A Girl Called Malice

It’s not easy being the Queen Bee. Alice Taylor should know.

You know that girl. The one that the whole school’s social life seems to revolve around. Alice used to be that girl until she decided to quit sixth form college. Suddenly her ‘friends’ aren’t so interested in following her around and her attention-grabbing behaviour is about to get her kicked out of home. With nowhere to go and no one to turn to, her world starts spiralling seriously out of control.

Only new friend Zac Newton seems to believe in her. Lifeguard and poolside hottie, Zac is quite literally her lifesaver. But then, he’s never met ‘Malice’, her mean-girl alter ego, and Alice wants to keep it that way. She knows this is her last chance for a fresh start until her past catches up with her at the worst possible moment.

As everything Alice has worked towards comes crashing down around her, she realises that the hardest thing of all is being yourself…

A GIRL CALLED MALICE

Aurelia B. Rowl

www.CarinaUK.com

Also available by Aurelia B. Rowl:

Popping the cherry

AURELIA B. ROWL

lives on the edge of the Peak District in the UK with her very understanding husband, their two fantastic children, and their mad rescue mutt who doesn’t mind being used as a sounding post and source of inspiration. She regularly wows them all with her curious, hastily thrown together meals when she gets too caught up with her latest writing project…or five!…and she has developed the fine art of ignoring the housework.

Aurelia writes Young Adult/New Adult crossover fiction and contemporary romance. To find out more about Aurelia, or check out which project she’s working on right now, you can visit her website: www.aureliabrowl.com

This is the book that didn’t want to be written but with a lead character like Alice, I should have expected nothing less. At times Alice had me wanting to pull my hair out, refusing to let me inside her head, but she finally learned to trust me and allowed me write her story.

As ever, humongous thanks must go to my husband for keeping everything going on the home front, ferrying the kids to school and everywhere else and for holding the fort, especially in the run up to deadline when I locked myself away to get the words on the page. I guess I should also thank my children for letting me get on without too many distractions but it’ll be a few years yet until they’re old enough to read this book.

Massive thanks go to my fabulous editor, Anna Baggaley, for your patience and support while I struggled to get Alice’s story on paper. Your feedback and guidance has been invaluable and your praise and encouragement has bolstered my confidence and helped me to produce a story that I am very proud to have written. But yeah—phew —I’m glad it’s all done now…until the next book in the series, of course.

Thanks also to my good friends Jo and Sara, for listening to me complain when things weren’t going as well as I’d hoped and for coming up with various ideas (i.e. bribes like advent calendars and Thornton’s chocolate) to keep me motivated.

Speaking of friends, my ABCs have been there for me at every stage and I appreciate you all immensely. A special mention must go to Debbie Wentlein, of I Heart YA Books—alpha reader extraordinaire—so please stop by her blog and Facebook page and tell her I sent you. Unknown to Debbie, I changed a character’s name during the latter stage of edits and I hope Debbie likes the surprise. And then there are my ‘Antics’ who pick up the baton and read the books I write and help to spread the word.

I’d also like to give a shout-out to my fellow Carina UK authors to say how amazing you all are, especially Katlyn Duncan, Kierney Scott and Kerry Barrett for your input during the first draft. Thanks to the power of social media, a bunch of us are turning into a pretty tight-knit group made up of incredibly talented writers, across several different genres, and it is my privilege to consider many of you as my friends.

Many thanks must go to the wonderful staff at The Venue at Wimberry Hill for allowing me to explore and include their beautiful premises in Alice’s story. I would never have believed such a place could exist had I not seen it with my own eyes; I only hope I have done the place justice.

And finally to you, the reader; thank you for giving me this chance to write the stories I love and for welcoming characters like Lena, Jake, Zac, Alice, Flick, Nathan and the rest of the crazy gang from Popping the Cherry into your lives. I hope you can learn to forgive Alice as you embark on her story in A Girl Called Malice…

To my husband, Al, for being my best friend;

to my sister, Julie, for being my first friend;

and to Leonie, Andrew, Jo, Sara and Shona, for being fabulous friends for life…

Contents

Cover

Blurb

Title Page

Book List

Author Bio

Acknowledgement

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Chapter Thirty

Chapter Thirty-One

Soundtrack

Excerpt

Endpages

Copyright

Chapter one

Alone

Alice Taylor, you’re an idiot.

My one and only day off work all week yet I’d been up since the crack of dawn, unable to sleep after a night of tossing and turning. Summer was officially over and the first day of Year 13—Upper Sixth—had arrived. To quote Rizzo from Grease, it was my time to ‘rule the school’.

Except it isn’t.

