Unlovable: The Ben & Libby Series, #1

By Jamila Jasper

Benjamin Fox, the heir to a billion dollar fortune, develops a dark obsession with African American scholarship student, Libby Jones.

She stands up to him. Once.
It's like she doesn't know her place and Ben has to teach her...

Libby's first semester at Rapetti Academy has been complete hell from day one.

Attracting the attention of her bully's cruel, twisted boyfriend just makes the situation worse.

Avoiding drama at a small, English boarding college is downright impossible...

Especially when an entitled 6'5" rugby player makes Libby his new favorite toy.

This is book 1 in a completed 6 book dark interracial romance series with potential triggers, no cheating and a guaranteed HEA. Dive into this collection of slow-burn interconnected spicy bwwm romance books...

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jamila Jasper
• Release date: Nov 23, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223897415

Jamila Jasper

Jamila Jasper is a 32-year-old romance author who just moved to a small corner of New England. She's always been in love with black romantic comedies and writing interracial romance fan fiction. This love of writing has morphed into a passion for publishing BWWM novels. Jamila concocts, sweet full-length romance novels with guaranteed happily ever after endings, each one with a creative, strong female lead and an attractive, caring white man. Sign up for her e-mail list here to receive FREE stories, exclusive offers and an update of Jamila's publication schedule:  Bit.ly/jamilajasper  Hit this link to get text message updates from me: https://slkt.io/gxzM

Book preview

DESCRIPTION

This is a dark romance. You may find some of the content in this book disturbing or triggering. I cannot warn you about every possible trigger but there will be strong language, violence, graphic scenes and disturbing content ahead. Proceed with caution.

She fell for her British bully…

She wasn't supposed to love a brute.

When Liberty Libby Jones arrived at Rapetti Academy, she's noticed by the worst of the worst: Benjamin Randall Fox.

As an international transfer student at an Italian-founded private boarding school tucked away in the Northern English countryside, Libby finds herself at the mercy of boys who have never taken no for an answer.

Forced to contend with a new school, a horrid roommate and bullies around every corner who want her to leave their upper-crust playground, the new girl has to find a way to hack it -- or pack her bags and flee back to the United States in shame.

BRITISH BULLY SERIES

The completed 6 book series

The Ben & Libby Series

Unlovable

Unattainable

Undesirable

Unwanted

Unraveled

Unbroken

***

The spin-off series

The Crispin & Amina Series

Despicable

Damaged

Depraved

Deranged

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Thank you to all my readers, new and old for your support with this new year.

I look forward to making 2024 an INCREDIBLE year for interracial romance novels.

I want to thank you all for joining along on the journey. Thank you to my editor, Rosie M. for all your help getting everything right. Without your assistance, I would have been completely lost.

Thank you to my Patrons.

www.patreon.com/jamilajasper

Never bend your head. Always hold it high. Look the world right in the eye. 

HELEN KELLER

CHAPTER 1

UNFUCKABLE

Finding a spot in the caf was the worst part of the day. After three weeks here, I should have gotten used to it — the stares, the whispers, the snide remarks exhaled by other Year 12 and Year 13s about my shoes, my uniform, or most recently, my hair. If there was something different about my uniform compared to everyone else’s, I couldn’t figure it out yet. Everything about me was wrong here.

Survive. You just have to survive two years at Rapetti Academy. 

Surviving two years was shaping up to be a crazy project. I should have had friends after the third week. The only person I could even call a friend was Isla, and she never ate in the caf. She stuffed an apple into her bag and hurried to the library where she spent the rest of the afternoon after morning classes. I normally joined Isla, but today, I had a late meeting with a professor. No time for the library and no chance of skipping lunch since I couldn’t grab dinner early.

Today, I promised myself I wouldn’t let eating alone bother me. I grabbed an apple, some haddock and asparagus spears, and a sad helping of baked beans before finding a table in the dining hall’s corner. To get to that haven amongst a sea of sharks, I had to pass the rugby boys’ table, the art freaks (I was a bigger freak than any of them), and the popular girls. Jess and her court of minions hung onto her every word as she bragged about her latest sexual escapade with Ben. Or past sexual escapades with older men. The art freaks laid scraps of fabric all over their tables and most of them barely ate, only passing time in the caf to warm up before their next smoke break. 

