Page 16 of Broken by my Bully (Lessons in Cruelty Dark Academia #1)

Haven

I glare at my expression in my car’s rearview mirror. Yesterday’s cloudy haze has solidified into a solid mass of pale gray clouds. The only light getting through is a pale shimmer.

It would be easy to blame the weather, but I look like a ghost because that’s how I fucking feel.

Another night of awful sleep. The few times I drifted off, the smallest sound would jolt me awake. Or my mind would summon a snapshot of Kai’s face. Either would be enough of a jump scare to send my heart racing.

I’m still trying to process what the fuck happened yesterday in the library.

No. I know what happened.

What it means.

If there was ever any doubt, it’s long gone now.

I burned my bridges when my best friend was still on the other side.

Kai Jordan despises me. He will not stop until I’m gone. Which is so fucked up, because if anyone should be angry, it’s me . He’s the one who broke a promise. He’s the one who chickened out like a loser .

But his hate is real, and it’s fucking terrifying.

But as the sun rose, as each hour passed, the intensity in his eyes took on a different meaning.

Not anger.

Lust.

Like how my fear transformed into confusion, curiosity…then something else.

I sucked Kai’s dick…and I liked it.

That sentence sets my mind on fire, but I’m obviously a sucker for punishment because I keep replaying it.

Especially the last part.

My underwear was so soaked when I got back to my car, I didn’t want to sit down in case it would get on the seat. But just like I sucked his dick when I didn’t want to, I sat down when I didn’t want to, and I tore out of AHC’s parking lot like a wayward angel fleeing hell.

I don’t know what made me come back.

Maybe, like yesterday, I think if I wait long enough, I can summon up the courage I need to face Kai’s wrath again.

Or maybe it’s his wrath I’m after.

I always knew he was better than me. The way he kept his shit together, even when I knew he had it worse. How he’d be brave, and strong, and proud all the time, and I was pathetic and weak and ashamed.

All. The. Time.

Except when he made me smile, or laugh.

I lived for our time together. I’d squeeze my hands into tiny fists and wish for the second hand of the clock to stream around and around in a blur.

Just so I could be with him again.

So, yeah, maybe that’s why I’m in the one place I shouldn’t be.

If Kai truly hates me as much as he says, then there’s no way we’ll ever be together .

Which means I don’t have to apologize for falling in love with him.

I glance at the clock on my car’s dashboard. Professor Rooke’s class starts in thirty minutes.

There’s no way I’m going to make it. I can’t even convince myself to open the car door and step outside. This dented-up sedan has become my little fort.

Outside, bad. Inside, good. Or at least, safe.

Shit. Kai still has my copy of The Lucifer Effect. Was Professor Rooke being serious when he said not to bother showing up if we hadn’t read the first ten chapters?

Despite all my doubts, despite all my fear, I play the part of a dutiful student, and scrape together my stuff for class. Slipping my notepad and pen into the AHC tote. I hesitate when I pick up the Activity Log.

There’s a queasy feeling in my stomach when I flip it open.

The first fresh page glares up at me.

I haven’t submitted a photo like I was supposed to. Haven’t written a single thing down in this book.

The sound of my dismal chuckle is as pathetic as I am.

You’d swear I don’t even want to graduate. Sure, I’ve started work on some of my other assignments. But Professor Rooke’s class is one of my prerequisites. If I fail, I’m out on my ass.

I dig my pen out of the tote bag and yank the lid off with my teeth, staring down at the blank page like it’s Kai’s smirking face. The nib of the pen leaves a dent in the page as I write with slow, furious intent.

Age: 5

Act: boy pushes me into mud puddle

Intent: a joke / shame

Impact: scraped hands and knees. clothes full of mud. dad was mad at me. cried.

My hand is shaking, but I keep going.

Interpretation: it wasn’t funny it hurt and got me into trouble + he knew it would because he did it a lot

CRUEL

I blow out a breath.

Fuck, that felt good, especially scrawling that last word. I go over it again, trying to make it neater and less serial-killery.

Age: 7

Act: boy ties me to tree

Intent: playing pretend / punishment

Impact: rope left marks. was scared he would leave me like that. cried. yelled until throat was sore.

Interpretation: he was mad at me because I laughed at him and this was his punishment two days later - he loved playing the long game

CRUEL!

On and on I go, my pen silent as I dredge up memories I didn’t realize I’d buried so deep.