Instead of strutting my stuff and causing chaos and mayhem in my wake, I was hiding out in my mum’s sleek-but-forgettable car like some crazy stalker because my own car was too noticeable. In a half-arsed attempt at a disguise, I’d pulled my hair back into a kill-me-now ponytail and wore over-sized sunglasses to hide my face and cover my bloodshot eyes. What the hell was I even doing there?

Torturing myself; that’s what.

Since there was nowhere else I wanted to be, I just sat there, with the window cranked down an inch to stop my breath from clouding the windscreen and blocking my view. One bus after another came and went, but then three girls stepped into view causing my empty stomach to lurch. Nina, Petra and Caroline had arrived on the scene and they looked magnificent, all tanned and glowing with health.

A twinge of regret rippled over me as I wished I could be with them. They took up our usual position next to the main double entrance. We’d claimed it as ‘our’ spot on the first day of Year 12, what with it being the ideal place to check everyone out as they made their way inside. Every day, we’d tear the dweebs to shreds with a look or a catty remark and, ideally, we’d make somebody cry before the first bell.

The absolute best way to start any term and to set the standard, we’d let everyone know who we were. Putting other people down gave me a back-handed boost, making me feel like I was better than them somehow and it soon became my coping mechanism, especially on the days I’d had a fight with Mum. Not that I’d ever admit why I’d done it, nor could I confide in anyone, which meant it was now up to Nina, Petra and Caroline to continue my tradition.

So why weren’t they?

Scratch that: it was obvious they were too busy looking for me. Their three heads turned this way and that, glancing at every car arriving in the car park and peering into the last wave of buses as they pulled up. It was pitiful how lost they looked without me and so they should, I was their leader after all.

No…I’d been their leader but not any more.

For a year they’d hung onto my every word and did whatever I told them to do. Back-up in numbers was always handy when your sole purpose at college was to offend everyone. I happened to be particularly talented at rubbing people up the wrong way and my last day in Year 12 was sure to go down in college folklore. I’d known even then that I was jacking in college but I really wanted to go out with a bang. How else would I be remembered otherwise?

I didn’t want to be just another faceless nobody, I got enough of that at home, and Virginia’s total and utter humiliation had been top of my wish list. When her pathetic Operation: Popping the Cherry shortlist had landed at my feet, the stupid bitch hadn’t even realised she’d given me the ammunition I needed for her downfall until it was too late.

Bittersweet, that last day at college just so happened to be my finest moment to date: the day I’d finally knocked the virtuous Virginia off her pedestal and brought her squeaky-clean reputation crashing down around her. Virginia wasn’t her real name of course; it was just the nickname I’d come up with for Valentina, another girl in my year on account of her being a virgin and a regular goody-two-shoes.

At least that’s the image she portrayed, but according to two of her exes, Damian and Hayden, she was a total cock-tease, yet she had the nerve to call me a slut. It was no wonder they’d both come looking for me. You wouldn’t catch me getting a guy all hot and bothered and then withholding the goods. Far from it. As guys went, I’d had worse. In fact, Hayden and I now had a bit of a ‘friends-with-benefits’ thing going on; aside from the fact we weren’t actually friends and neither did I want to be.

Judging from Virginia’s total no-show, I could take some comfort that I wasn’t the only one whose sixth form college education was over. Pity it wasn’t enough to take the edge off the bitter aftertaste left in my mouth. I looked back at my friends among the swarms of losers and total nobodies in their bland uniform of jeans and tees and got my second twinge of regret in as many seconds. I should have been over there, adding a much-needed dose of glamour, not hiding out.

Petra’s gaze turned in my direction and forced me to duck even lower into my seat. Through the open window, the sounds of the first warning bell reached my ears and tugged on my resolve. All I had to do was show up for class and no one would be any the wiser. Well, aside from the fact I looked a mess and had a job these days.

Nina, Petra and Caroline shared a glance, then Caroline checked her phone but if there was any message there, it wasn’t from me. I could see her fingers moving as she typed something and my phone buzzed less than ten seconds later. Straight to the point, her text simply read,

‘Where R U?’

I started typing a reply but my fingers stilled when the words failed to come. Guilt crawled the length of my arms and made my skin prickle as if an army of ants was marching all over me. They were my only friends. They’d be gutted, or worse…What if they hated me for leaving them in the lurch? I should have told them I was quitting as soon as I’d made the decision but something had held me back.

When I did finally decide to tell them, they’d practically disappeared. I barely saw them over the summer holidays to the extent they didn’t realise I worked full time. Some friends. How exactly was I supposed to inform them that I was dropping out of college if they didn’t keep in touch?