And the rugby boys… they selected a weak target and swatted them around like lions running down a gazelle. I held my head high and gripped my tray, prepared to ignore any quips thrown in my direction.

Eating alone, loser? Blair snapped at me. Jess giggled and elbowed her in the side.

Doesn’t she look like she’s always eating? Jess teased.

I ignored both of them and skirted her table, prepared to pass the art freaks who at their worst would throw a helping of baked beans in my direction, but weren’t like to do any worse. I lucked out. They barely looked up from their phones. A glance over at Jamie Douglas’ phone told me they were working on a late assignment and too busy to take notice of me.

The last table would be the hardest for me to get past. Rugby boys. They hated me as much as I hated them. Scratch that, they hated me more. I sucked my stomach in reflexively before passing them as if I could shrink myself so small that they wouldn’t notice me. My hands tightened around my tray and my apple slid around the edge of the tray. I was nearly past them when he spoke. 

Liberty Jones. Why don’t you have a seat with us?

I froze, prepared to melt into the floor. I took another step, and he flipped his chair around, sticking out his leg.

What are you, deaf? I’m talking to you, Benjamin Fox said.

I faced him, inhaling sharply.

Yes, Ben. I can hear that. I’m going to my seat.

Right, then.

He pulled out the empty chair next to him. A quick scan of his table led me to identify the missing teammate.

What about Jezza? 

He’s meeting Miss Beauchamp for French practice.

The other boys at the table snickered. My cheeks grew hot.

He’ll be back any minute I’m sure.

I stepped over Ben’s outstretched leg when he reached forward and grabbed my hand, nearly unbalancing the tray.

Careful! I snapped.

Sit. Now.

Or what?

Or I’ll embarrass you in front of everyone.

His mate Theo laughed.

It’ll be a laugh, mate. Do it.

Ben smirked, visibly disinterested in Theo’s suggestion and entirely obsessed with one outcome: getting me to obey him. I refused.

I will not sit. I don’t care if you tip my tray.

Perhaps you’ll care if I pull your skirt down, then.

His hand reached for my uniform skirt. He tugged on the blue and green tartan so the elastic waistband loosened around my waist.

Stop it.

I moved back and bumped straight into one of his tattooed minion’s chairs. He pushed me closer to Ben.

Watch it, love. 

I couldn’t escape. My heart raced. I knew how we’d deal with people like him in St. Louis. But I wasn’t in St. Louis anymore. And I’d made the sorry American mistake of thinking British boys were shy and polite.

By now, we’d attracted the attention of a few onlookers. The popular girls, Blair, and Chanel stared at us.

What would your girlfriend think about you pulling my skirt down in front of the entire school?

She’d dump me... but then she’d take me back. I know how to treat her right.

More like eat her right, Theo laughed, following up with a lewd gesture.

Sit. Now, Ben ordered again, his grip on my skirt tightening.

By now, even the art students stared up from their phones in rapt attention at whatever I planned to do next. I had no choice. Humiliate myself — again — or obey him. I set my tray down on the rugby boys’ table and sat next to Ben.

I’m so going to regret this, I thought to myself. Ben pushed my chair in, almost like a gentleman.

Good girl, he whispered into my ear. 

I clenched the sides of my tray, fighting the urge to throw my apple at him.

Now boys, let’s have some fun with this one.

Aye mate, Liam McTavish leaned in and reached for the haddock on my plate with his fork.

You’re going to pick who Theo’s going to lose his virginity to this weekend. Then we’ll let you go, Ben announced.

I slammed my fork on my tray and scowled as if that would do any good.

Wanker! I’m not a bloody virgin, Theo griped.

You are a virgin. Almost getting it up for Claire at the Yule Party last year doesn’t make you experienced.

I wanted to disappear. Everyone in the cafeteria who wasn’t at the table was whispering about us. I could hear bits and pieces of what they said echoing around the room. I hated it. I hated more how blissfully unaware the dickheads at my table were about the entire thing. Maybe they just didn’t care about gossip. They played rugby after all. Everyone talked about them. Everyone.

