Enjoy the first chapter :)
They say that high school is fun. They say it's the time of your life, that it's filled with experiences like your first crush on the hot lead cheerleader, or cheating on tests with your best friends, or weekend study sessions with your classmates and shitty fast food restaurants at midnight.
All I relate to is the shitty food part.
I dread walking to the cafeteria where they serve you fuck-knows-what on a plastic tray and call it a day. Seriously, yesterday I waited twenty-five minutes in line just to consume a bendable slice of "pizza" with an almost play-dough-like consistency.
You bet your ass that I didn't eat that shit.
At this shithole, I survive off of chocolate pop-tarts and hide as much of my face as possible that is still socially acceptable with a beanie and hope I don't get noticed.
Except, I've learned that my hopes are never answered in the ways I wish. Hope is saved for the popular kids- the ones with parents who adore them. The ones with friends who gossip about Jared Stein, the star linebacker who has a magic dick- or so I've heard.
I wonder why I don't have friends like that at this school.
On my way to the cafeteria, I'm intercepted and shoved into a locker full-force by none other than Brenden Matthews, the stupidly hot and stupidly popular student council president, quarterback, a.k.a the golden boy, a.k.a. the leader of the pathetic posse of guys who pick on me.
I wonder why.
I cringe as my spiral notebooks fly out of my hands, one page of my biology spiral ripping as it connects with the floor at a strange angle.
"What the fuck, Matthews?" I growl at him.
Oh, maybe that's why they pick on me. I can't keep my fucking mouth shut.
I have a feeling that Brenden, the golden-haired messiah of our school, would have walked away if I hadn't have said anything. However, he's surrounded by his friends- Brian, Kent, and Andre- and his stereotypically bitchy girlfriend Virginia is on the other end of the hall. He can't turn down the opportunity to showcase his werewolf dominance to impress her.
I'm gay as shit and I can still appreciate that Virginia is attractive. She's (unfortunately) intelligent, popular, and talented- she's bendy and can do twenty fucking flips in a row on the football field. Unfortunately, the Moon Goddess gives the worst people the best lives, and Virginia is living the dream.
Despite her outward appearance, Virginia's personality is as dry as an Arizona desert and as annoying as a Jeffree Star apology video. I honestly don't know how people stand her. But Brenden does. He's dating her, after all.
After my little outburst, Brenden's blue eyes dilate, revealing that his wolf tendencies are taking over. Basically, I'm fucked.
All I wanted was to eat my poptart...
"Did you just say something, fag?" Brenden teases, entering my personal space. His friends laugh at his "comeback," but I just internally groan. I'm getting really bored of him saying that shit all of the fucking time.
I'm gay, it's not something I'm ashamed of, and it shouldn't be an insult.
"Yeah," I respond, already regretting this sentence. "I said, 'what the fuck'? Shoving me into lockers and pushing books out of my hand isn't very creative, Matthews. Why don't you try some other way to get your dick wet?"
I grin at him, knowing just the words to get under his skin. As a werewolf, any dominant one will feel threatened when another isn't immediately submissive to them. Teasing him makes him so much hotter.
I know he's not my mate, and I should be meeting mine soon because I just turned 16 a few months ago, but he is probably the most attractive person I have ever met. He is so fucking muscular- probably hoping all of the bicep curls will help him deflect the insults that mommy and daddy throw his way. He has this blonde, almost golden hair that always has a stray piece in front of his eyes. He also possessed a sharp jawline and a broad nose leading to the hot scowl always pasted onto his perfect face.
Too bad he's an asshole.
I feel the punch before my brain registers what's happening. My back hits one of those bulky padlocks and I groan at the impact. That'll leave another bruise.
The posse howls with laughter, shoving each other around, patting Brenden on the back.
I poke around my face, finding nothing broken. No blood, either. I'll just have a swollen eye for a day or two until my increased healing kicks in.
Brenden shakes out his right hand, and it's almost hilarious to think that he could have injured it by punching me. Yeah, I have a hard fucking face, serves him right.
He tilts his head to the right, signaling to his friends.
"You guys go on without me. I'll meet you in a bit. I want to deal with the fag, first."
At this point, Virginia has already joined in on the fun. She looks at Brenden with a gleam in her eyes- pride, lust, I don't fucking know. I could never be proud of a man for hurting someone weaker than him.
Virginia grabs Brenden by the shoulders and proceeds to fuck his mouth with her tongue. It's disgusting, honestly. All I want to do is scream "keep it PG-13!" or "get a room!" or "my eyes!", but that will lead to me having two black eyes and I really don't need my perfect face being busted up even more just because I can't keep my fucking mouth shut.
So I say nothing.
The sounds of their wet kisses fill the hallway, echoing off of the linoleum floors and barren white walls that remind me of an insane asylum.
I would honestly opt to go there instead of staying here and listening to this.
