Reject: A Dark High School Romance (Academy of Misfits Book 2)
Reject
Academy of Misfits – book two
Copyright ©: Kelly Stock writing as Bea Paige
First Published: 28th October 2019
Publisher: Kelly Stock
Cover by: Everly Yours Cover Designs
Kelly Stock writing as Bea Paige to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in retrieval system, copied in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise transmitted without written permission from the publisher. You must not circulate this book in any format.
This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Contents
Blurb
Bea Paige’s Books
Academy of Misfits Playlist
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Author’s Note
Blurb
What’s the saying: keep your friends close and your enemies closer?
Guess I’m about to find out just how difficult that really is. I might have my best friend back but his safety and that of my chosen family depends on me doing something I vowed never to do.
Join Camden’s crew.
Thing is, you don’t turn down the leader of Hackney’s Hackers and then get a second chance without forfeiting something in return. The relationships I was just starting to build, is that too high of a price?
Sonny with his joking nature and dimples.
Ford with his mysterious dominance and protective instinct.
Eastern with his unyielding loyalty and feeling of home.
This term at Oceanside Academy, my sanity will be pushed to the limit as I walk the fine line between friend and foe. All I know is this better be worth it because I’m about to learn something important about myself. I was happy being a delinquent, but a reject…? Not so much.
**Reject is book two of this new gritty, contemporary reverse harem academy trilogy for 17+ readers and deals with adult themes and some subjects you may find upsetting. Contains foul language and sexual scenes**
Bea Paige’s Books
Academy of Misfits (academy reverse harem romance)
#1 Delinquent https://books2read.com/AcademyMisfits1
#2 Reject https://books2read.com/AcademyMisfits2
#3 Family https://books2read.com/AcademyMisfits3
Finding Their Muse (dark contemporary romance / reverse harem)
#1 Steps https://books2read.com/Steps
#2 Strokes https://books2read.com/Strokes
#3 Strings https://books2read.com/StringsFTM
#4 Symphony https://books2read.com/FTM4
The Brothers Freed Series (contemporary romance / reverse harem)
#1 Avalanche of Desire https://books2read.com/AvalancheOfDesire
#2 Storm of Seduction https://books2read.com/StormSeduction
#3 Dawn of Love https://books2read.com/DawnOfLove
#4 Brothers Freed Boxset https://books2read.com/BrothersFreed
The Sisters of Hex series (paranormal romance / reverse harem)
Prequel to The Sisters of Hex series:
Five Gold Rings: https://books2read.com/FiveGoldRings
Sisters of Hex: Accacia
#1 Accacia’s Curse https://books2read.com/AccaciasCurse
#2 Accacia’s Blood https://books2read.com/AccaciasBlood
#3 Accacia’s Bite https://books2read.com/AccaciasBite
Sisters of Hex: Fern
#1 Fern’s Decision https://books2read.com/FernsDecision
#2 Fern’s Wings https://books2read.com/FernsWings
#3 Fern’s Flight https://books2read.com/FernsFlight
The Infernal Descent trilogy (co-written with Skye MacKinnon)
#1 Hell’s Calling https://books2read.com/HellsCalling
#2 Hell’s Weeping https://books2read.com/HellsWeeping
#3 Hell’s Burning https://books2read.com/HellsBurning
Standalones
Cabin of Axes https://books2read.com/CabinOfAxes
Links to Bea Paige’s social media:
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/groups/BeaPaige/
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/beapaigeauthor/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/BeaPaigeAuthor
Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.co.uk/beapaigeauthor
Bookbub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/bea-paige
Web: https://www.beapaige.co.uk
Academy of Misfits Playlist
It is no secret that I listen to music whilst I write. Some authors like to write in utter silence, I’m not one of them. Music is my muse. I have been known to write, listen to music and sing all at the same time! Oftentimes music will inspire an idea and it’s no different for this series. Delinquent (book one of Academy of Misfits) was inspired by Billie Eilish’s Bad Guy. This playlist has grown somewhat since Delinquent to include songs for Reject!
Below are my favourite songs from the playlist that were perfect for Reject..
Listen to the full playlist on Spotify HERE
“Slow up” by Jacob Banks
“Let Me Down” by Jorja Smith and Stormzy
“Two Punks in Love” by bulow
“Sex on Fire” cover by Blame Jones
“Normal” by Sasha Sloan
“Both” by Headie One
“I hate u, I love you” Gnash featuring Olivia O’Brien
For the ones who spent their lives trying to fit in.