Libby, Ben yanked my attention back to the task at hand, Who do you think he should lose it to, Priscilla or Ellie.

I dunno. Doesn’t the girl usually get a say?

Nobody says no to a rugby boy, Ben replied.

He deserved a good kick in the nuts.

Liam polished off my haddock and with a mouthful of the foul white fish, he pointed his fork at me.

What about her?

Libby? Ben scoffed.

Yeah. She’s American. They’re easy.

Theo scowled.

No way, mate. My mum would kill me if I brought home a black girl.

I’m right here, you asshole, I snapped.

Theo shrugged.

I’m being honest.

Ben smirked.

Calm down, Libs. And Liam, no. He can’t fuck Libby this weekend. I mean come on, look at her... She’s... unfuckable.

I slammed my fork down on the table and shot to my feet.

"You are such a fucking twat!" 

That one I’d picked up quickly. It’s the perfect insult. And suited Ben perfectly. Ben grinned. Everyone stared at me. Everyone. He got exactly what he wanted — my public humiliation.

He dragged me back to my seat.

Now sit, he snarled. 

I sat down and smoothed my skirt, trying to play it cool. But it wasn’t cool. Nothing about it was cool. Liam broke the silence by laughing.

You’re so right, Ben. She’s completely unfuckable. Way too angry.

Ben smirked and then leaned in again. I could have punched him then. I kind of wish I had.

Thanks for helping me out, Libby. Jess will be so pissed you’re sitting with me.

Whatever. I’m done here.

Ben reached over and squeezed my thigh. My impulses caved in. I had to lash out. Do something. Keep a bit of St. Louis in me. I smacked his hand.

Just what do you think you’re doing?

His hand shot back, but he kept that cocky grin on his face. He was testing me.

I told you, no one says no to rugby boys.

I think you should fuck Jess, I said to Theo. 

Ben’s smirk let up for just a second. Theo leaned in, eyes gleaming.

Would you really let me do that, mate?

No, wanker. I wouldn’t.

I smirked. Finally, I had him hot and bothered for once.

Why not, everyone says Jess is easy and anyway... no one says no to rugby boys?

I grabbed my tray and rose, feeling awfully satisfied that for once, I’d pulled one over on that asshole Ben.

Bitch... he muttered under his breath. I took one step away from the table and that’s when it happened. I didn’t realize what he’d done at first, but then my legs slid out from under me and my tray went flying. Goodbye apple, goodbye half-eaten asparagus spears, and goodbye cranberry juice.

I screamed and hit the floor with a loud, embarrassing thud.

CHAPTER 2

EARTH TO LOSER

I sat flat on my ass in the middle of the caf while Ben and the rest of the rugby boys laughed — and soon the entire room. I had already fallen so far that I didn’t think about what I was doing next. If I was thinking clearly, I wouldn’t have fucked with the most popular rugby player at school. I would have thought things through and maybe just stormed off in a huff. Instead, I got up, smoothed my skirt and took Ben’s water off the table and threw it on him.

That’s for calling me a bitch.

I stormed off, leaving my tray on the floor. That petty act of defiance wouldn’t win me any friends amongst the custodians or the lunch ladies. But I didn’t want anyone at Rapetti Academy to see me crying either. Two years. I had to survive two years here. I couldn’t make it eight weeks without getting into trouble. This scholarship kid thing might be harder than I thought.

After lunch, I had a Latin class with Professor Gould. He was such a creep. Not to me. He ignored me like everyone else at Rapetti did. He was more interested in Jess — Ben’s girlfriend. Most days, at the front of the class, hiking her skirt up a couple of inches so that her knees and milky thighs tantalized not just Gould but every other boy in the class and half the girls too. I sat behind her in class, not because I didn’t want to sit in the back where I could be blissfully unaware of her inappropriate flirtations, but because I didn’t have a choice. None of her minions took Latin. The soccer boys sat at the back and they were far worse than the rugby boys, if you can believe such horrors possible.

