Immoral Confessions - R. Holmes Page 0,1

tower of the courtyard begins to ring, signaling that I am officially late for my last class of the day.

Late. Books soaking wet, and now I'll end up in detention because Sister Mary Margaret doesn't tolerate tardiness, no matter the reason.

My phone vibrates in my pocket insistently, and I try to juggle the ruined books between my arms to retrieve it from my coat pocket. When I pull it out, there's a text from my stepmom, Victoria, with another reminder to skip the bread at dinner tonight because I looked a little "fluffy" in the picture I posted on my social media page.

I groan out loud.

Can this day get any worse?

Truly famous last words.

My head falls onto the book in front of me and I let out a frustrated curse. It’s been hours, and I’m no closer than I was when I started trying to comprehend ancient artifacts of Europe. I’ve been hiding in the library most of the evening, praying I don’t have to deal with Mara.

The dark hue of moonlight shines through the immense floor-to-ceiling stained glass windows in front of me. Its colored rivulets of glass cast a pale glow on my history books that are spread out haphazardly on the library table.

I’ve barely lifted my head from studying since the sun went down outside. My head aches and my neck is stiff from sitting in the same position for the past four hours. All I need is to get a C on this test knocking my GPA down. I’ll spend twice the amount of time trying to get back the points I lost.

Exasperated, I sigh.

It’s fine, Valentina, you’ll just end up back in California living with your father and stepmonster who will put a lock on the fridge in fear of you getting “fatter”.

I slam my history book shut, then begin to put it into my backpack when I hear the entrance door creak open and muffled voices.

Shit. No one is supposed to know I’m here.

Sister Mary Margaret has been letting me study in the library after hours even though it is against the rules. I would die if I got her in trouble. I quickly gather my notebooks, pens, and laptop, and shove them in the bag before dashing to hide behind the shadows of the tall wooden shelves. My heart is pounding in my chest at the thought of being caught. I listen as the voices come closer and closer, and I place my hand over my mouth to silence the sound of my labored breathing.

“I can’t believe we are sneaking into the library, dude. I’m surprised you didn’t burst into flames the second we walked across the threshold. Have you ever actually been inside a library? Can you even read?” The gruff voice echoes somewhere across the building, but close enough to where I can make out their conversation.

Who sneaks into the library except me?

“Fuck off. You’re the one failing English literature because you’re too worried about getting your dick sucked, asshole,” guy number one scoffs in protest, and I hear a fist hit flesh.

“Chill,” the command comes from a new voice. One that makes my skin turn hot, and the heat rush to my cheeks from the one lone syllable.

I peek around the edge of the bookshelf to try and get a better look at the group, but it’s too dark to see anything but the rows of shelves.

“Why are we here again?” the first guy says.

I hear shuffling and books being moved around and thrown to the floor.

“Numbnuts was here last night and set his phone down on a shelf.”

“What the fuck were you doing here last night?”

Their voices are getting closer and closer, so I tiptoe further down the shelf, ready to flee.

“Complicated. When the pussy calls…” He trails off and I hear how big his ego is simply by the tone of his voice. What a pig.

Finally, they come into view and my jaw drops when I see who they are. Rhys Blackwood. St. Augustine’s very own fallen angel. He’s so far fallen from grace, everyone knows there is no saving him. When you hear Rhys’s name… you hear the sordid tales of what he’s done at St. Augustine. The rumors about him run rampant. When you hear of him, you’re either fearful of what it means to be in his sights, or ready to fall at his feet. It’s only ever one or the other. It’s a shame, because he’s so beautiful it’s ethereal. The second he walks