“I appreciate the outrage,” I say, playfully nudging her shoulder even though there’s nothing lighthearted about the way my insides are churning. “Unfortunately, I don’t think there’s much we can do about it. Just have to grin and bear it for now. They’ll get bored and back off eventually.”
Yeah, that feels like the lie of the century.
“But Mallory, you shouldn’t have to—”
I shake my head and cut her off. “No use stressing over it. Let’s just focus on getting through this semester, okay?”
She scowls, and I know she wants to push the issue further. After a moment of studying my face, though, she heaves a sigh of defeat and shakes her head. “Fine. If you just want to let it blow over on its own, we can let it blow over on its own, but you should tell Carley. You shouldn’t have to put up with them stalking you around campus.”
I give her a side hug. “Thank you very much. I know this concession was very painful for you.”
“You better count your blessings, girl,” she replies.
I laugh as we continue on for a little while, and then split off to head to our respective first classes. Luckily, we won’t be apart long. We’re in the same class third period, Statistics, along with Henry. It’ll be the highlight of my day, and I mean that literally.
I’m not looking forward to my other three courses. As I enter my building and walk down the hall towards my classroom, I avoid meeting anyone’s eye and keep my gaze locked straight ahead of me.
“Watch it, the slut will set you on fire if you piss her off.”
“Did you hear she also threatened to kill Headmaster Aldridge?”
“She wasn’t supposed to come back, but apparently, the bitch’s foster mom threatened to sue if the school didn’t let her.”
“Typical welfare bitch.”
I still hear the whispers, still feel the glares, but I block them out as best I can. I’m going to need to get good at doing that if I’m ever going to make it through this semester. I’m determined as hell to do it, though. To finish, and to find out who left me that photo and note.
That’s the main reason I’m back here. I have to know why Jenn never mentioned Angelview.
I came back to this hellhole just to figure that out.
At that moment, I walk into Environmental Lit and come to a stumbling halt. My eyes widen, and I can’t believe what I’m seeing. No. No, life couldn’t be this cruel.
Saint, Liam, and Gabe are all sitting on the far side of the room, their attention focused on something that Gabe’s showing them on his phone. They’re all in this class.
All of them.
What the fuck?
What nightmare have I just stepped into?
Three sets of eyes—steely blue, brown, and green—turn in my direction as if drawn to me, and I can do nothing but stand frozen in the doorway like a goddamn mannequin.
Saint’s glare is icy, and he scowls before quickly jerking his gaze away from me. He’s probably thinking I’ll disappear if he ignores me long enough. Liam’s brow is furrowed with what looks to be concern of some kind, and Gabe appears to be on the verge of a giggle-fit, as if this whole situation is so fucking hilarious.
Someone shoves into my back, and I stumble forward, shaken from my stupor.
Ducking my head, I hurry to the opposite side of the room as them to take the first empty seat I find. I try not to look their way, but I can feel their eyes on me.
How did this happen?
Why did this have to happen?
Do I just have the shittiest luck in the world?
It’s only one class, I tell myself. Just one. I can survive one fucking class with all three of them.
How terrible could it really be?
Pretty fucking terrible, as it turns out.
Not only are Saint, Liam, and Gabe all in my first class, Saint and Liam are in my Ecology course as well. Luckily, I’m given a reprieve during third period, when I’m with Loni and Henry for Statistics. I quickly fill Loni in on the rest of my day, and she appears appropriately shocked.
“You’ve got the worse luck in the world,” she says, mirroring one of my own thoughts.
“I know,” I hiss back. “One of them would be bad enough, but all three of them? Just kill me now and end my misery.”
Loni punches my arm so hard that it stings. “Chin up, Mal. You’ve dealt with the three of them before. You’ll be able to handle them now. Besides, none of the teachers will let them mess with you in class.”
I suppose she has a point.
I run that thought through my head over and over as I head to my fourth period class, which is the last regular class of my day apart from independent study, but my stomach is in knots. My last class of the day is Global History.
Dylan’s class.
Suddenly, being stuck with the three gods all day doesn’t seem like such a bad deal when compared to the train wreck I’m sure being around Dylan will be. When I saw his name typed in clear black letters on my schedule, I’d admittedly freaked out, but I’d convinced myself I could fix it. That I could switch to another class. But when Mrs. Wilmer emailed me back letting me know it was no longer possible to make adjustments to my schedule, I almost changed my mind again and fled back to Georgia.
But I can’t run away.
Not now.
Not after all my bravado and stubbornness. I would be the worst kind of coward, and I’m not about to give any of the assholes here the satisfaction of seeing me in that light. Dylan’s a teacher. I’m a student. He won’t do anything to me outright, or else he’ll risk exposing our past. I’m not the one who’s going to be faced with terrible consequences if our affair is made public knowledge.
That thought calms me slightly.
Then I walk into the classroom, and all sense of tranquility I’d managed to achieve vanishes in a flash.
The three gods are back, and this time, they have a rabid fangirl with them.
Laurel.
She’s sitting in the row behind them, staring at her phone with a bored expression on her face until she realizes I’ve walked into the room. Then, her mouth splits into the evilest grin I’ve ever seen. There’s not a doubt in my mind that this girl is Satan, just based off that smile alone, and I’ve just walked into hell.
I turn my gaze away from her, hating her as strongly as ever. I avoid looking at Saint and the others, but I can’t stop myself from glancing toward the front of the class.
Dylan is standing at the dry erase board, writing out his name and a few initial notes, but I can tell he knows I’m here. His shoulders are tense and his jaw taut, and it’s obvious to me that he’s trying too hard to keep his focus on what he’s writing. If I didn’t know him as well as I do, I would think his expression was calm and professional.
But I do know. I know him too well, in truth.
I know what his hands feel like pressed against my skin, and how soft his lips are running along my neck. I know he has an affinity for dominance and girls far too young for him.
So yeah, I know he’s furious and barely keeping it leashed.
Did he know I’d be in his class?
Did he know I attended Angelview when he took this job?
That’s another question that has haunted me for weeks. I can’t imagine this is all a coincidence. Either he’s here on his own, or someone intentionally brought him here because of me. Would Saint have that kind of clout? I don’t know if even he’d be able to have influence over new hires, but I don’t know who else it could’ve been.