I sat in my seat. Seats weren’t assigned, but unspoken rules at Rapetti were more closely followed than the written ones. Gould was already in his classroom, preparing for our lesson translating Cicero.

Liberty.

That was how he greeted you. Saying your first name. Except the boys, who he greeted by last name. 

Good afternoon.

He turned to the blackboard. I couldn’t see what Jess or the other girls saw in him. He had a slender frame, a beak rather than a nose, and a crop of red hair that framed his steel-blue eyes. I hoped he would ignore me. No such luck.

Did you do your homework?

Yes. I’ve got it here.

Hm let me see it. If you have mistakes, you’ll have time to correct them.

He might have meant nothing by his suggestion, but I knew he expected mistakes from me more than any of the other students. I was black, American, and worst of all: I wasn’t posh.

Hm. It looks like there aren’t any mistakes. Let me check again.

There weren’t any mistakes. I was smarter than any of the brats in any of my classes. Surely they couldn’t believe I ended up here only because of my color or out of pity?

No mistakes. Very good, Libby. Did you have help with the homework?

No.

My tone bordered on rude. Gould cocked an eyebrow but ignored it. Perhaps he recognized how patronizing he sounded. Jess stomped into class seconds after. Gould straightened his back and his cheeks reddened.

Jess. You’re early.

She giggled — for no real reason.

Yes. I thought I might get help on my Latin homework.

Gould balked, looking from me to her.

Why don’t you have Libby help you.

Professor? Jess half-whined, shooting me a murderous glare. 

Yeah, I can’t stand you either, I thought to myself.

She’s done the translation perfectly. She can help you.

Gould turned back to the blackboard, preparing the translation of the Lord’s Prayer for us to work on. Private schools enjoyed wasting kids’ money. But it was nice to feel like we were in a proper old world classroom. Nice, but unnecessary. 

Unlike Jess, he wasn’t stupid enough to flirt in front of me. If word got out to his boss that Gould flirted (or worse) with the eighteen-year-old A-Level students under his care, he’d lose his job.

Jess harrumphed like a frustrated horse and sat next to me. With Gould’s back turned, I was entirely at her mercy.

She accused, I saw you flirting with my boyfriend, you little slag.

I wasn’t flirting with Ben, I said calmly, what part of the translation are you struggling with.

I saw you flirting with him, Jess accused.

She insisted on ignoring coursework in favor of grilling me about Ben, that royal idiot.

I swear to you, Jess, I wasn’t. You saw what happened.

You fell, like an absolute twat.

Ben tripped me.

So you were flirting, you lying slag.

If you call being tortured, flirting.

Stay away from my boyfriend. 

I intend to.

Good. Not like I have anything to worry about. 

Sure, Jess, I thought, girls who have nothing to worry about think their boyfriend’s victim is a threat. 

What part of the translation do you need help with?

Erm... Here.

She hadn’t done a single word of it.

You haven’t done it.

So?

I can’t help you do this entire translation right now. It took me hours!

But yours is perfect, right?

I wouldn’t say perfect...

Of course you wouldn’t. Let me copy off you.

We can both get in trouble for that.

I won’t get in trouble with Gould. I’ll offer him a whiff of my knickers and he’ll sort me.

I wrinkled my nose in disgust.

I’m only joking. Come on. Let me see it.

I don’t feel comfortable with that.

Jess’s eyes narrowed.

You were flirting with my boyfriend. You owe me. Or else...

Or else, what?

I’ll make your life a living hell.

My life was already a living hell at Rapetti. I had no friends, most of my teachers thought I was a charity case, and around every corner, English snobs insisted on tormenting me. Jess had one point: I couldn’t really afford for the situation to worsen.

Fine. You can copy off me this once. If Gould gets upset...

Thanks, babe.

Jess snatched my translation and hurriedly copied it in her scrappy handwriting and in a barely visible hot pink gel pen. Everything about her was so annoying. Once she finished, more of our classmates filtered in. Jess handed me back my paper.

So Libby the loser, what are your plans this weekend?

Library. Studying. Coursework.

Jess wrinkled her nose in a mixture of pity and disgust.

Don’t you have any friends?