Virginia finally pulls away, whispers something that I just fucking bet is supposed to be in a husky voice, then she walks away with the three pups at her heels.
I'm left in the hallway, alone with Brenden Matthews.
"Pick up your shit," he orders, crossing his arms and glaring at me. I scoff, but do as he says. I was going to pick it up anyways...
When I go to stand, he grips my shoulder and half-drags me down the hall. I can barely keep up with him, and my thoughts drift to the poptart that sits in my bag still, probably crumbled and broken into pieces as soon as my back hit the lockers.
Poptart: you will be missed.
I finally see the familiar door to the janitor's closet approaching- I know, isn't Brenden so original? Of course the room is unlocked, because why the fuck would the school lock the janitor's closet which is meant only for school employees?
I'm shoved into the pitch black room that smells strongly of cleaning supplies and something that reminds me of aged cheese.
I drop my bag and binders on the floor, and not two seconds after the sliver of light is lost to the darkness of the tiny room, Brenden grips the hoodie at my shoulders and uses it to shove me into the one wall not lined with shelves.
The air is knocked out of me for a second, and I lose even more air when his large hand grips my throat. He doesn't close off my airway completely, but he does hold my neck enough so that I know who has control right now.
"Do you have anything to say, Cooper?" he asks, finally saying my goddamned name. He only says it when we're alone, like if anyone knew he called me anything other than "fag" he would be shamed and replaced as the star quarterback. Typical jock.
"Fuck. You." I grit my teeth and growl the two words out with conviction.
"You asked for it," he says, and I can practically see the grin on his face even though the only light in this room is coming in from the crack underneath the doorway.
Brenden flips the lock and then his lips are on mine, his hands ripping my favorite beanie off of my head and gripping my untamable hair. I do have great hair, the floppy style that every boy-band member dreams of having. It curls ever-so-slightly at the edges and is long in the front and cropped shorter in the back.
Brenden always loves pulling my hair, most of the time to the point of pain.
I don't know why I let him do this. He's an asshole one moment, and then he wants to fuck me in the next. He has a girlfriend, we both have mates out there somewhere, yet we're both removing our clothes in a shitty janitor's closet, trying to touch as much of each other's skin as possible.
His lips are so rough on my body. He licks a trail down my neck, sucking and biting on it as he obnoxiously tries to create a hickey which he knows I'll have to fucking hide. There are no openly gay students at this school besides me, so it would cause all kinds of conversations about who the hidden gay kid is.
Actually, that sounds like a great fucking idea.
My thoughts are interrupted when I hear his zipper drop and the signature sound of ripping foil. I lower my pants as well, preparing myself for the intrusion that is Brenden's dick.
I'm roughly shoved against the freezing wall, and I shudder from the sudden change in temperature on my stomach. Brenden takes it as a sign that I'm eager and chuckles as he grips my neck in a possessive hold.
He gives me no warning as his massive cock is shoved right into my ass. I groan loudly once before remembering that I'm still in the FUCKING JANITOR'S OFFICE and I need to shut the fuck up. I bite on my fist to keep quiet.
"I know you fucking like that," he groans into my ear, the sound of skin slapping filling the room. He grants me no mercy as he pounds into me constantly, one hand on my hip and the other at my throat.
Controlling me.
"You fucking like it, too," I manage to grunt out in between pants.
He only picks up speed, ignoring my comment.
A minute or two later he is still using me like his favorite sex toy when he talks to me again.
"I'm only doing this because Virginia can't satisfy me."
"Well duh," I reply breathlessly. "That's because she has a fucking vagina."
His grip on my neck tightens to where I have to struggle to breath a little bit.
"I'm not gay," he growls at me, still fucking me in the ass. Was that supposed to be convincing?
"And I'm straight and hate the Kardashians," I snark with the little oxygen I have left. Brenden pulls out of me and spins me around. I can just make out the lustful glaze on his eyes.
"You don't know how to shut the fuck up, do you?" he adds, then he shoves me down on my knees. I'll definitely have bruises there.
"This is what you get for being a brat."
Then he shoves his cock down my throat. His grip on my hair is punishing, his dick hitting the back of my throat with every powerful thrust. I'm gagging only after a few seconds but he doesn't release me. He never releases me.
I like shit rough, but sometimes I wonder if this is what it's supposed to be like. Most of the time he doesn't even let me cum.
Like now. It only takes him a few more thrusts before he's whining like a simp, saying "right there, Cooper. Yes, fuck!" before his salty cum spills down my throat. It tastes like a combination of day-old spoiled milk and soggy pretzel water. He's still shuddering as he grips my jaw in his massive football-wielding hand and gives me an order.
"Swallow."
I do, only because I want this shit to be over with.
He lets go of me, and with all of my weight on my now-bruised fucking knees, I lose my balance and fall butt-naked onto the floor.
