“Come on,” I say over my shoulder, not waiting for her before I start making my way back across the hidden bridge and onto campus.
I can hear her short breaths behind me as she follows, but I don’t pay any attention to her. I don’t know who is out there, who could be watching. I shouldn’t be giving Brock any more ammunition against me, but God, when I saw her face, I had to make it better.
As we walk out of the woods, the guys are waiting. They look bored, but I can tell by their posture that they are angry. Trixie hangs off to the side but rushes to Landry when she comes off the bridge behind me.
“Saving the damsel in distress?” Bodhi asks as soon as we get near.
I level him with a glare. “She grabbed me, took me over,” I say, gritting my teeth, and fortunately, Landry is far enough behind me that she couldn’t hear what I said.
“Maybe, next time, you shouldn’t stand so close to the siren; they like to drag their prey underwater,” Brock says lazily, throwing me a shirt.
I unfold it, recognizing it as the hoodie that Trixie grabbed for Landry. Brock watches me look at it. I pull my shirt over my head, using the hoodie as a towel, sopping up the water droplets trailing down my abdomen before I throw it in the dirt at my feet, not looking back as I walk forward with the guys.
Landry can get back to the dorm from here with Trixie.
“They are getting braver,” I say, lounging on my bed in our shared dorm after I found some dry clothes to put on.
We kicked our RA out of his large end-of-the-hall bedroom and took over, the three of us staying together.
“Who is, dipshit?” Bodhi throws a grape up in the air, catching it between his teeth, and then lowers his head to grin at us.
“The fuckin’ mob. Who do you think? The girls at Almadale think they can approach us now.” I twirl a pen through my fingers as I talk. “I think we have become a little too understanding, laid-back even.”
Brock sits up, clapping his hands together and rubbing them. “I think you are right, C. I’ve got a plan.”
“Already?” I raise my eyebrows at him, and my stomach sinks. This can’t be good. I know I suggested it, but it was more to get the heat off of me. I didn’t think they would latch onto the comment with such enthusiasm. I should’ve known though. What else do bored rich kids have to do?
“Oh yeah,” he says, smiling. A sight I don’t normally see on Brock’s face. I’m instantly on edge. “But for now, get some sleep. We’ve got a long weekend ahead of us.” He winks and leans over, flipping the light off and bathing us in darkness.
“Hey, fucker, I’m still eating,” Bodhi says, turning the light back on.
I groan, turning over to face the wall, pulling the cover up and blocking the light. I hate the moments right before you fall asleep, when your mind wants to bring things up you’ve forgotten about. It’s the time I usually spend worrying over Abe and plotting out my future, how I’m going to go about getting custody of him. Brock and Bodhi have my back, I know that, but I hate relying on others. I want to do this my way and with my money. Money I don’t have.
But tonight, my thoughts aren’t of Abe. It’s Landry’s face, right before we went over the edge. The sheer terror on it and the way it made my stomach clench. The reason I acted like an idiot and had to lie to my boys. The reason I feel like my carefully crafted life could fall apart.
I can’t get close to her. I can’t allow her to drive a wedge between the three of us, even unknowingly. I can’t have her.
“Listen up, fuckers,” Brock says Monday morning.
I’m sitting in the back row of the auditorium. Orientation is starting, and since the twins and I are seniors, we aren’t listening to a word of it. It’s all for show anyway. We do what we want, when we want. The name Montgomery is top tier around here. Everyone knows who pays the bills, so we benefit from it.
“Orientation is boring as shit. So, I created a little excitement.” He smiles like the Joker, and I notice Bodhi mimics it.
Sometimes, seeing the same expression on their faces creeps me out.
“Welcome, students, to a new year at Almadale Preparatory Academy.” Principal Meriwether’s voice rings out over the microphone, and the room goes silent. “We are happy to be back for another school year. You should have received your manual. I want each one of you to read it. There were some issues last year that we won’t rehash, but I expect full cooperation this year and for you to focus on your studies, not on playing games.” His gaze peruses the students seated until they reach the back row, stopping on us as we grin.
He continues to drone on about teamwork and classes as I lean over to Bodhi. “What’s the plan?”
“Don’t worry, C. I’ve got it covered.” Brock leans his head back against the wall. His manual slides from his leg and hits the floor. He doesn’t bother to pick it up.
“As we do every year, I’m going to invite the freshman class and any newcomers onstage, and they will recite our founding pledge. Look on page one of your manual.”
The auditorium is filled with sounds of mumbles and shuffling. I watch as the first few rows of students filter up, and one lone figure marches from the middle, merging with them. Almadale is exclusive. For that reason, we don’t have many transfers during the school year. You generally start as a freshman. So, watching Landry file onstage with the beginning class is like her holding a sign saying how out of place she is.
Brock types something on his phone while the students onstage are reciting. My eyes are focused on Landry and her damn uniform. It looks like it wasn’t made for her, and then I remember what Trixie said—that Landry’s were taken. She must have borrowed one. She looks like she’s about to bust out of it, and she stands with her hands awkwardly crossed in front of her.
Just as they finish the last sentence of the pledge, the overhead projector comes rolling out of the ceiling. Students and faculty watch in interest. This is not usually part of orientation. Principal Meriwether reaches up to run a finger around his collar, pulling his tie out a little as he glances up at the sound station above us. I can imagine them shrugging, not knowing what is going on.
This has the kings written all over it. But normally, we do this together. Brock going rogue doesn’t sit well with me. I glance at Bodhi, and he’s frowning, so Brock must not have told him either.
The PA system screeches before a voice sounds over the loudspeaker. It’s breathy and comes out as a whisper. I watch as Landry’s head shoots up, her face going white, and her eyes dart around the room. The screen above her is black, but you can tell it’s a video. Little specks of light flash around as the camera moves. Then, in the dim light, the screen shows a face, a girl with her head thrown back and a hand in her hair. Noises bring the scene to life, skin meeting skin with moans. The girl moves, looking at the camera, and her eyes widen. It’s Landry, and her face goes dark.
“What the fuck, Jake?” she says on the audio.
The guy behind the camera laughs. She reaches up to knock the camera from his hands, and the screen goes dark again.
“Are you recording us?”
We can hear her yell, and then the screen goes dead. The words Welcome to Almadale flash up next.