“Where are we going today? Peak Point?” Trent asks as he untucks his shirt and loosens his school tie. His blazer is off, tossed over his shoulder.
He’s one of those idiots that thinks he has the entire market on swagger, but he’s really just like any other wannabe at this school—covered in Axe spray, always searching for willing pussy, and waving his mom’s black card around. Sean’s a little more bearable, but he’s a follower with no original thoughts. It’s like someone stuck a hand up his ass, shut off his brain, and controlled his mouth.
Nina clicks her tongue. “Please, what are you, a freshman? No senior girl wants to go to Peak Point to make out with you.” She shoves her manicured hand in Trent’s face, the gold bangles on her wrist clinking. “Do better, darling.”
Irritation simmers beneath my skin. Everything feels tighter, but maybe that’s the way my fists are balled in the pockets of my slacks.
“We should drive to Denver and raise hell.” They want something devilish to excite them? I’ll give it to them. My gaze finds Bishop’s. “In the principal’s Escalade.”
Bishop’s brows hike up and a whoop leaves him. He slaps me on the back. “Hell yes. Now you’re talking. My old man will flip his shit when he tries to leave campus today.”
Nina and her friend, Bailey, giggle into their hands.
“Where will we go?” Bailey asks.
Idle boredom leads to temptation. We’re all craving something that makes us feel alive.
“We’ll head for the university.” I make sure Nina is paying attention before stepping into Bailey’s space. She’s not as short as Blair, but still much shorter than me. I slip my fingers into her soft wavy hair as she gazes up at me, star-struck. “Then we’ll find a party to crash.”
When I peek at Nina from the corner of my eye, hers are narrowed and her arms are folded tight beneath her breasts. You don’t own me, sweetheart. I wink at Nina, selling it like the playboy flirt they all know me as. It feels like more of a mask this year than ever before. She pouts and threads her fingers with Sean’s.
I almost laugh. She can’t make me jealous. I’d need to want her for that to work.
“Oh,” Bailey breathes, leaning closer to me without subtlety.
I drop my hand and turn to Bishop. “Stash all the cars at the lake and we’ll ride over in one of my dad’s cars.”
“Yeah, perfect,” Bishop agrees with a knowing look.
We’ll get at both of our fathers with one stone.
Bishop turns to address the group, hands up. “All right, people. You heard our Devil Boy. Hop to it, chop chop.”
He claps his hands. As everyone spurs into action to follow our lead, I hang back. Bishop waits with me. Once the puppets are far enough down the steps, we begin our descent without anyone to eavesdrop.
“What else do you know about Davis?” I mutter, glancing in the direction she drove off in.
Ahead of us, the girls have run to their cars and Trent honks his horn while he peels out of the lot, Sean not far behind him. The girls howl like coyotes as other students watch their antics.
Bishop shrugs, raking a hand through his hair. He’s distracted by whatever he’s looking at on his phone. I smack his arm with my knuckles.
“Not much, dude.” It seems to take him a lot of effort to put his phone away. My eyes narrow. He’s as addicted to the damn thing as anyone I know, but something’s off. Bishop ticks off on his fingers. “Outside of the school records and the backlog of forms I gave you the code for, she’s like a ghost. I asked around, but your little lady is only known around here as a charity case for the school district’s economic diversity quota.”
My mouth pulls to the side as we reach the parking lot. I was worried he would say that.
We all immediately hated Blair on sight for not belonging.
She stands out in every way, from her incomplete uniform to her food program lunches. She’s inescapable. I hate that I find her impossible to ignore for the nobody she is.
Ignoring Blair has never been an option for me. Whatever it is about her, it demands my attention like a goddamn moth to flame.
Blair looks at me like we’re on the same level. Dead wrong, little bug. I want to crush her beneath my shoe for her insolence.
If I’m going to put her back in her place, make her understand that she’s never clawing her way out of her position on the lower rungs beneath me, then I need to know what her weaknesses are to press her buttons harder. The more I push her, the closer I get to total control over her.
“If you hear anything, let me know.” We pause beside my car. I unlock it, lean in, and swipe my pack of smokes. I tap one out, sliding the cigarette between my lips. Bishop declines when I offer him one. “Let’s get fucked up tonight.”
Bishop smirks. “You better have your hangover cure ready for me before school then.”
“Fuck that, I’m cutting tomorrow.” My mouth tips up at the corners in a cocky grin. “And my captain better not fault me for it.”
“Fair, fair.” Bishop laughs. The amusement falls away when he checks his phone and gets sucked in again with laser focus. What is up with that? “I’ll, uh…probably cut tomorrow, too.”
Bishop walks off to his ride and I get in my car, dangling my cigarette out the window.
Using my connections and access in the office to orchestrate Blair’s dismissal from the track team wasn’t enough. I’ll crush her, break her beyond repair. She signed a deal with the devil, and when I’m finished with her, she’ll be nothing but the shards of the girl who crossed me.
Blair’s fatal mistake was believing this game could end happily for her. She has my hatred and I’m going to bury her alive with it.
Twelve
Devlin
The lunch period has been one long exercise in precise self control this year.
I lean back against the table on my elbows, turned to face the room. My legs are stretched out, crossed at the ankle. Blair’s across the room, seated at the table by the window.
Just like last year.
With the semester barely underway, I’ve had to hold myself back from snapping several times. Today I’m coming dangerously close to my limit. I need something to burn off this angry energy before it swallows me whole and unleashes my inner monster.
Maybe it’s the lingering hangover from yesterday.
Should’ve stayed home, but giving that sneaky bitch a respite isn’t on the agenda.
I need to punch something. Or smoke. Preferably both.
Aunt Lottie and Uncle Ed will see right through me if I show up to dinner tonight in this mood. They always know when something’s off with me.
I tip my head side to side to crack my neck, but it does nothing to dispel the itch crawling under my skin.
Bishop is here, at least. The rest of the people that flock to us like we’re gods drive me crazy.
Last year it was easier to fake interest in Lucas’ lunch period, but he was like a shining star drawing in admirers, golden and perfect. It was obvious to see why people loved the star quarterback. It’s a shame I’m not like my cousin—too flirtatious, too vulgar, too dirty, too this, too that, too much.