Brenden laughs.
The sound of our clothes rustling as we put them on fills the would-be awkward silence. Just as I'm about to walk past him, he places a hand on my chest.
"Don't say a word about this to anyone," he warns.
"I haven't before," I answer, grab my things, and head towards my next class.
-----
I know the routine by now. We both can't walk into the cafeteria at the same time- people would notice. I get to keep up the "anti-social gay kid" cover while Brenden gets to be the jock-bully who just taught said "anti-social gay kid" a lesson for disrespecting him.
We both also have to wear a shit-ton of cologne to cover up our combined scents. Brendan always opts for this straight-boy shitty cologne while I choose something more natural.
I'm just annoyed that he had to punch me in the fucking face to get me alone. Most of the time it's a shove, or he just kicks me, or he'll be in a good mood and just spit ugly words at me to impress his friends. He'll come up with an excuse to "beat me up" or "tease me" in private, and every time leads to us fucking in the janitor's closet, or the faculty bathroom where no teacher ever enters, or backstage in the green room of the theater while Mr. Chainey the acting teacher is always gone to inappropriately mentally undress his underage female students in the hallways.
I sometimes fear that this is the best things are going to get. After hearing that I'm unlovable my entire life, that no one will want a pathetic, stupid piece of shit like myself, I sometimes fear that this non-relationship I have with Brenden is the only intimacy I will ever experience and I need to latch onto it no matter how wrong it feels sometimes.
It's always consensual, and I know he's a dick, but he's not a rapist. He would stop if I told him to. I just fear being alone. If this is the best I can get? I'll take all of the attention- I'll bask in it.
I try to push away all of the negative shit my mom has drilled into my head, that my dad has sat and listened to my mom rant about. I know I'm lovable. I know I'm not pathetic or stupid. I know that in my head.
It just takes my heart a little time to catch up, and then I'm a fucking hot piece of ass with a glowing personality and a sex appeal up there with Jason Derulo and Liam Hemsworth.
I open the door to my history professor's room, knowing he always eats lunch in there alone. He says it's too loud in the cafeteria and he hates all of the other teachers and doesn't want to pretend to listen to them talk about their shitty lives.
I can relate to that.
I slide into the front seat where I carved my initials into the bottom right corner of the desk and pull out my broken poptart.
"You really should eat something more than a shitty pastry," my history teacher says while chewing on his ham sandwich.
"You really should suck a dick, Larry," I respond, shoving the largest frosted piece I can find in the pile of rubble that is my poptart into my mouth.
"It's Mr. Patel to you," he attempts to scold me in that stupid fucking teacher voice of his. He hates when I call him by his first name, which is exactly why I do it.
"That's the only problem you had with that sentence?" I chuckle, munching on my food. I love poptarts.
"You're a lost cause when it comes to your filthy mouth. At least show your elders some respect."
"Yep, you are an elder. Should you really be getting gray hair in your thirties, Larry?"
And lunch proceeds like that- I say something obnoxious and insanely hilarious while Larry pretends to be immune to my humor and general charm. He'll groan something about teaching me a lesson one of these days, and I call him on his bullshit and insult him again.
It's a relationship every student should long to have with their teacher.
The bell rings and I stand, only to throw away my empty shiny wrapper in the trash can right next to Larry's desk. He had chosen to ignore my swollen eye, but up close he seems to change his mind on the matter.
"Who did that to your eye?" he questions me, his voice lowering slightly with his anger.
"You wouldn't believe it, but this morning on my way to school, a yippy chihuahua got loose from its owner's leash. It chased me for a mile before I could finally lose it, and right at the last second I ran right into a traffic pole. It hurt like a bitch." I tell this elaborate story, which Larry obviously believes, and then sit back down in my seat as I prepare for the "pop" quiz Larry generously mentioned we would be having on the location of different European countries.
He looks like he wants to say something to me, but a few students walk into the classroom and head for the back row. Since we're all werewolves at this school, they'll easily be able to hear every word we say. Larry looks at my bruised eye again, shakes his head, but thankfully drops it.
He hands out the pop quiz right after the bell rings, and I internally groan when I see it's not on the countries in Europe, but on countries in Africa.
Fucking Larry.
-----
I walk home, as usual, and head straight for the kitchen once I'm inside. I search the fridge for food that isn't there, then settle for an apple sitting on the countertop. I take a bite into it before I realize that not only are my parents sitting on the couch, but so is my older sister. Guess she's in town.
Fuck.
~
And that's the first chapter of The Mark of a Beta! I hope you guys liked it :) I'm going to try and update every weekend, so we'll see if I can keep up with that schedule.
I also want to get to know you guys more, so I'll add a question for you guys at the end of each chapter that I'll also answer myself :)
We'll start off easy:
Q: Where are you guys from?
A: I'm from the U.S. - specifically Florida!
Xx alexia