Forbidden to Love My Stepbrother

Chapter 8

Scott doesn’t move, but the whole school is staring, listening and murmuring, some already holding their phones up to record. Scott turns, and his sunken eyes lock on me. His shoulders jerk like he’s just been doused in cold water. “Are you insane, Zilinski!” he shouts, swinging a hand for my face. I catch it and shove it aside.

“That’s what I should be asking you,” I snarl, pointing to the bulletin board. “Why did you think you could do that to me, you piece of s**t? You think I’m that easy?”

I see the moment Scott snaps. He raises his hand again and slams it across my face, hard enough to drop me to the ground.

“You b***h,” he yells, reaching down for me. I kick his shin and scramble backwards. Sharon and Regina dart out of his way as he lunges forward, dragging me up by my hair. I hear his friends shouting for him not to touch me, but Scott’s bloodshot eyes blaze red with fury. He doesn’t hear them.

I don’t waste time fighting his grip, I grab his hair too, yank his head back, and drive my fist into his face. Doesn't matter that his hands are strong and he towers over me. My punch lands. His comes faster, knocking me down again. I shield my face this time, but dirt and sand coated my tongue from the impact.

My clothes are covered with dirt, but I don’t care. I don’t see anything else. All I know is I won’t be satisfied until I’ve hurt him badly. Then, Miles storms in and shouts, “What the f**k is going on here!”

Scott is still charging at me as I struggle to stand, tasting blood in my mouth. Miles grabs him, tackles him to the ground. “Are you soft in the head?” he roars. “That’s Grey’s little sister.” He locks Scott down in a chokehold.

“She started it!” Scott gasps, thrashing against Miles, desperate to break free.

“Stop it, man,” Miles grunts, trying to hold him down. I stalk toward them with a brick I grabbed from behind a bush. Miles spots me, his eyes flick to the chunk of concrete in my hand.

“Freya, don’t, ”

He’s too late. I swing the brick down on Scott’s skull. The bastard drops instantly, out cold. My fingers throb from the impact and I’m breathing hard. Miles strains beneath Scott’s full weight.

“Thanks for the assist,” I tell him, swiping my hand across my nose. It comes up bloody. Then I walk off while Miles gapes after me.

Sharon and Regina stand like statues as I stride past them into the school building, but I don’t stop to listen, I don’t care what they think or say. Once I’m free of the watching crowd, I wince. My head throbs, my arm screams, and my elbow stings with the scrape of a fresh bruise, covered with blood and dirt.

“Hey,” someone calls, and I spin on reflex. It’s a blonde girl from yesterday. She’s standing at the corner, books clutched tight to her chest, her face scrunched with worry. I helped her get an apology from another i***t. That's how I got to speak with her and find out she is the first real friend I ever made long ago.

“Are you okay?”

Her name is Sophie. I walk over and shrug. “You should see the other guy.” Her eyes flick over my face with something unusual, not judgment but concern.

“Did you have to fight him?” she asks, it is almost reproachful. But I don’t take offense.

“Did you see what he did to my picture?” I draw in a breath, the adrenaline fading from my veins. “Besides, this isn’t my first time.”

Sophie jerks her head at the sound of students flooding into the hallway. The party’s over, their chatter resumes and echoing off the walls, talking about me.

“It’s too bad Miles stopped the fight.”

“I know, right? Freya deserves it.”

“I wish he’d beaten her more.”

Their gossip doesn’t faze me. If I cared about what they said, I wouldn’t survive a day here, let alone open my mouth. But Sophie clearly wants to avoid them. “Let’s go in here,” she whispers, gesturing toward a door at the end of the hall.

I glance over my shoulder just in time to catch Regina and Sharon strutting past. They haven’t spotted me yet, but I know exactly what’s running through their minds. Best not to deal with them. I follow Sophie into the room.

It’s dark inside, stale air pressing in until she opens a window. Light and fresh air spill in, chasing dust across the space. It looks like an office.

“Are you sure we should be here?” I ask. The last thing I need is to land on a lecturer’s blacklist right after throwing hands on campus. News of that will reach the chancellor soon enough, and since he’s Johanna’s good “friend,” I’ll be hearing about it tonight.

“It’s okay,” Sophie says. “I’m Professor Martin’s student coordinator. He’s on vacation.”

“Are you close with him?” From what I know of Martin, the guy is a jerk, at least to me. He flunked me last semester until Johanna did the usual and pulled strings with the chancellor and forced a pass. Since then, he’s barely looked at me, which is fine. When he isn’t cold, he’s creepy.

“Not exactly. He’s a friend of my dad.” Sophie moves behind the professor’s desk and pulls out a first aid kit. “Can you sit here, please?”

