so I’m sure whoever the new captain is will let you hang out with them.”

  Cole snorts. “Not likely.”

  “Would you shut up?” Jace mutters. “I’m not trying to scare her.”

  And here they go talking about me like I’m not even in the room again.

  “Why would I be scared?”

  “Because Royal Hearts Academy isn’t a regular high school,” Dylan says from the doorway.

  “It’s hell on earth,” Sawyer adds with a shudder. “The whole place is filled with rich evil spawns whose only talent consists of swiping their parents’ credit cards and tossing rude insults to the less fortunate.”

  Damn. That doesn’t sound like someplace I’d want to be at all.

  I swallow thickly. “Really?”

  Jace blows out a breath. “So much for that.”

  “Sorry,” Sawyer says. “But I’d want to know what I was getting into if I was her.” Glancing my way again, Sawyer adds, “I’m sorry for freaking you out.” She gestures to my cheerleading uniform. “On the bright side, you’re really pretty and popular, so I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

  “She was popular,” Dylan mutters.

  When we all look at her, she shrugs and says, “Bianca has amnesia which means she’s at a disadvantage and officially fresh meat to them.” She points to herself. “And as someone who was also the newbie during her senior year, I feel it’s only fair to give you some advice.”

  I’m all ears. “What’s that?”

  “Get some thick skin and don’t take any crap from anyone because those vultures are going to hop on you like flies on shit tomorrow.”

  My stomach churns. “Oh.”

  “She’s a Covington, babe,” Jace argues. “No one will mess with her.”

  Despite his reassuring words, I see apprehension etching his features.

  Cole plops down on my bed and sighs. “No one would mess with her if we still went there…but we don’t.” He looks at Jace. “Which means we can’t protect her anymore.”

  Jesus. They’re making this place sound like a damn warzone instead of an educational institution.

  “I’ll be fine,” I assure everyone.

  Besides, how bad could it possibly be?

  Chapter 11

  Jace halts me the moment I open the car door. “You need money for lunch.”

  “Oh…right.”

  He hands me a fifty-dollar bill. “Here.”

  I blink. “Uh…this must be lunch money for the month, right?”

  “Nope,” Dylan says from the passenger seat. “Not if you want a decent meal in this place.”

  Shooting him a grateful smile, I tuck it into my purse and haul my backpack over my shoulders.

  “Thanks for giving me a ride. See you at three.”

  Grabbing my crutches, I hop to my feet.

  As Jace gets out of the car.

  “What are you doing?”

  He shrugs like it’s no big deal. “Walking you inside.” Pounding on his chest, he looks around the parking lot that’s full of people. “Because I’m her big brother. And I will fuck all of you little shit stains up if you mess with her.”

  Not taking his threat seriously, a few kids nearby start howling with laughter.

  “Dude, you went here like forty years ago,” some guy calls out. “No one gives a shit about you anymore.”

  More laughter. Perfect.

  Heat flushes over my cheeks. I literally want the ground to swallow me up. Or rather, swallow Jace up so he’d quit embarrassing me.

  I look to Dylan for help.

  Fortunately, she’s quick on the uptake. “Stop it, Jace. Bianca will be fine.”

  My brother isn’t having it though. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

  Dylan crooks a finger at him. “Come here.”

  When he does, she whispers something in his ear that has his eyes turning dark and hazy with lust.

  Yuck.

  Jace looks at me. “On second thought, I think you can handle this on your own.”

  ‘Thank you,’ I mouth to Dylan as Jace hops into the driver’s seat.

  It seems I was all wrong about her because she’s actually pretty cool.

  Drawing in a deep breath, I shuffle my way inside the building.

  It feels like everyone’s eyes are on me the entire time and there’s a shit-ton of whispers following in my wake.

  Things like, “I thought she died?”

  Or, “I can’t believe she’s back. Caitlyn’s going to flip.”

  And, “Check out that gnarly scar on her neck.”

  I’m so focused on keeping my head down and not making any waves, I bump right into someone on the way to my locker.

  “Watch where you’re going, freakshow,” some girl chirps.

  “Sorry,” I mutter to the pretty, slender blonde.

  With her flawless makeup and perfectly styled hair, she looks like she belongs on a magazine cover.

  I can’t help but notice the group of equally pretty girls surrounding her like a pack of wolves.

  Ready to pounce.

  I eye the blue and white gym bag she’s holding. It matches the one I have in my closet. Right next to my cheerleading uniforms and pom-poms.

  “Are you a cheerleader?”

  If so, these are the girls I’m supposed to be friends with. Although they look the opposite of friendly right now.

  The girl scrunches her face. “Wow. That accident must have taken all your brain cells too.”

  People start to gather around us, forming a circle.

  “Man, Caitlyn has balls,” some guy calls out.

  “Come on, Bianca,” another guy shouts. “Let her have it.”

  I don’t want to fight. I just want to meet my friends and make it through this school year in peace.

  “Caitlyn, right?” My shoulders slump. “Look, I think we got off on the wrong foot. Things are a little foggy for me since I just got out of the hospital and I have amnesia—”

  Caitlyn takes a step in my direction, causing me to back up.

