Havoc At Prescott High Quotes

Sometimes pain is pretty, to the people who have too much of it,

When you exist in the ugly, you learn to live in the beautiful.

Nobody listens when bad girls cry.

Some things break when you put too much pressure on them, but those shards they break into can be twice as deadly.

I’ve never heard someone say something as inane as “there’s a kettle in the cupboard” and have it sound like “I’m going to fucking murder you.” Impressive, I must say.

Havoc. They create it. They revel in it. They dispense it.

We might live in the darkness, but that doesn't mean we're not allowed to enjoy the moonlight

Hell is empty, and all the devils are here,” Oscar murmurs,

They used to be my tormentors, but now they’re my dark angels.

See, that's the thing with pain. Once it finds you and grabs hold, it doesn't let go easily. It's always there, a demon with reaching claws.

Men have selfish motivation, want, and desire tainting their vision; little girls have dreams, ambition, and honesty turning theirs crystal clear

Every step closer to the grave is one step further away from this hell we call life.

Virginity is an abstract patriarchal social construct that has zero validity and exists for the sole purpose of commoditizing young women but go on, I’ll wait.

This time, I'm not kissing the prince to become the princess, I'm tonguing the villain to guarantee the destruction of others.

I’m surrounded by my monsters now, but at least I hold the leash of some very pretty ones.

Some men sleep and dream. Some men have nightmares. You’re a nightmare, Bernadette, a beautiful nightmare.

When you accept a person for who they are, you don’t choose bits and pieces. You accept every part of them, right down to the rotten bits. Because everybody wants somebody to love their rottenness.

Nobody could ruin us, Vic; we’re already ruined

Predators. That's what they look like, like predators. The thing is, I'm nobody's fucking prey.

I’m Bernadette Blackbird, leather-wearing, face-smashing bitch from hell.

As Alice once said, there's no use going back to yesterday; I was a different person then.

We might live in the dark, but that doesn't mean we're not allowed to enjoy the moonlight.

The monsters come anyway—whether you wear short skirts or sweats.

Little by little, a little becomes a lot.” Oscar

You aren’t going to speak to me like that anymore.

He freaks me the fuck out, this motherfucker. Like, how does he materialize out of nowhere like that?

I’ve never stopped loving you; I just thought you should know that.

I’m going to marry the shit of you, and then tear that dress off,

You thought you caged a kitty cat? You got a fucking cougar. Watch my claws when you take me to bed.

Say something, Bernadette,” Hael whispers, his voice husky with pleasure. “I want to hear your voice.” His request hits me like a brick to the chest, and for a moment, it's all I can do to sit there, feeling his hard length inside of me. My voice? Why? “Shut the fuck up,” is all I can think to respond with, and Hael laughs, letting me push him back with a hand to the chest.

Sometimes, it feels almost impossible to see past one's own hurt, like looking directly into the sun. The brilliance of it is blinding. But if we close our eyes, we can feel the warmth of those rays on our skin.

When you’ve been lied to by everyone around you, when you have nothing else, you realize the one currency you can carry is truth. So a single word does have meaning. A promise does hold importance. And a pact is worth carrying to the grave.

We’re going to rule this city together, Bernadette. You and me, king and queen.

His hold on me is endless and eternal; it isn’t unbreakable because the possibility of being broken was never even an option. It just is. A fact. As sure as the moon rises.

don’t care much about words—people lie, after all—but actions, now that’s another story.

That's what they look like, like predators. The thing is, I'm nobody's fucking prey. Maybe they're more like lions looking for a lioness to mount.

A seventeen-year-old guy covered in tattoos scrubbing up stray droplets of pee to keep a toilet clean? Unheard of.

Sometimes, you just want to be left alone inside your fantasy.

Vulnerability leaves a person open to endless pain.

The women are lusting after Hael, the men after the car. It’s pretty pathetic. But I can't say I totally blame them. It is hot. The Camaro, I mean, not the man.

I take another drag on the cigarette, certain that they’re stolen, positive that they taste better because they were obtained with crafty fingers and tomfoolery.

Chin up, Bernadette. There is no rest for the wicked.

I haven’t been afraid since I was five and here you come, sauntering in and shattering everything. That’s what you’ve done, Bernie, you’ve ruined me.

Life is messy and weird and fucked-up, but even amongst all those thorns, there are roses.

Why is that always the salvation of the wicked, to pray? God doesn’t want to hear their lies anymore than I do.

Sometimes, we don’t get everything that we want. Sometimes, there are unknowns and we just have to learn to live with them. Life is messy and weird and fucked-up, but even amongst all those thorns, there are roses.

Confucius says dig two graves before embarking on a journey of revenge. But what if that revenge is the only thing keeping you alive? And what if the people you're seeking revenge on deserve it? If Batman had just killed the Joker from the get-go, how many more people would still be alive?