She’s so damn polite it makes me feel rough around the edges, like I’ve never learned manners. “Thanks.” I drop on the chair she points to. “You don’t have to do that. I’ll be going home soon, and the nurse will deal with it.”

“That’s nice,” she says, circling the desk, “but I thought you wouldn’t want to go home looking like that.” A soft smile warms her lips, strangely gentle. I don’t think I’ve ever had someone look at me like that. It makes me awkward, I don't know where to put my eyes so I look away.

I stay quiet while she starts cleaning my cuts. Her touch is gentle but the antiseptic sting still makes me flinch. “You were lucky Miles came when he did,” she says, dabbing the cut above my brow.

“Miles?” I wince again. “Do you know him? You’re using his first name.”

Sophie’s hands still, then she continues silently.

“What? Are you not supposed to talk about it?” I shouldn’t press, but curiosity bites. Miles isn’t a student, though his younger sister is. He’s an alumni, and heaven knows why he showed up today of all days. I should probably catch him before he goes running to Grey about what happened.

“No, I just…know him. We grew up together.” She packs the supplies back into the box and turns away, clearly shutting down further questions. Sophie, kind as she is, doesn’t belong in the same circle Miles and I do. If they grew up together, then her parents must have worked for his family. I let it drop.

“Thanks.” My hand brushes the bandage she’s pressed over my cut.

“Do you really not remember me?” she asks, like she is hoping too hard. Is it really that important to her?

“I remember,” I say, rising to my feet with a smile. “Playing in the park with my very first friend. I can’t recall your face, but I remember all our favorite spots.”

A small smile tugs at her lips before breaking into a full grin. “I’m so glad you remember.”

“But you’ve been at this school for three years now,” I say. We don’t study the same course, but we’ve shared a class or two, and I’ve seen her around. “Why didn’t you ever talk to me?”

Sophie looks away, her grin softening. “I didn’t think you’d…like me very much.”

That’s not the answer I expected. It should’ve been the opposite. “Are you sure it’s not because you thought I was scary?” I tease.

“No, definitely not. You were…loud. Everyone knew about you. I just thought… ” She gestures at herself, then at me, like the difference between is obvious.

I chuckle. “It’s just clothes, Sophie. Underneath it, I’m still the same person.”

She nods quickly. “I know. I’m biased.”

“Well, I can’t blame you. I’ve got the same bias.” Thinking about it now, it’s stupid, making friends only with people who look like me, dress like me. It left me with shallow friendships, easily broken. Like Sharon and Regina. It’s time for something real.

“Why don’t we forget appearances and just be like we were when we were kids?” I hold out my hand.

“I don’t want to dress like a boy,” Sophie says. It takes me a beat to realize she’s joking, and I burst out laughing.

“Well, I think the secret’s already out,” I say, still chuckling. “We can both be girls this time.”

She nods, steps in, and instead of taking my hand, pulls me into a hug. My eyes widen; I stand rigid. Sophie pulls back when she sees my face and pales. “Oh no, I’m sorry. You wanted a handshake, and I went for a hug. God, I’m a mess.”

I shake my head, throat too tight to speak, and pull her back against me. “No, it’s okay. I just haven’t been hugged in so long I forgot how to react.” And I mean it. My chest feels tight, and I suck in a breath to calm down. “Thank you, Sophie.”

I didn’t know hugs could feel this good. The only thing better would be getting one from Grey.

Later, I say goodbye to Sophie and start toward the car, then stop short when I see Miles standing with my bodyguard, kicking up stones and dust. I let out a breath, I already know what his wimpy ass is about to say. I start walking again. He hears me and spins around.

“Freya f*****g Zilinski,” he spits, stepping forward with a finger jabbed at me. I grab that finger and bend it back hard.

“Ow, ow,” he squeals, yanking it away. “What the hell is wrong with you?” he glares, cradling his hand.

“Leave Grey out of this,” I say fast. Nothing else matters. Grey cannot find out about this. He gets hot-headed, sometimes more than me, and I won’t be the one to ruin his plans.

“Good luck with that,” Miles scoffs.

I turn on him. Even though he hates me to the core, he’s also scared of me after how I treated him when our mothers got close and he was introduced to us. The intention was for Miles to befriend us, but he stuck to Grey like glue and became a thorn in my side. So yeah, I bullied him. Tried to make him go back where he came from. I’m not proud of it. Okay, maybe I am. He’s a wimpy ass who can’t take a little ribbing.

He’s grown taller and more muscled now. His curly hair still gives him a slightly prissy, prince vibe, but the sharp jawline and his broader frame have softened that impression.