  “Let’s get one thing straight, freak. I don’t give a shit about you and neither does anyone else here. As far as we’re all concerned, you died in that accident along with your little lesbian lover.”

  My head swirls.

  Died?

  Lesbian lover?

  “Someone d-died?” I question, not understanding.

  Jace and Cole never told me anything about the accident.

  Then again, given the way I reacted to Mom and Liam’s death, why would they?

  My heart folds in on itself.

  Another death.

  My throat locks up. I can’t breathe.

  “I—uh. I have to go.”

  I feel like I’m going to be sick.

  Correction: I am going to be sick.

  My stomach lurches as bile works up my esophagus. I need to get to the bathroom before I puke in front of everyone. “Move, please.”

  “Don’t tell me to move, cunt,” Caitlyn hisses.

  Okay, fine. I’ll move.

  Only I can’t…because the crew of girls spreads out, blocking me from leaving.

  No, no, no. “Please, mo—”

  It’s too late.

  My stomach jerks in one big wave and before I can stop myself, I’m puking my corn flakes all over Caitlyn’s shoes.

  People start howling with laughter.

  “Damn. The bitch is back,” someone cackles.

  “I’m sorry,” I say between dry heaves. “I’m so sor—”

  She pushes me, but since I’m not too good on my feet yet, I wobble and teeter.

  Right before I end up slipping on my own pool of vomit.

  “Ew. That’s so gross,” someone whines.

  Some girl makes a gagging sound causing everyone to laugh.

  “What a train wreck.”

  No argument here, because that’s exactly what I feel like right now.

  I tried my best to clean up in the bathroom, but there’s still a faint vomit stench that lingers in my skirt.

  One that everyone can’t help but point out whenever I enter a classroom.

  It got so bad, I had no choice but to text Jace and ask if he could drop off another uniform for me.

  He did, of course, but it did nothing to stop the whispers and snide comments.

  I walked in here today wanting so badly to reconnect with my friends and fit in, but I’m officially a social pariah.

  I end up spending my lunch in the bathroom because people refused to let me join them at their table.

  For someone who was so popular, the old Bianca doesn’t seem to have a true friend in sight.

  And this new Bianca?

  Well, she’s downright lonely.

  The only thing I can do is apologize to Caitlyn and offer to buy her new shoes.

  Hell, maybe she and I—along with the rest of the team—can go on a shopping trip after school.

  We can gossip, they can fill me in on everything I’ve missed since I’ve been gone, and I can get to know them again.

  We were all friends once, so that means they had to have liked me at some point.

  I just need to find the right time to approach Caitlyn and the rest of the team so I can hash things out.

  Fortunately, I get my chance when they walk into the bathroom.

  Tossing the rest of my sandwich out in a nearby trashcan, I cut my gaze to her.

  “Look, Caitlyn, I’m really sorry—”

  A sharp punch to my cheek has me seeing stars.

  Stunned, I cup my now throbbing cheekbone. “What the hell?”

  “Lock the door,” Caitlyn instructs.

  I hear the faint click of the latch and the remaining group of girls form a tight circle around me.

  I reach for my crutches that are leaning against the sink, but they’re snatched away. “Not so fast, bitch.”

  I look around at all of them. I’m not sure why they’re being so mean to me, but the pure hatred in their eyes tells me whatever happened between us is bad.

  Real bad.

  “I don’t—”

  Another sharp punch to my cheek sends my head reeling.

  Past…

  I clap my hands. “Let’s go, bitches!”

  Swear to God, these worthless whores couldn’t dance their way out of a paper bag.

  The routine isn’t even that hard.

  I press a button on the speaker and music floods the gymnasium. “Again.”

  A groan of irritation ripples through my chest as I watch Amber turn and shimmy in the wrong direction, bumping straight into Caitlyn.

  Of course, this causes a domino effect and sends the rest of the line teetering and swaying like tree branches in a hurricane.

  Only way less graceful.

  “Oh, for Christ’s sake.” My hands clench into fists. “You motherfucking idiots.”

  I march over to Amber. “Remind me again why the fuck you’re on my team when you’re too stupid to know your lefts from your rights. You just ruined the entire formation, dumbass.”

  “Maybe if you gave her a break it wouldn’t have happened,” Caitlyn snaps. “We’ve been practicing for three hours now without so much as a sip of water.”

  I glare at her. “Oh, you want some water?” Snatching my water bottle off the table, I pour the contents over her head. “How’s this?”

  Everyone gasps as it soaks her hair and shirt, but I don’t care.

  I’m so tired of these assholes expecting handouts and free rides.

  These bitches have to learn.

  The real world isn’t fair and the sooner they realize that, the better.

  Because if they want to keep their spots on my team, they’ll have to continuously work their asses off for it, because being a cheerleader is more than a pretty uniform and pom-poms.

  Hands on my hips, I walk down the line, giving each of them their daily critique.

  “Renee, do you know how to count?”

  Confusion colors her face. “Uh, yeah.”

  “Then why are you consistently a second late on your jumps?”