You were never a reject. Those people just weren’t the right fit for you.
Find your family, Bea xxx
“Some people are nobody's enemies but their own.”
~ Charles Dickens, Oliver Twist.
Prologue
My mum once told me that the bravest sailors weren’t the ones who sailed through the storm, but the ones who remained in port whilst it raged out at sea. I never really understood what she meant by that, until now.
For seventeen years I succeeded in standing back and watching that storm wreak havoc, never once venturing into the expanse of the ocean like a large proportion of kids on my estate had done. Unlike me, they were drawn into the glamour and the notoriety of joining a gang. Some did it for the promise of a family unit that they didn’t have at home. Some did it because they were too weak or too vulnerable to say no, w
hile others did it because they were bored. And some, like Eastern, joined out of sheer desperation.
I chose to stay away.
It’s true, I might’ve been the delinquent kid that everyone saw when they looked at me. I might’ve gotten into trouble with the law, but I refused to set sail into a storm that wasn’t of my own making. I refused to join a gang. The way I saw it, whatever trouble I got into was on my terms and not for some self-proclaimed gang leader with a skewed view of the world and their own set of rules. I never wanted to be beholden to anyone but myself, and above all else, I always wanted more out of life than the hand I’ve been dealt.
Maybe it was my mother’s fault for filling my head with far-fetched stories, but I wanted what was on the other side of the storm. I wanted what lay far, far beyond the horizon. Deep down I’d craved the life my mum used to tell me about in her stories. It gave me something to focus on, to dream about, even if it wasn’t real. Ironic then, that I’m now a part of the life I worked so hard to avoid, trying to protect the people I love from falling victim to it.
And all because my love for a makeshift family meant I couldn’t stand back and watch the storm anymore. I must set sail right into the heart of it because I love Eastern, Tracy and Braydon enough to do something about their situation. They might not be my blood, but they are my family and I won’t abandon them in a time of need.
Pity the same couldn’t be said for my own parents.
In my lowest moments over the years, I’ve daydreamed about my dad returning to rescue me. Mum had always claimed he never knew of my existence, that he was just a stranger, a one-night stand. But she’d spun a tale about that too. Over the years, when she didn’t think I was awake, I’d hear her crying for the man who’d left her when she was eight months pregnant. I’d overheard her telling a friend once how he’d promised to return, to take care of us both. He never did and my mum refused to speak of him to me. That was one story she’d refused to tell no matter how often I’d begged her to. I think, in part, her addiction began in earnest with him, though I suspect it also had a lot to do with her running from her terrible upbringing. Maybe my father was the straw that broke the camel’s back. Maybe she would’ve become an addict regardless. There’s no way of knowing.
But her refusal to talk about him led to an unhealthy obsession of my own. I’ve spent many lonely nights awake and wondering who my dad is. The absence of my dad’s name on my birth certificate led to many dead ends over the years, leaving me frustrated and angry. Not even Tracy knows the identity of this mysterious man who’d fathered me. Maybe he was the drug dealer who supplied my mum with heroin and kept her addiction alive even when pregnant with me. Maybe he was just a regular guy she’d picked up for a one-night stand, who entertained the idea of being in our lives then ran when he realised my mum was nothing more than a junkie. Maybe he really was a Chinese emperor.
I’ve often imagined my dad returning to find me. In my fantasies he’s a handsome, though faceless man driving into my estate in a flashy sports car, promising me the life I’d always dreamed of and apologising for abandoning us both. He would grovel and beg my forgiveness and I would make it hard for him in the beginning, but eventually I would forgive him. In every fantasy I’ve ever had, I’d climb into his car and we’d drive off into the sunset to a new life where gangs weren’t terrorising the neighbourhood and my only chance of survival was to join them or commit a crime ending up in prison so I wouldn’t have to.
But life just doesn’t work like that.
Not for me.
Not for the girl who’s always carried the storm inside her.
You see, my mum had failed to understand one important fact: you can’t observe the storm from a safe distance when the storm is already a part of you. We all have our roles to fill. I’d just been avoiding mine for a lot longer.
1
“Asia, are you listening to me?” Tracy asks, her forehead creasing in a frown.
“Sure, I am,” I say, placing my fork and knife back down on my plate. This is our last meal together before Eastern and I must return to Oceanside. She’d made my favourite: macaroni cheese. Warm, delicious and filling. It reminds me of a gentle hug and stability. It reminds me of home.