Callum looks like a fairy-tale prince, ready to ride in on a white horse and save the day. In all reality, he's the villain, the one you're supposed to hate, but can't because he's too damn pretty. That's how he gets you in the end, like a poisonous butterfly, too beautiful for the crow to resist.

Now that I’m in the same position, I can see why he did it. Why he knew he needed to do it. The dark will always play by its own rules. It’s all well and good to want a superhero, but it’s impossible to expect someone made of light to fight the shadows; they might disappear when there’s a ray of sunshine, but they’re not gone. They’ve just retreated. The night always returns, after all.

Having a miscarriage in the middle of the gang war is … impossible.

When glass shatters, it cannot be fixed. You can collect the pieces, but your hands will bleed after. There is no putting those little shards back together. They will forever remain dangerous fragments of a thing that used to be.

Bernadette, you are the driving force behind everything I do. You always have been. I can’t thank you enough for that. Without you, I wouldn’t have had a reason. A reason to live. A reason to fight. A reason to succeed. You’re the oxygen in my blood and the electricity that makes my heart beat.

Because I’m a woman and everyone knows that women are magical goddesses with the pain tolerance of titans. Pluck a man’s eyebrow hair and he screams in agony. Women deliver people through their vaginas. Get on our level, bitches.

I lick my lower lip.

I try, I really do, but nobody touched me or hugged me or loved on me as a child. It’s a struggle every goddamn day to remember how to behave.

I pull her face forward, so that our lips are touching. She tastes like tears when I lick her mouth, but that’s okay. Those tears belong to me as much as her smile or her laughter. When you accept a person for who they are, you don’t choose bits and pieces. You accept every part of them, right down to the rotten bits. Because everybody wants somebody to love their rottenness. Even me.

I take the jacket and slip it on. After all, the employees here are basically slaves to the wealthy. They’re paid a pittance that doesn’t even cover their fucking bills to wait on these people hand and foot. Why is it so much to ask, to just give people a living wage? How the fuck is this shit controversial and politically polarizing?

Until the world stops favoring the wealthy and corrupt, until there are opportunities for girls like Stacey Langford, you have to accept that they’ll do whatever it takes to survive. They shouldn’t have to sell their bodies, but the world you’ve created gives them few choices. But go ahead, mansplain to me what a revolution looks like. I’ll wait.

those dirty, rotten H.A.V.O.C. Boys. Hael, Aaron, Victor, Oscar, and Callum. Each of them is terrifying in their own right, but together? They own this school and everyone in it.

Most students at Prescott would rather jump off a bridge than risk calling Havoc. And it's the way I start my first day of senior year. Stacey is right: I really do hope I know what I'm doing here. But the phrase is fight fire with fire, right? And I, I need an inferno.

The Havoc Boys are more than just bullies; they're a full-fledged gang. Once upon a time, they took me down. This time, I'm sending them on a mission of my own. I just hope this transaction doesn't leave me broken and bleeding like it did last time.

Take the week,” Vic repeats, moving away from me and hopping off the edge of the stage, his boots loud on the cement floor. “Because once you give your answer, you can’t take it back.

There’s nothing worse than him, the ultimate villain in my horror story. A cop, the son of a well-respected judge, the brother of a prosecutor. Untouchable, impossible, the epitome of evil.

I’ve lived more nightmares in my seventeen years than most have lived their entire lives.

What’s so much worse about pretending to be a bride? Isn’t that better than finding myself in the beds of all five Havoc Boys?

There's nothing I want more than vengeance, and nothing that turns me on like danger.

I’m almost certain that she’s a psychopath. Once, when I spilled a cup of juice on the last of her fancy rugs, she locked me in the bathroom after filling the tub with bleach. The fumes made me so sick that I passed out.

It only lasts a couple of seconds, but as our blood mingles, and our gazes lock, I know that I’ll never be the same again.

Did you ever love me?” I query, feeling my muscles throb and pulse with rage. “I mean, for even one, single second?

His kiss is a demand for more, the sealing of a deal, like some kind of fucked-up reverse fairy tale. This time, I'm not kissing the prince to become the princess, I'm tonguing the villain to guarantee the destruction of others.

In reality, I crave his touch the way the ocean craves the shore. Even when it retreats, it always comes back; it simply can’t help itself.

Best part of dating five strong dudes: I don’t have to do any heavy lifting. It’s a tad sexist, I know, but I figure after centuries of patriarchal domination, it’s the least they can do for me.

If you can find beauty in decay, then you’ve just learned what it means to be human. The meaning of life, in so many words.

There’s nothing magical about the glowing face of a Samsung or an iPhone. Technology, in its own way, is sort of tragic. I’d much rather exist in the sorcery of candlelight.