Music blared from nearby and I lifted my gaze from my phone to see where it was coming from. A little black car drove into the car park and pulled up alongside me. Whoever it was had a decent taste in music and I couldn’t help looking across to see who was driving. I regretted it instantly when a familiar face came into view. The music shut off the instant Virginia cut the engine. She’d shown up for college after all.

Perfect.

Thankfully, she was too busy gathering up her stuff to notice me staring. For how long though? Little Miss Perfect was going to have to walk right by me and I couldn’t afford to be noticed, not when I was alone and in no fit state of mind for that sort of confrontation. Left with no other option, I flattened myself against the passenger seat and counted to thirty before I risked a peek over the dashboard.

Certain the coast was clear, I sat up fully and spotted Virginia on college ground as she headed straight towards Nina, Petra and Caroline, who straightened as Virginia approached. Nina, Petra and Caroline’s lips moved and their sneers were awesome but their words seemed to fall on deaf ears. Virginia sauntered past them with her head held high. The smug cow. Talk about rubbing salt into the wound. She had no right to be smiling, looking all happy while I was slowly dying inside, and she definitely had no right to walk past my girls as if they weren’t there.

At least I knew what to write in my reply to Caroline now. I snatched up my phone from where it had fallen into the footwell and typed, ‘You’re on your own this time, girls, I’m done with college. Give ‘Virginia’ hell for me’ then I hit send before I could change my mind.

Time slowed as I waited for their reactions. Acutely aware of my racing heartbeat, I tapped my fingers against the steering wheel in time with the pounding rhythm. I knew the exact moment my text arrived because Caroline immediately stopped scouring the grounds for me and stared at her phone. My pulse spiked and I sucked in deep breaths through my nose, keeping my mouth shut for fear of being sick.

This is it…my reckoning.

Of all the scenarios I’d envisaged, the one thing I hadn’t anticipated was the slow grin which spread across Caroline’s face. She quickly handed her phone to Nina whose jaw plopped open as she lifted her gaze, almost looking right at me. A flicker of emotion—sorrow, or disappointment, maybe even concern—swept across Nina’s elfin features but then it vanished, replaced by a broad smile.

So much for being gutted.

Petra’s reaction didn’t show any concern at all. It was surreal, more like I was watching it on a television screen than seeing it in person. Their excited squeals grated on the last of my raw nerves but they stuck the knife in further with a round of high-fives before forming a huddle and embracing tightly. The two-faced bitches then broke apart to do some ridiculous jig that I wouldn’t be caught dead doing.

What the fuck?

I had my seatbelt off and my hand on the door release before I remembered I wasn’t supposed to be there. No, I was supposed to be tucked up in bed at home, fast asleep and completely oblivious to the absolute betrayal of my so-called friends. ‘To hell with them,’ I yelled, blinking back the tears that blurred my view. I smacked the heel of my hand against the steering wheel again and again, the jarring pain shooting up into my shoulder as the urge to do something stupid grew stronger. Before I could act on it, I gunned the engine and slammed the car into reverse.

I took one last look at college, then wheelspun away from my hiding place with a screech of tyres. So what if they saw me. Maybe it would wipe the smirks off their sanctimonious faces if they knew they’d just made it onto my hit-list. ‘I don’t need anyone, capiche?’ My strangled voice reverberated around the empty car, a stark reminder that it was just me, on my own.

Like always.

I paid no attention to where I was nor where I was headed. It didn’t matter. It’s not like I had anywhere to be. All I could do was drive. Seconds turned into minutes as I fought to block the thoughts which threatened to drown me. A police car came into view so I eased my foot off the accelerator; I didn’t need a ticket on top of everything else. Gradually, the tension eased in my hands and shoulders, eventually spreading to my chest.

Able to take more than short, shallow breaths again, I filled my lungs with air and focused purely on the mechanics of driving until the monotony of changing up and down the gears soothed me. Despite driving aimlessly for what had felt like an eternity, a brief glance out of the window told me exactly where I was and gave me an idea. Without bothering to check behind me, let alone use my indicator, I moved into the outside lane ready to make the rapidly approaching right turn.

My manoeuvre earned me a honk from the car I’d presumably just cut up. I shot the guy the finger and clung onto the spark it ignited—that fighting spirit—and channelled it. Less than two minutes later, I turned right again onto one of the streets branching off from the main road then followed it around a large bend, slowing down as the house I sought came into view.

Devoid of cars, the empty driveway didn’t mean anything, especially when the window above the garage still had the curtains drawn. The odds of Hayden being up and out of the house by ten o’clock were about as good as me joining a convent so I pulled up outside the modest semi-detached house. I’d once harboured dreams of living in a house just like it but then mum had got her hooks into her fancy man and propelled us straight into a grand, detached mansion.

