My heart hammers a mile a minute as pain—thick and cloying pain—cascades through me. I thought seeing Karsyn would be like eating a bad taco. You feel nauseous for a second, but then get over it. Instead, it’s as if every bandage I painstakingly applied to myself has been ripped from my skin. The once scabbed over wounds are now open and bleeding, visible for the world to see.
Fuck!
I press my head against the wall to control my eccentric breathing before willing myself to relax.
I didn’t even see his face, and already, it feels as if my world is shattering around me.
Why did I think that this would be easy?
Life, I have come to realize, is never easy. It’s a fucking landmine, and one wrong move can send everything into flames.
Hands shaking, I remove my notepad from the side of my backpack. It’s spelled so no one will be able to read my words unless I let them.
Next to Karsyn’s name, I write, In weight room, 7:23 AM. With Mariabella.
The next name on the list is Cassian Jereome.
Where, oh where, will I find my little musician at this hour of the day?
Without preamble, I head in the opposite direction of the gym, towards the auditorium. According to my research, the builders added several practice spaces adjacent to the band room. The first two I find are empty, but the third…
I wasn’t able to get a good look at Karsyn, but I am able to see Cassian Jereome. His dark skin glints in the radiant LED lights up above, his eyes closed in pleasure. A guitar droops from his fingers as a girl kneels between his legs, sucking his cock. He moans slightly, tightening his fingers in the girl’s rich red hair. I know I should look away. I want to, but I can’t prevent my eyes from tracing every contour of his devilishly beautiful face, similar to the person I once knew and despised, yet so, so different. Older. Handsomer. No longer a boy, but a man.
When the girl releases his cock and begins to lick it like a lollipop, I can’t help but note how large it is. I’m not even sure my entire hand will fit around it.
You know, for the sole purpose of pulling it off and tossing it to feral dogs.
According to my research, Cassian doesn’t have a girlfriend, so this must be one of his groupies. While he’s not well-known throughout the world or even the United States, he’s a household name in this area. Half the population believes he’s going to be the next big thing—bigger than even Queen or the Beatles.
Cue gagging noises.
Struck with inspiration, I remove my phone from where I had stashed it inside my bra and begin recording the two of them. You never know when you’ll need leverage to destroy a person’s life.
Almost as if he can sense me, his eyes begin to open…
But I’m already running out of the room, the door shutting on silent hinges.
Returning to my trusty little notebook, I write, Cassian in music practice rooms before class. Getting BJ. Big cock. With a frown, I quickly erase the last two words.
I hate the asshole, but even I can appreciate a damn good penis.
Lips pursed, I stare intently at the third name on the list. Elias Briggs. I don’t even bother searching for him. The school records show that he skips school every Monday, and even some Tuesdays, Wednesdays, Thursdays, and Fridays. And if he doesn’t skip, he doesn’t bother to show up until well after fourth period, AP Lit. Which, conveniently, happens to be my class as well. What are the odds?
Instead, I focus on the fourth name. The final name. Rage crawls up my spine like a set of fire ants have been set free.
Lucas Scott.
Glancing at the clock, I see it’s approximately seven-forty. At this time, he should be in the cafeteria with his faithful followers, right after the morning session of student senate ended. Elections for class positions took place at the end of last year, and lo and behold, Lucas Scott managed to snag the presidency. Shocker.
He’s exactly where I expect him to be—sitting beside a gaggle of girls and guys, a beatific smile on his handsome face.
His red hair is artfully styled away from his aristocratic face, making him appear even more heart-wrenchingly beautiful. His sea-blue eyes, flecked with gold, are vibrant with laughter. As always, he wears a pressed sweater and skin-tight jeans that conform to his delectable body. And by the smirk on his face, he knows how good he looks and revels in the attention.
Four kings.
Four wicked men.
Four charming devils.
And one witch.
“Let the games begin, boys,” I whisper. And this time around? I’m actually gonna win.
Or die trying.
Chapter 3
My first class of the day is Biology with Ms. Auperlee.
She’s a younger teacher with her soul still intact; these leeches haven’t sucked it out of her yet. When I enter the classroom, she flashes me a genuine smile, one that reaches her washed-out gray eyes. I’m sure they’re a shade of blue, but with the fluorescent lighting overhead, it’s almost impossible to discern for sure.
“You must be our new student,” she gushes in a saccharine sweet voice. “I’m Ms. Auperlee. We’re starting a new chapter today, so I don’t think you have anything you really need to catch up on. The first chapter is merely standard lab safety, which I can email you a PowerPoint of. You can take a seat anywhere.” She gesticulates wildly towards the various empty desks.
The old me would’ve been terrified of accidentally sitting in someone’s seat, but the new me doesn’t really give a damn. I’m no longer the coward that will hide behind my own shadow.
With an imperious set to my chin, like a queen looking down on her subjects, I move towards an empty seat near the back of the classroom.
Directly beside Mariabella Stevens.
This close, she’s even more beautiful. Almost ethereal. It’s no surprise that Karsyn would date someone like her, someone who seems to physically radiate vibrant light. Her blonde hair has been freshly washed after this morning’s workout, hanging in silky, loose curls around her shoulders. She wears a pink sweater that slides off of one shoulder, revealing her porcelain skin. Cognac brown eyes peer back at me beneath a fleet of sooty, ridiculously dark lashes.
I expect to see derision in her gaze, maybe even annoyance at my blatant ogling, but instead, she straightens almost imperceptibly in her seat and smiles at me. It’s a…warm smile, one that emanates sincerity. It somehow demotes her from intimidating to approachable.
At the same time, I can’t help but wonder why someone like her would date someone like Karsyn Alder.
Gag.
“Hi!” Her voice is slightly higher pitched than even Ms. Auperlee’s, but it doesn’t bother me. There’s almost a musical quality to it that I can’t help but find endearing. “You must be new. I’m Mariabella.”
“Peony,” I greet with a timid nod. I have the irresistible urge to bite down on my lower lip and fidget, almost like I’m back in middle school again. But fuck, I’m not that forlorn child anymore. I’m a badass fucking witch, and I don’t fidget.
But a part of me, a part that I don’t think will ever diminish completely, expects her to pour her coffee over my head and then laugh at me like it’s my fault.
“Why don’t you do the world a favor and drop dead?” Cassian’s voice curled around me like an iron vise, gradually tightening until I was clawing at my throat, desperate for air.