“You’ve been quiet all day. Are you thinking about your mum?” she asks gently.
If only she knew. I’m not thinking about my mum. I’m not even thinking about the fact that last week I turned seventeen. I’m thinking about the fact that in a few minutes I’m jumping on a train with Eastern and heading back to Oceanside. I know what I’ve got to go back to do and why, but that doesn’t make it any easier.
“Yeah,” I lie.
She frowns, her eyes welling with tears. “She wouldn’t want you to be sad, Asia.”
It’s a statement I’ve heard Tracy say several times over the years and as much as I love her, it pisses me off. “Really? She never seemed to care much about anything other than her next fix when she was alive. What makes you think she’d give a shit about how I feel now she’s dead?”
“She loved you… she loved your brothers,” Tracy whispers, her hand reaching for mine. Her eyes sad, so fucking sad. I can’t look into the face of it. I can’t deal with pity even if it is from someone I adore.
“No, she loved heroin. She didn’t love us.” I stand abruptly just as Eastern walks into the kitchen.
“Lissy…”
“How are my favourite ladies?” he asks, looking between us both with a frown. “Everything okay?”
I sigh. “Everything’s fine.” And it is. I’ve long since gotten over my mum’s abandonment. She overdosed. I found her cold, dead body. I’m over it.
Except, of course, I’m not.
I remember that day so clearly. It’s etched into my soul and carved into my heart. A bloody tattoo that beats every time my heart does. A permanent reminder of what I’ve lost, of what I never really had in the first place. Mum had been lying glassy eyed on our threadbare sofa clutching hold of the teddy bear she’d bought me for my birthday, a needle still imbedded in her arm. The second I’d found her I knew she was dead. The room had been cold, so cold in fact that ice crept up the windowpane on the inside. It’s funny how I remember that part so clearly, the tiny ice crystals making a pretty pattern on the glass. I think I thought them beautiful, as though Jack Frost had found his way into our home and dusted the windows with his touch. I’d whispered her name, and whilst warm air had huffed out of my mouth, nothing had left hers. Gone. Just like that. She was thirty-four.
“I shouldn’t have brought it up.” Tracy stands, pulling me into her arms and enveloping me in her warmth.
“The cold, I can still feel it now,” I mutter, somehow caught between that moment and this.
“Oh, love.” Tracy rubs my back and I cling onto her, fully aware that this has suddenly become an emotionally intense moment with Eastern looking on. It’s rare for him to see me quite so vulnerable. But things have changed, and somehow I’m not so afraid of Eastern seeing this side of me.
“I’m always here to talk,” Tracy says.
I nod my head, muttering my thanks. In some ways she’s the only mother I’ve ever known. Some days I wish she really was my own flesh and blood, but then that would make Eastern my brother and I couldn’t have that. I love him in a way you shouldn’t love a brother.
“You smell good,” I say after a while. A random statement, but the truth, nonetheless.
“Not like bleach you mean?” She laughs, drawing a smile from me.
“No, not like bleach,” I agree with a laugh of my own.
I clutch her tighter, breathing her in, not ready to let go just yet. Not ready to leave the comfort of this kitchen that is warm and welcoming and so much like home. Since moving to Eastbourne, Tracy no longer smells of all the cleaning products she’d had to use in her poorly paid cash-in-hand job. Now she smells of fresh soap and lemons. That alone makes me happy. I’m thankful at least that Chief Inspector Crown made good on his side of the de
al and got Tracy a new house and enough financial support to take care of Braydon who’s currently taking a nap in the front room in his brand new, made-to-measure wheelchair. They’re happy here and that’s all that matters.
“Well, whatever perfume you’re wearing, I’d sure like to bottle it,” I mutter.
“Stop, you’ll make this old woman blush.”
“You’re hardly old, mum,” Eastern says. “You’re only forty-three.”
“Soon I’ll be forty-four and then I’ve got no hope.” She laughs, shrugging off her low self-confidence with a wave of her hand. She totally deserves to find someone to love her. Maybe while living here, she will. Tracy is still a good-looking woman with dark hair and eyes like Eastern but with a heart-shaped face and cupid’s bow mouth. She looks her age, has fine wrinkles and slightly greying hair, but she’s still attractive. Very much so.
“We’ve really got to get going soon,” I say, pulling free from her arms. “I’m sorry I couldn’t come earlier than today, but I needed to make sure Sebastian and George settled okay in their new home in Hull.”