Not here, I wanted to say. I pretended I didn’t hear her, which of course made no sense since she sat right next to me.

"Do you do… you know… the good stuff?"

My heart pounded as I glanced over at Gould. If he heard us, he didn’t say act like he did.

No.

Jess shrugged.

You will be the time Rapetti’s done with you. This place is... hell.

She didn’t understand how lucky she was to be here. None of them could. They were too sheltered.

Since you’re sober, you can drive then.

We aren’t allowed to have cars on campus, I parroted the rule book, only realizing that I sounded like a square once I’d finished.

My car’s not on campus, she whispered, Can you drive?

Yeah.

Good. You’ll be driving us then. Friday night, rugby bash off-campus. Theo’s dad is away at the UN summit, so he’s throwing a party.

Oh.

I’ll ask if I can invite you... you know, as my chauffeur.

She acted as if her offer should flatter me. I didn’t want to risk rebuffing her advances, even if I didn’t want to show up as her chauffeur or her lapdog.

It’ll be a laugh if you come, she continued, But maybe you’re cooler than you look Libby the loser.

Thanks, I replied.

She missed the sarcasm completely. 

So you’re coming? she asked.

This was my chance... to turn her down, to tell her off, to say that no way in hell would I debase myself by being her sober driver to a stupid, illegal off-campus party overrun by drugs, sex, and all these horribly stupid things other girls my age liked so much.

I scraped my feet on the ground as if I could dig myself into a hole and have it swallow me up. Jess wouldn’t be that patient.

Earth to loser-Liberty? I asked you a question. 

CHAPTER 3

BAD CHOICES

I was a complete idiot for saying yes. Jess wasn’t just a bitch, she was the bitch of our entire year. She’d just recruited me as her bitch so instead of submitting another perfect Cicero translation or my Lit essay for Professor March, I would stand in a corner of some stupid party waiting for Jess and her friends to finish whatever popular girls do at parties down here. I wouldn’t know. I’d never been invited to one.

On Friday, Jess sat next to me in Latin.

Homework, Libby, she sang.

I passed my paper over to her.

This would be much easier if you learned how to translate, I sniped.

I don’t need to learn Latin, Jess said, sounding genuinely confused at the notion that she might attend a fancy college like this for the education.

Aren’t you here for an education?

If she was going to copy my homework, she could handle a bit of snark.

I’m here so I can go to St. Andrews and get ‘qualified’ to inherit daddy’s estate. Trust funds. Full of legal bullshit.

Right...

What an idea, thinking I could get through to Jess. She copied my homework quickly and then leaned over my little desk.

What are you wearing to Theo’s?

Sweatpants.

Jess gasped. Professor Gould didn’t turn around. He was writing the Lord’s Prayer in Latin on the blackboard.

You can’t be bloody serious.

I’m not properly invited... I’m just your driver.

I don’t want to put the effort in for a stupid party where I don’t even like anybody. I’m not here to make friends, anyway. I’m here to get an education and then leave. I already hate it here. These rich people stayed tripping day in and day out. Especially Jess.

I don’t want my driver looking like shit.

Jess was at least practical.

I have nothing to wear.

Jess leaned in and made a half-mocking sad face before she asked, Are you like... poor?

What sort of question is that?

It was the best defense I had. Poor? Yes. We were poor. I had less than the groundskeeper at this fancy private school. I saw the cottage he lived in and it was ten times bigger than where I grew up. Jess ignored my snappy comment and gave me a scrutinizing once over.

I have a dress from before I started my diet that might fit you. It’s ok Libby, I used to be fat too.

I’m not... never mind.

She brought the dress back to my room after classes. I was just lucky that my roommate wasn’t there. That would have made the awkward dress exchange even worse. Jess’s idea of a party dress was scandalous. The cobalt dress hugged my curves far too tightly and squeezed my boobs together so they nearly spilled out of the strapless top. She was way more flat-chested than I was. By a long shot. I grabbed a black cardigan out of my closet to cover up.

Jess texted me. The only person at Rapetti Academy to have my phone number and it’s Jess… 

Walk off campus toward the boathouse. Don’t turn left at the fork. Go right. My car is the white Mercedes. Get there...now.

