Page 16 of Boys of Brayshaw High (Brayshaw High 1)

“You a Bray girl?”

“I’m a temporary fixture.”

“You all are.”

Now he’s pissing me off. “If you’re asking whether I go to Brayshaw, the answer is an unfortunate yes.”

He eyes me a moment. “That’s not at all what I’m asking.”

“You should work on being more direct, you know, having some balls. I’m out.” I spin and walk away and surprisingly, he lets me.

I decide to be a loner and witness the shenanigans from afar, so I take up shop against the cast iron fence lining the outer left edges of the backyard.

It’s chilly out so I’m guessing the pool must be heated, that or the people swimming in it are too buzzed to notice.

“Are you poppin’ a squat?”

I whip my head to the left, finding another girl from the group home making her way toward me with slow steps. “Am I pissing right here on the grass with all these people around?”

“Hey, whatever works,” she jokes. “There’s likely a couple fucking in the shower by now, so I can get why someone would rather piss in the grass.”

I laugh, turning my focus back to the partiers, and the girl drops down beside me.

“This place is ridiculous,” she mutters, shooting for annoyed but the envy is easily heard.

I glance around, and it’s easy to understand why she’d feel that way. Shit, the ugly ass stone statues scattered across the yard must cost more than every unit in my mom’s trailer park put together.

I turn to her. “Have you never been here?”

“Not this exact house, no, but plenty others just like it. Seeing how these assholes live and knowing where I’m sleeping at the end of the night, makes me kinda sick.”

I scoff. “What’s your story?”

“Mom left when I was two, Daddy liked his beer better than his baby.”

I nod. “So you a drunk too then?”

Her head jerks back and she gets a little loud. “Excuse me?”

“Clearly you don’t like being judged.” I raise an eyebrow. “So why are you summing up these people because they have money and you don’t? Don’t be a hypocrite.”

“You’re a real bitch, you know that?” She glares, but it quickly turns into a grin.

“So I’m told.” I laugh lightly. “And I’m guilty of it too most of the time.”

“We all are,” she responds, and I nod.

“I saw you talking to that guy in the house.”

When I turn to look at her, she squints.

“You know the Brayshaws hate them, right?”

“No, but he acted weird, like he knew I was from the other side of town, and Victoria had a fit telling me not to talk about going to school there, so I figured there was bad blood there or something.”

“Oh there is. The Brayshaws would flip if they knew we were here, but these guys never seem to care when people like us, the ones on the outside of the inner circle, hang around as long as we lay low. Honestly, I think the one you were talking to likes when we come to these things, even though he ignores us completely.”

“Why do you say that?”

She shrugs. “You know how people work. Gives him a bigger sense of power to know Brays are “defying” their masters.” She mocks with a laugh. “Anyway, yeah. They’re rivals, have been for years I guess, schools and families. I heard every year the Brayshaws beat them out by a mile in basketball, but for some reason they never bring home the championship title.”

“They choke in the finals?” I draw out unbelieving.

There’s no fucking way, not these boys.

“I don’t know. There’s rumors Graven sabotaged them each year but the Brays don’t speak about it. If something was done to ruin things, they handle that shit quietly. I heard after losing Sophomore season finals, they even disappeared for a few weeks. Nobody knows why, and nobody dared to ask.”

My eyes drop to the grass in thought. Graven. That was what Royce called the cop who searched Maddoc on the courts.

“So wait ... this is a Graven party?”

“Yep, Graven Prep.”

Huh.

I decide to keep the questions running through my mind to myself because what business is it of mine? And who the hell knows if what she’s saying holds any truth.

“What’s your name again?”

She opens her mouth to tell me, but we’re cut off.

“Vienna, Raven!” We both jerk our heads toward Nira when she whisper-yells from the side fence, her eyes wide. “Hurry! We gotta go!”

“Shit,” the girl beside me, Vienna I guess it is, hisses in a panic and hops up, jogging Nira’s way. “Come on!”

I’m slower to stand, and right as I do, shouting begins, crowds of people forming a thick cluster beside the pool.

I walk toward the fence, my eyes flicking between the girls waiting at the back gate for me and the partiers who have turned to stone where they stand.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing in my house?” someone barks, but I’m not close enough to see who he’s talking to.