  Clearly embarrassed, she looks down. “I don’t know.”

  “Well, I suggest you figure it the fuck out. Otherwise you’ll be standing outside school tomorrow morning wearing a t-shirt that reads, ‘I don’t know how to count to three because I’m a dumbass.’”

  I move down the line. “Courtney, how many times do I have to tell you to point your toes during a toe touch?”

  Her lower lip trembles. “I-I’m sorry.”

  “Yeah, a sorry excuse for a cheerleader.” I make a karate chop with my hands. “Toe touches are different than holding your legs in the air while your ugly boyfriend screws you in his shitty truck for forty seconds. Your legs need to be straight and your toes need to be pointed at all times. Don’t make me have to tell you again.”

  Sighing, I move on to the next girl. Morgan. She’s been a thorn in my side for as long as I’ve known her and doesn’t deserve to be here.

  However, she does have a certain talent.

  Too bad it doesn’t involve cheerleading.

  It’s just one of many reasons why I stole the team captain spot from her.

  “I’m not gonna sugarcoat this, heifer. Drop five pounds or I’m dropping your fat ass from the squad.” Leaning over, I hiss, “I don’t care what you offer this time.”

  Morgan isn’t actually fat, but she’s not in shape like the rest of us which means her jumps aren’t high enough and it’s noticeable.

  She starts to speak, but I hold up my hand, focusing on the next girl.

  The one responsible for sending everyone tumbling earlier. “Amber, give me your right hand.”

  When she does, I draw the letter R on it with a black Sharpie. Then I draw the letter L on her left.

  Maybe this will teach the idiot her rights from her lefts.

  Because I’m still so fired up, I write the word stupid on her forehead for good measure.

  “Don’t wash these off until you convince me otherwise. Got it?”

  Teary-eyed, she nods.

  I move to the last girl. Caitlyn.

  Last year she actually voted for me to be team captain instead of Morgan, but this year it’s like she’s determined to fight with me every step of the way.

  Fortunately for her, I can’t kick her off the squad because she’s good.

  Really good.

  I can, however, put her in her place.

  “And you. I really hope you’re not planning on being a professional cheerleader because the only thing you’ll ever be good at is spreading your legs. Just like your gold-digging mother.”

  Fire flashes in her eyes and I dare her with mine to mouth off because I’ll send her packing with her tail between her legs.

  I get uncomfortably close to her face. “Got something to say?”

  She opens her mouth like she’s going to, but thinks better of it.

  My smile is wicked. “Smart girl.”

  I clap my hands and turn the music back on. “Again, humpty dumpties.”

  Chapter 12

  The pain pounding through my skull is so bad my vision becomes blurry.

  There are so many kicks and punches coming my way, there’s no way I can possibly deflect them all.

  The only thing I can do is curl up in a ball on the floor as they continue giving me what I deserve.

  No wonder they all hate me so much. I was downright awful to them.

  Someone leans over me. Amber, I think.

  She takes out a Sharpie and begins scribbling something on my forehead.

  “I’m sorry.”

  A bolt of pain shoots through my eye socket. “Shut up.”

  A scream tears from my throat as someone else snatches a fistful of my hair and another girl plugs my nose.

  A moment later liquid fills my mouth. I choke and sputter on the water, trying to get some air into my lungs, but it’s no use.

  Caitlyn laughs like it’s the funniest thing she’s ever seen. “Enjoying your water?” She leans in. “What’s that? You want some more?”

  My lungs burn and white spots form in front of my eyes.

  I’m gonna die.

  And the worst part is…I can’t even fault them for what they’re doing.

  Because I created this…created them.

  Or rather, she did.

  Finally, the torture ends.

  “Tell anyone we did this to you, and it will be ten times worse next time,” Amber hisses.

  It hurts so bad, I can’t even speak.

  Caitlyn grabs my crutches. “I’d be nice and give these back, but you’re a wicked little bitch who doesn’t deserve shit.”

  She passes my crutches to another girl. “Burn them.” Crouching down, she spits in my face. “Don’t ever breathe in our direction again, got it?”

  Tears spring to my eyes and I nod.

  I feel so humiliated, so dejected.

  So worthless.

  Cackling, Amber snaps a picture of me on her phone. “Oh, how the mighty have fallen.”

  “They did what?” my father booms as he strides into the hospital room.

  The same one I was discharged from three days ago.

  How’s that for irony?

  On the upside, most of the damage is in the form of bruises that make my face and body look like a paint by numbers portrait.

  Well, apart from the broken rib that throbs with every breath I take.

  “They fucking jumped her,” Jace explains, growing more irate by the second.

  “Remind me again what the jail time is for hiring a hitman to take out a group of high school skanks?” Cole grunts.

  Sawyer rubs his back. “I knew Bianca wasn’t always pleasant, but ganging up and jumping her in a bathroom is just…”

  “Beyond fucked up.” Expression full of disgust, Dylan looks at me. “Want me to give them a taste of their own medicine?”

  As much as I appreciate her offer, I don’t believe two wrongs make a right.

  Something tells me I can’t say the same about my former self.