So much for a damn heads up. When Jess micromanaged my outfit, she didn’t bother to tell me what shoes I was supposed to wear with a dress like this.

My phone buzzed again.

Are you coming?

Shit. She’d have my head if I didn’t show up on time. I texted back: Shoe problems.

WEAR. HEELS.

That would have been perfectly fine advice if I owned a pair of heels. I had a pair my first week here, but my roommate ripped them up to demonstrate how bad quality my cheap shoes were. I flung my sparse closet open and saw the only pair of shoes that wouldn’t make me look like a complete idiot: white Adidas sneakers. I could imagine Jess squealing over my trainers faux pas, but she would be much, much worse if I was late.

What the hell am I doing hurrying up on Jess’s command? I thought to myself. The answer was obvious. She wasn’t a friend and of course, the party would be horrid, but at least they’d invited me. At least when Aunt Rita called, I could say that I did something other than study and think about the past.

I ran to the car. It took me way too long to find the stupid thing, but fuck, her car was nice. I never knew a kid could have a car this nice. I knew nothing about cars, but I knew when I was looking at a nice one. Shiny. Silver details. Clean. Jess and her friends weren’t even there yet.

Where are you? I texted.

Sorry, bbz x. Jezza broke up with Chlo. Need a minute.

Great. I raced all the way over here, messing up my curls all to have to wait another thirty minutes for a posh girl breakup. I leaned against Jess’s car and her car alarm went off — loudly.

The stupid thing finally stopped after an agonizing fifteen minutes. I texted Jess to figure out how to deactivate it and she replied with a heart. Luckily, the clandestine spot was isolated. I heard ominous giggling in the distance — the death knell for what might have been a peaceful Friday night.

Jess must have already been high or drunk because she sang my name like we were old friends and not frenemies who barely tolerated each other. They all wore heels that made them tower over me. And they were all so thin. 

Libbbbyyyyyy! Here are the keys, darling.

She tossed the keys at me, and they whacked me in the face.

Sorry!

She laughed in a way that hardly sounded sorry at all.

Yeah.

Chloe, Lily, and Claire hung a few feet back from Jess. I sensed from the horrified looks on their faces that they hadn’t been expecting me.

That’s who is driving us? Chloe barely disguised her disgust.

Yes, slag.

Chloe’s over contoured face and her smudged black eyeliner cast an especially dour expression on her face. Chloe wiped her eyes, spreading the liner more. She heaved and snot flew out of her nose, landing on the ground. I pretended not to notice. 

Why?

If I’m caught driving drunk again, daddy won’t let me use the cottage.

Who cares about the fucking cottage? You’re showing up at Theo’s party with a random.

I’m standing right here, I grumbled.

She doesn’t mean to offend you, Lily apologized.

I need another hit, Chloe whined.

Get in the car and I’ll give you another hit, Jess barked. She was queen bee and didn’t appreciate Chlo questioning her decisions. Chloe sidled into the car, straightener-fried blond hair sticking out from the frosty night’s static air. 

I slipped into the driver’s seat. Right. Driving in England couldn’t be that different, right?

Give me the fairy dust! Chloe whined as soon as she sat down. Lily and Claire squished next to Chloe in the back, and Jess joined me in the passenger seat. She turned around to hand Chloe a small baggie of brown powder.

What is that? 

Want some? Chloe offered, sticking her finger in the bag with devilish excitement spread across her face.

No, Jess said, snatching the bag back from Chloe, She’s our driver... not our friend. And Libby, what the bloody hell are those?

She looked at my shoes.

Um... sneakers.

You’re wearing Adidas trainers?

I started the engine.

Where do I need to go?

I told you to wear heels, Jess huffed, Pull off that way toward Beecher Street. 

I followed Jess’s directions all the way to the mansion. You couldn’t hear music from outside. Stone walls keep sound well. The only sign that there was a party on the large, isolated estate, was the multitude of luxury cars parked outside. Holy. Shit. We’d all signed off-campus for the night and weren’t expected back until check-in on Saturday evening. We’d be here well into the morning. 