It feels like, with the way he’s looking at me, that if the other boys are gods then Victor is the king of the gods and we all belong to him.

And no matter what, I still bashed James Barrasso’s head in with a Yellowstone National Park souvenir.

Although I’m not sure how many readers would want to jump into this shit-filled pond—even with all the hot-ass man candy and the rope tying and the orgies and the multiple orgasms and … oh, wait. Never mind. I’d jump my ass into this shit just for the boys.

What about your phone?” I ask, wanting to call Bernadette, hear her voice, listen to her sigh with relief at hearing mine. We’re a tragic fairy tale, me and her. Childhood sweethearts rarely live to see the sunrise together.

A rural neighborhood popped up fairly close by, but even those houses are abandoned now. Some people just can’t survive a pandemic when all the bailout money goes to greedy banks and corporate shitboxes. You can thank covid-19 and our corrupt government for the foreclosed homes that sit nearby.

This is me. Bernadette Savannah Blackbird. Pretty in pink, but tainted by blood.

The beast inside of me writhes, mixed up in a dark space between love and hate. I love Hael. I hate Kali. The intensity levels are hard to separate. I feel both violent and horny at the same time.

I won’t let these people make me feel like shit, not anymore. As Eleanor Roosevelt once said, “no one can make you feel inferior without your consent.

I never thought I’d be the sort of person who revels in bloodshed and pain, but life gave me both of those things in spades. My choice was to return it quid pro quo or let it consume me. I’ve chosen the former.

It’s all well and good to want a superhero, but it’s impossible to expect someone made of light to fight the shadows; they might disappear when there’s a ray of sunshine, but they’re not gone. They’ve just retreated. The night always returns, after all.

You’re my moonlight, Bernadette,” Aaron whispers back, voice ragged and tired and full of a tempering relief. “I live to walk in your light. Don’t ever question that.

When he rubs his thumb over my lip and leans in to kiss me, he tastes like the sweet agony of first love, the raw carnal heat of a one-night stand, and the bliss of a forever romance, all at once.

That’s why I think that, after we die, we’re reborn without any of our previous memories. It’d be too much, to keep living life and gathering up so much pain.

You,” Aaron says, looking me dead in the face. The shadows make his green-gold eyes hard to make out, but that’s okay. Just as I’ve memorized Vic’s gaze, his smell, his taste, his feel, I’ve memorized Aaron’s. I’m going to carry little parts of their dark souls inside of my own. “Not the girls, not my friends … just you, Bernadette.” He leans in toward me, capturing my chin in gentle fingers. “You’re my endgame.

I love that Aaron Fadler tastes like home and sweet things, like safety and childhood.

I love that Aaron Fadler tastes like home and sweet things, like safety and childhood. All of that wrapped up in a boy with hard muscles, an even harder cock, and a blanket of ink … that’s why I’m waking up with wet heat at the apex of my thighs.

I grin and slide my tongue along the underside of his dick, on a place called the frenulum. Thanks to the shitty worksheet in my biology class, I know the proper name. Lucky me. I can be scientific and perverted at the same time.

We exchange a long look, one shared by lovers in the dead of night. It says I know your body aches the way mine does; I know your heart pounds. It’s a look that can be summed up with dark chocolate, black vodka, and clove cigarettes. It’s a look that, for me, tastes like the blackest night of the year when there’s no moon, only stars across a velvet sky.

Fucked by my dark gods, claimed by their inked hands, my soul destroyed.

I’m being terrible tonight, wanton and sinful, and I love it. I love being bad. And I’m not ashamed.

Aaron slides into me with the hot, hard length of his shaft, completing this macabre and carnal ritual, officially anointing this den of sin with the seal of Havoc Girl. It’s a point of pride for me to ride the last man in my harem, working my body against his as our moans mingle together, and I become acutely aware of four other sets of eyes watching us both.

It’s so quiet in there, so peaceful and warm, that you wouldn’t know five masked boys had just run a train on yours truly.

We will find Callum. We will win this city. We will not let them win.

Vic comes when I tell him to, whispering horrible things in his ear that cause him to shudder and grip me like he’s falling. This time, it’s my turn to catch him. And I do. And I’m okay with that. I do not see Kali’s ghost. I don’t think I ever will again. No, I know that I won’t. Because I’m done letting other people get in my head. I’m done consenting to the act of feeling inferior. Fuck all of that. I am queen of Havoc, and we are just getting started.

The Havoc Boys are my strength, but they’re also my weakness. My life force and my demise. My rise and fall.

It’s part of my armor, that lipstick, that color, those opinions. Because if I can tell you what lipstick I’m wearing and why, then I don’t have to answer all those other pesky questions that a person can pose: who are you? what do you do? where are you going in life and why?