She curls her fingers around my arm and squeezes, giving me a sympathetic smile before moving from my side to join Henry.
After I shut the door and settle in with them on the floor, I feel a little bit of the weight of the day lift off my shoulders.
“Nobody’s giving you shit again, right?” Henry asks as he opens the pizza box and starts handing out slices.
“Other than Loni’s lovely sibling—”
“Shut your filthy mouth, Mallory Ellis,” she interrupts, and I release my first genuine laugh of the day.
“But no, they’re not,” I continue, dodging Loni’s light jab at my shoulder. “They’re more interested in Zoe Buckley.”
“She quit today,” Henry says between bites of pizza. “It sucks, and I don’t buy for a second that Porter’s innocent.”
Loni opens the tequila bottle and shoves it in my direction. I accept it gratefully and take a deep swig. “I hate this place.”
“I’ve been saying that for years and nobody understands.” Twisting her lips, she snatches the tequila from my grasp and tips it to her mouth. She’s making a face when she lowers it. “Jesus, this is awful.”
“It’s—" But my defense of the Patron is interrupted by a sharp knock on my door.
“Three guesses as to whom that might be,” Loni whispers, her eyes widening as she downs another sip of the tequila that she had just trash talked.
The knock comes again, harder this time.
“Ellis, I know you’re in there,” Saint’s voice cut through the air, irritated and insistent. “Let me in.”
“Should you get that?” Henry’s asks, eyes wide.
I press my lips together and shake my head firmly. “Nope.”
We sit there as Saint knocks a few more times before finally stopping. I know he hasn’t given up, though, and a beat later, my phone buzzes on my desk.
“You sure you don’t want to answer?” Loni murmurs, casting a sideways look at the phone rattling around the wood surface.
Leaning over, I snatch the device and power it off.
“Problem solved.”
They both stare at me like I’m insane, and maybe most people would be for blowing off Saint Angelle. He’d make quick work of dismantling their life in retaliation. The thing with me, though, is that he’s already done pretty much everything he could to pick apart the pieces of my life.
That’s why I don’t even look at my phone for the rest of the night.
Because there’s truly not much else he can do to me.
19
It doesn’t come as a surprise when I’m called in to see the headmaster first thing the next morning. I’m not someone who has the resources to throw hundreds at a problem to make it go away. Whatever punishment is coming my way is one I can’t escape.
I release a heavy sigh as I trudge through the administration building to Headmaster Aldridge’s office. When I step inside, I pause briefly. Saint’s already here, and I’m embarrassed to admit I didn’t really think about the fact that we might be punished together. His bronze jawline tenses but he doesn’t say a word.
Aldridge is sitting behind his desk and extends a hand toward the empty chair next to Saint.
“Please take a seat, Ms. Ellis.”
I move to obey. Once I’m settled, he folds his hands together and darts his eyes between both of us.
“Now, you both know why you’re here, so I won’t waste our time with the details,” he begins in a hard voice. “For blatantly disrupting and walking out of class, you’ll both receive a week’s worth of detention. You’ll be cleaning up litter around campus every day after classes. You’ll report to the head groundskeeper, who’ll have your supplies.”
I fight not to groan out loud. Even though I knew it was coming, I thought we’d be stuck somewhere inside. Being forced to clean up litter around campus will no doubt feed fuel to the anti-Mallory flames. I can almost hear Laurel’s taunts already.
“Headmaster Aldridge, I think you’re forgetting something,” Saint says. I lower my eyes to my lap so Aldridge won’t see me roll them. Of course he’s going to try and weasel out of his punishment. I bet he pulls the my-family-founded-this-school card.
I pop my head back up to find the headmaster’s eyebrows making a slow ascent toward his balding hairline. “And what is that, Mr. Angelle?”
“I’ve got a home track meet on Friday.”
I have to admit, I’m floored that’s his only objection. I steal a glance Saint’s way. His expression is dark, his eyes flashing dangerously, but his tone is calm and controlled, if not subzero cold. “I’m the team captain.”
Aldridge stares at him for several moments, and I hold my breath, waiting to see what he’ll do. Bring down the hammer? Bow down like a bitch?
“Very well, Mr. Angelle. I’ll make an exception in your case. You can complete your last day of detention Sunday morning instead of Friday night.”
Bitch it is.
I shouldn’t feel disappointed. It’s not like his capitulation is surprising. I know, though, that if I tried to make a similar request, I’d be shot down. After all, I was kicked off the swim team just for being a suspect for something, granted a pretty extreme something, but I was never given the chance to plead my case.
All Saint has to do is level a person with his frosty glare, and they crumble to dust before him.
I’m pissed, which is why I totally lose my mind for a second and grumble under my breath, “Must be nice to have the red carpet rolled out.”
Of course, Headmaster Aldridge hears me. His sharp gaze locks on me and his lips thin into a disapproving line.
“You’re free to return to class, Mr. Angelle,” he says. “Ms. Ellis, I’d like you to stay a few minutes longer.”
“That’s not necessary—” Saint begins, but Aldridge puts his hand up to silence him. Great. He grows a pair of balls when it comes to punishing me.
“To class, Mr. Angelle,” he barks. “Please.”
Releasing a low rumble from the back of his throat, Saint shoves to his feet and marches toward the door, gazing toward me as he passes. I slash my lips into a tight line, then return my attention to Headmaster Aldridge.
He waits until the door slams shut behind Saint before he speaks.
“Ms. Ellis, tell me, are you doing your utmost to stay out of trouble?”
“What exactly are you implying?”
“I’m not implying anything,” he insists, which I know is bullshit. “Simply curious how you’re doing.”
I narrow my eyes. “With all due respect, sir, we both know that’s not true.”
He frowns and doesn’t appear impressed by my challenge.
Eventually, though, he sighs and says, “Alright. You’re an intelligent young woman, Ms. Ellis, so I won’t insult you further by pretending otherwise. Here’s the truth: I continue to receive daily phone calls and emails from concerned parents asking me to remove you from this school.”
“Why? The dorm fire was faulty wiring. I had nothing to do with it.”
Not that I ever thought he actually believed I was innocent.