I run out of steam and pause, pushing the pen in and out of its lid where I still have it trapped between my teeth. I stop when I miss my mark and stab myself in the lip.

“Fuck.” I swipe at my lips and turn to a new page. I’ve already filled six pages. I run my hand down the clean page, stalling for a long moment before putting pen to paper again.

Age: 4

Act: mom?—

There’s a rap on my car window. “Miss Lee? ”

“Fuck!” I yelp, spinning to face the window. I swear I can feel the color draining from my face as I spot Professor Rooke standing outside my car.

Of course.

Because Haven’s an idiot and gets so lost bitterly rehashing the past that she forgets she’s a sitting duck. I reluctantly roll down the window, wincing when it squeaks loudly.

“Hi,” I mutter, squinting up at Professor Rooke.

He leans in, laying his arm on the top of my car. Thank God he’s on this side—there are still streaks of apple pie on the passenger door. The faint creases at the corners of his eyes deepen as he narrows them.

“We’re both going to be late if we don’t get a move on.”

I drop my gaze. “Yeah, um…”

“I see you’ve made some progress on your journal.”

My eyes flit back to him. He’s staring at the open book in my lap. I hurriedly snap it shut, and then slip it into my tote.

“Yeah, uh…” I mumble, because apparently I’ve lost the ability to speak in full sentences.

“Good. It almost makes up for the fact that you haven’t submitted your art assignment yet.”

Then he opens my car door and holds out an arm like he has every right to invade my fucking privacy, but he’ll be a gentleman about it.

Which somehow activates my Disney princess mind-control setting, because I just grab my shit and get out.

Like this is just a normal day in the life of a college kid, when he’s, in fact, walking me to the executioner’s block.

“Yeah, uh, my phone…”

He shuts my car door and then looks at me, waiting. “Aren’t you going to lock your car?”

“Ha! Like there’s anything to steal in there. Your shoes cost more than the car and everything in it.”

I spin away from him, feeling my face turn crimson.

Age: 1 9

Act: girl calls herself out like a loser

Intent: who the fuck knows

Impact: utter mortification

Interpretation: Haven can’t handle her shit in front of her hot professor and only has herself to blame

CRUEL LAME

He says nothing, because not everyone at this college is a sadist. I try to fan myself without him noticing.

We head for the main campus building, his heavier footfalls bracketing mine as I take two steps for each of his.

I blame my flip-flops. One of them is on its last flop, and I keep having to wiggle my toes around to keep it on my foot.

“You do have one, don’t you?”

For a second, I think he’s asking if I have another shoe. “Oh, a phone? Yeah? Of course.” I pull it out of my tote as evidence. “I, uh, lost my charger. Only got a new one today.” The lie comes easily because I’m just dipping into past experience.

I hate phones.

Things were better before they were around. Now I have all this extra responsibility. Like remembering to charge it, trying not to drop it face first on the curb, keeping food off it when I eat and trying to read a text message at the same time.

And the cheap ones are so shitty. I assume.

“Then I expect your submission to reach me before the end of the day.”

A trio of students walking much faster than us zoom past, one of them glancing back to get a look at Rooke. When he makes eye contact, she bites her lip and quickly looks away, giggling.

She must be at least a year older than I am. Makes me feel so much better, knowing a sophomore can’t keep it together any better than I can.

“Are you going to tell me why you skipped class yesterday?”

I keep looking straight ahead, lest I blush again. “Sorry. And…I know you’re sick of hearing my apologies.” I swipe my hand out. “I’m not confessing, and not expecting forgiveness. ”

“Then how does this play out, Miss Lee?”

We ascend the steps into AHC, and my eyes automatically lock onto Nora as she peeks over the counter to see who’s coming inside. She smiles at me, and even gives a little wriggle of her fingertips, but that smile freezes when she sees Professor Rooke.

Then she ducks her head down like she doesn’t want to make eye contact.

Wow, that wasn’t weird at all.

“I’m not sure. I know I’m on my last strike, and…” Fuck, what am I supposed to say?

I clamp down on the inside of my lip, desperately trying to think my way out of this. Professor Rooke’s given me a small bump of courage, enough that I didn’t pee myself as we crossed the threshold.

But cowardice is setting in again.

If Kai sees me…

And I know he will, because he’s Professor Rooke’s fucking TA.

I blow out a breath, not realizing how loud it is in the hushed reception area as we head for the stairs to the first floor.

“It’s hard not to take this personally.”

My head whips to the side, neck craning so I can look up at my teacher. “What?”