Our current house was a far cry from the grotty terraced house I’d grown up in, complete with rising damp that always made my clothes smell musty. The area had been beautiful though, all rolling green hills. A part of me wished I could turn back time and go back to that dank house and get back to how it used to be with Mum. Or at least how I remembered it.

My deep sigh sounded deafening in the silence. With the burden of hindsight, I’d long ago realised none of it was true. Mum had never really been there for me, to the extent that I couldn’t even call her Mum any more; she insisted I use her first name and I had to pretend to be her little sister.

Keen to escape my darkening thoughts, I reached for the seatbelt clasp but found nothing there to release. In my haste to get away from college I must have forgotten to put it on. Something else that didn’t really matter. Mum—no, sorry, Michelle—would be more bothered about her car getting damaged than me if I’d crashed. Maybe I’d have more success at getting her attention as a ghost rather than her actual flesh and blood haunting and tormenting her.

Enough.

I leaned across the passenger seat and grabbed my handbag from the footwell where it had fallen. I’d been driving like a maniac with a death wish yet somehow nothing had spilled out. Grateful for small mercies, I dragged it up onto the seat and rooted around until my fingers brushed my travel make-up bag containing my emergency kit. Once I’d finished rubbing the foundation in with my fingertips, I applied the black liquid eyeliner, drawing a thick, heavy line across the top of my eyelid.

After years of practice, I had the whole look down to five minutes and I only needed to use the rear-view mirror twice. While the first coat of mascara dried, I reached up to release my hair from the vile ponytail and tossed the bobble onto the floor. My brush was still on my dresser at home so I had to make do with running my fingers through it to try and resuscitate the lifeless roots.

One final coat of mascara and a slick of lip gloss later, I was done; my transformation was complete. With my mask fixed in place and my game face on, a familiar thrill buzzed in my fingertips. I sucked in a deep breath, letting it out in short bursts to get my blood pumping.

Show time.

The sun blazed down on me, touching my bare skin and caressing my arms and legs as I set off down the path. It took two rings of the doorbell and several loud knocks before a distorted shape grew larger from behind the glass.

‘All right, all right. I’m coming,’ Hayden yelled, his voice heavy with sleep. Another late night most likely, either gigging with his band, Screwed, or from pulling a shift behind the bar to top up his funds. The door inched open and his face appeared, squinting against the bright light. His stormy expression softened the moment he saw me. ‘Where’s the emergency?’

‘Funny you should say that,’ I said, hitting him my best come-hither smile. I pushed the door open fully to reveal his half-naked body then casually skimmed my fingers over the front of his drawstring shorts as I drew my hand back.

Hayden’s lips parted in a gasp and he quirked his eyebrow at me. ‘Like that, is it?’

‘Like what?’ I said, feigning innocence. My actions betrayed my tone when I slipped my hand inside the waistband of his shorts and gripped him, hard, immediately rewarded by a sharp grunt.

In a blur of movement, Hayden reached for my shoulders and dragged me inside. He kicked the door closed, then slammed me forcefully back against the cool surface, knocking the air from my lungs. I whimpered, but definitely not with pain. The jolt had given me the final nudge I needed to fully immerse myself in the role I’d carved out for myself.

‘So, this emergency of yours,’ Hayden said, his voice now heavy with something other than sleep and in complete contrast to the feather-light touch of his finger drawing circles on my bare thigh and moving upwards. ‘Is it something I can help you with?’

‘Maybe,’ I said, still playing coy.

‘Is that so?’ The stubble on his cheek scraped across my skin as he trailed his lips across my jaw and down to the crook of my neck before breaking off to stare into my eyes. ‘How about this, then?’ His hand brushed against my knickers and I shivered involuntarily, ‘Does this help?’

‘Yes,’ I whispered. The word turned into a hiss the moment his fingers eased past the cotton barrier of my knickers. ‘Oh hell yes.’ I released my grip on him just long enough to grab the band of his shorts then wrench them down, exposing just how awake he was now.

Hayden lived up to the phrase ‘morning glory’ and then some. He followed my lead and dragged my knickers down over my hips then let them fall to my ankles, replacing the scant fabric with his fingers. When I reached for him again, he batted my hand away with his free one. ‘If you do that again, it’ll be all over,’ he said, all the while teasing me and keeping me pinned against the door. ‘Your choice.’

‘Fine.’ I pouted playfully and squeezed my thighs together to halt his movement. ‘Where do you want me?’

Hayden smiled a wicked grin and wiggled his fingers inside me one more time before withdrawing them. He stepped out of his shorts, half-kicking them across the floor, then he reached for my hand. Using him for balance, I reached down to manoeuvre my knickers over my feet without removing my heels, then let him lead me up the stairs to his bedroom.