I parked close to the house, Jess criticizing my parking the entire way. It wasn’t so bad. And there wasn’t any traffic. Out here was lonely and far away from everything I knew. 

I texted Ben. He’s coming with the lads.

Tell him to leave fucking Jeremy inside, Chloe whined, slumping her head over onto Lily’s shoulder, I’m so sad, Lils...

Lily stroked her friend’s hair.

I know. He’s such a fucking prick. Don’t worry, luv. You’ll find someone else.

I’m going to fuck Theo, Chloe continued, That’ll teach him a lesson.

Jess scowled and snapped, Don’t be a slag, Chlo. You aren’t fucking anyone. Claire? You watch her tonight.

Oi! I’m supposed to get some tonight, Claire complained.

A tit fuck from Mo hardly counts as getting some. Watch her.

Fine, Claire huffed.

Ben and the rugby boys poured out of the house and surrounded the car. Ben opened Jess’s door and looked over at me.

Is that fucking Libby?

What the fuck does it look like? Jess snapped.

What the hell is she doing here?

Stop worrying about Libby and worry about getting your bloody girlfriend out of her car.

Right. Sorry.

They piled out of the car, and for a moment I hesitated. Could I really go in? Did I want to?

Hurry, Libby! Jess called.

That was it, then. I was going to my first illegal off-campus Rapetti Academy rager. We weren’t allowed to leave the building after checking in with our dorm head. Boarding school rules. But on the weekends, everyone who had social status at Rapetti snuck out to parties like this.

Rented manors, drugs, alcohol. Everything a scholarship student should stay away from. I should be asleep right now. If any Dean wanted to do a random check in, this could screw me over. 

This place was crazier than my wildest imagination. The front doors opened and a strong cloud of liquor and marijuana smoke wafted out. I could smell the sweat from the bottom of the stairs. The roman columns extended three stories up and the floors beneath my sneakers were white marble, carelessly slathered with mud and brown water from unwiped shoes. Two Year 13s skidded across the watery floor in their white socks and screeched with glee as they crashed into what was presumably some ancient Ming dynasty vase.

I don’t belong here. 

I was so going to regret this...

CHAPTER 4

THOSE THINGS WILL KILL YOU

We took our shoes off in the foyer of the big house. I didn’t see the point, but everyone else did it. Is this some rich people rule I haven’t heard of yet? The floor was still wet from shoes and wet from sweat. And wet from everything else. 

The wet teenager smell didn’t take away from the beauty of the house but added a strange contrast. 

I’ve never been in a house this big before.

Jess hung onto Ben’s arm as she whispered the latest gossip to him: Chloe and Jezza’s breakup.

Once inside, I thought the music would distract everyone from the fact that I was there. No such luck. Everyone looked. Theo gave me a once over.

What the hell is she doing here, Jess.

A girl needs a driver, you prick.

Thought you had Ben giving you rides.

Jess giggled and squeezed his arm, leaning on him as she said, "Shut up, Theo. I don’t do that."

Jess liked to talk up her sex life for the girls and play it down for the boys. Even a friendless loner can’t help hearing things when all the girls in her dorm scream everything at the top of their lungs in our paper thin hallways. Jess explained her entire strategy to an army of captivated minions in the bathroom one night. I sat in the back stall, realizing I’d forgotten a tampon in my room for thirty minutes before someone figured out I was in there. 

Chloe stumbled behind Jess, leaning on her shoulder.

I’m a bloody slag and I want to get fucked!

Jess rolled her eyes.

Ignore her.

Lily and Claire piled in and wrapped their arms around Theo.

Theoooo, they slurred, Do you have any pills.

Theo grinned and wrapped his arms around their hips.

I think I can sort you, ladies.

 The girls giggled and wandered off with Theo. Ben pulled his arm off Jess.

Can we go somewhere... and talk?

Sure, once I have a drink.

Jess walked over to the table in the center of the room and grabbed two shots of some clear liquid. Ben grabbed one for himself, but he was already visibly drunk.

Have one, Libby the loser, Jess said, You can still drive if you have only one. 

"Sorry I