The Enemy

The shrill sound of my alarm clock wasn’t what jolted me awake. It was the yelling. My stepfather’s voice cutting through the walls.

I stared up at the ceiling, straining to hear my mom’s voice fighting back, but it never came. It never will..

“If this was toast, the whole of America would be fucking dead!” His voice boomed again.

I sighed, sitting up in bed. Pain shot from my hips and... lower down, a raw reminder of last night. It wasn't a dream. It happened.

*“Changing the list?” The phone camera clicked. “You little devil.”*

“Listen, it’s not what you think,” I had said, heart pounding.

“Oh, I know *exactly* what I think.” His voice dripped with amusement.

Shit.

“But I’ll keep my mouth shut," he whispered, stepping closer, "if you fuck me."

I shook my head, the memories flooding back with nauseating clarity. The worst part was I didn’t even know who he was. Yet, I had agreed.

“Myles?” My mom’s voice, soft and hesitant, floated through the door. “You’re late for school, you know.”

Before I could answer, his voice cut in. “Treating that boy like a fucking baby again? You never listen, do you, woman?”

I bit my tongue to stop the retort burning in my chest and instead called out, “I’ll be out in a minute.”

In the bathroom, I stared blankly at the wall, my mind running a million thoughts per second. What the hell was I thinking last night? No, the real question—who was that guy? He couldn’t have been a student with that massive tattoo and those scars on his back. And no way he was a teacher, not with the way he talked.

*"Christ, you’re so tight. Urgh."*

The red, scaly tattoo on his back as he walked out of the hotel door flashed in my mind. My stomach twisted.

He had to be a visitor—someone passing through. I’d probably never see him again. That thought made me feel a little better. By the time I left my room, I was calm enough to kiss my mom on the cheek.

“What about breakfast?” she asked, her eyes wide, the bruises around them barely hidden under her makeup. “I made pancakes. Your favorite.”

“I’m good,” I muttered, watching her face fall. Guilt gnawed at me, so I kissed her forehead. “I’ll eat when I get back.”

She nodded, but before the moment could settle, his gruff voice filled the kitchen again, ruining everything. “Isn’t it nice to have the luxury of choosing when to eat? Must be, when you don’t have to earn the damn food.”

It wasn’t his money. My fists clenched, the words ready to explode out of me, but my mom squeezed my palm. "Myles, just go to school, okay?"

I sighed, grabbed my bag, and turned to the door. Standing up to him was pointless. And she… she’d never leave.

“Hey!” he called after me as I reached the door. “Why do you walk funny?”

“Tripped down the stairs,” I muttered, slamming the door behind me. Dammit. If he noticed, others would too.

I couldn’t miss school, though. I needed to know if Coach had discovered the missing list. I really shouldn’t have chewed it up like some desperate idiot.

What the hell was I thinking?

Was going to school the right move? I sighed. Anywhere was better than home.

I arrived twenty minutes late, and the moment I saw the students gathered in hushed circles, I felt my stomach drop. The atmosphere was thick, electric with tension. Everyone was staring toward Coach Daniel’s office.

I was so fucked.

I pulled my hoodie up, ready to slip out unnoticed, but two hands grabbed my arm.

“Son of a gun, where did you go last night?” Leo demanded. “Jade went to grab her bag, and poof, you vanished!”

Before I could respond, Jade yanked my hoodie down, her face red with frustration. “I’m too young for a heart attack, you absolute idiot!” She started pounding her tiny fists against my shoulder. “Crazy, fine-ass hunky bitch!”

“Ouch,” I muttered, rubbing my shoulder. I glanced toward the crowd of whispering students. They were still staring at Coach’s office, eyes wide with anticipation. Whatever had happened, it wasn’t just about a missing list.

“Uh…” Jade cleared her throat, her voice hushed. “Tristan Medici’s in Coach’s office. The whole school’s losing its mind.”

Of course, he was. My body tensed, anger simmering just below the surface. The golden boy had arrived. Big fucking deal.

“You know,” Leo said casually, “you could join the figure skating club. It’s almost the same as hockey, just with more sequins.”

Jade shot him a glare. “Leo, you’re so dumb.” She turned to me, eyes wide. “Myles is stiffer than a tree trunk.”

“He could learn.”

“You can’t teach an old chicken new tricks.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Chicken?”

She shrugged, grinning. “Would you rather I call you a dog?”

Before I could answer, loud cheers erupted near the entrance. All heads turned, including mine, toward the boy walking beside Coach Daniel. Tristan Medici. The school's newest obsession.

“Oh my God,” Jade breathed.

“Guess this is the part where I tell myself I’m not bi,” Leo chuckled.

I said nothing. My eyes, like everyone else’s, were locked on him—Tristan, with his perfect hair and stupid grin. He looked like he belonged on a magazine cover, not a hockey team. Everything about him screamed privilege.

“He’s so hot,” someone nearby whispered.

“I wanna have his babies,” another girl giggled.

Yeah, great. He was perfect. Whatever.

He looked like someone had carved him using God as his model. That raven-dark hair, the light gray eyes that reveal nothing except the stupid sly grin.

And that body hidden beneath the joggers and cardigan.

He smiled at whatever Coach Daniel was saying, and everyone swooned. I grimaced. What the hell was wrong with all of them? He wasn’t even all that.

“Oh my God, look at that smile,” Jade sighed.

“I’d let him bang me,” Leo said, dead serious.

Jade and I turned to him. “What?! Look at him!” Leo defended himself, motioning toward Tristan. “You can’t blame me.”

I rolled my eyes. My friends were useless. But why did it feel like Tristan was searching for someone in the crowd? His eyes swept over the students, scanning.

Looking for his next girlfriend, no doubt. Natalie, probably. Sorority queen and prom princess. George would be dumped in a week. Maybe something good would come out of all this, after all.

Another boy, a redhead, grabs Tristan's hand and pulls him toward the opposite direction while Tristan laughs. Of course, if I had no worries in the world, and everyone crushed on me, I'd laugh that hard, too.

Fucking rich brat.

"Speaking of which, Myles," Leo took his gaze off the leaving Tristan, "where did you go yesterday?"

I had thought of a lie, 'I walked home.' I was ready to spit it out from my throat when Coach Daniel's voice hit me out of the blue.

"Astor." He glared as he walked past me. "Get your ass to my office right this moment!"

I swallowed.