I sat through classes, said the bare minimum to my friends, listened to the announcement from the principal assuring us we were all safe and the culprits of this “prank” would be caught. But I didn’t really pay attention to any of it. I spent the entire time going over everything in my head. Every interaction between Hendrix and me, every word, every touch, every loaded look.
I made myself recount all the horrible, vicious things I’d said and done to him. And in the end, it wasn’t me who had broken him. In the end, I’d wanted to do the very opposite, but his downfall was my fault anyway.
I was failing in every single area of my life, barely holding it together on a good day, but this . . . this was the worst thing I’d ever done.
I wanted it all to just . . . stop.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Hendrix
The glow of the TV was the only light in the room as I slumped on the couch, controller between my hands. I was half-heartedly playing with randoms on the internet when someone knocked on the door.
I didn’t even glance up. It was probably Robbie, although he usually just let himself in. Aunt Hannah had gone to bed not even half an hour ago.
I’d called her right after my run-in with Donna, completely lost, and she’d left work and come right down to the school. She marched me up to the office and flipped her shit, demanding to know how this had happened, why none of the staff had noticed before the students arrived, what the fuck they were paying their security staff for.
The headmistress calmly answered all her questions while I sat in a chair, scowling at the edge of her desk. Apparently, most of the teachers and admin staff entered the school through a side door that led directly to their offices. The security guard who opened the student entrance in the mornings hadn’t bothered to peek inside before walking to his post by the front gates. One of the janitors hadn’t shown up to work that morning, and they were still investigating.
She’d probably paid him off, and in a way that he wouldn’t even know who he was dealing with. I had to give her that—she was damn smart.
The knock came again, more insistent this time, and then indiscernible voices, hisses—someone arguing.
I rolled my eyes and focused back on the screen. I didn’t want to deal with people, didn’t even want to think right now. It was probably some kids from my school, here to play some prank, or maybe even their incensed parents come to threaten my aunt. The calls from worried, outraged parents had started pouring in as soon as we left campus. People didn’t want their kids anywhere near me.
When we got home, I told my aunt everything that had happened between me and Donna over the last few days, leaving out the graphic sexual details. I blamed myself—I’d gotten myself into this mess by not leaving her alone, and I deserved those posters, really. I deserved their fear and contempt and disgust. I deserved their rejection for what I’d done. But I couldn’t fight the disappointment, the hurt. I guess I was still human after all.
My aunt listened to it all and, in the end, said she was proud of me. Proud of me. For doing what I thought was right. She assured me Fulton wouldn’t be able to kick me out, despite how loudly the other parents complained. I was getting good grades, and I’d completely stayed out of trouble. I was a victim in this situation.
That didn’t sit well with me. I didn’t feel like a victim—I felt like the monster they all now knew I was. But I appreciated her unflinching support anyway.
The knock came again, even louder. I gritted my teeth and glanced toward the stairs. They’d wake my aunt up if they hadn’t already. The thought that it could be someone here to harass her was the only reason I tossed the controller down and stormed to the door.
“Get off my property or I’m calling the police.” I put a little grunt into my voice, making it firm, threatening, but not too loud—I didn’t want to disturb my aunt.
There was a second of perfect stillness and then: “Hendrix, we need to talk to you.” The voice was feminine, but it wasn’t Donna, and she didn’t sound angry. I frowned, wishing the side panel by the door wasn’t frosted.
When I didn’t respond, another female voice, this one much more demanding, said with a single thump against the wood, “Open the damn door.” Amaya. It was definitely her, and that first, uncertain one had been Harlow.
I shook my head and turned to leave. Maybe I would call the police.
There was more arguing behind the door, hushed words. Was Donna with them? Standing there with a smirk while they manipulated me into . . . into . . . shit, I didn’t even know what else she could possibly do to me.
“We don’t have time for this.” Mena cut across the others, surprising me with the seriousness in her voice. “Hendrix, please open the door.”
I sighed, already regretting the decision, but because it was Mena—the only one of them with some goodness in her soul—I turned back around and wrenched the door open.
It was just the three of them.
“What the hell do you want? Here to do your overlord’s bidding?” I set my feet wide apart, blocking the door.
“We’ve been trying to call you. Why didn’t you answer?” Amaya frowned. Always on the attack.
I hadn’t looked at my phone since I got home. It was probably still on my bed, where I’d dumped everything before changing into sweats. “Why would I want to talk to you? And how the hell do you know where I live?”
“It’s in the school records.” Harlow waved that away as if it were no big deal they had access to the school records. “We can’t find Donna, and we’re starting to get worried. We wanted to check with everyone she could be with before telling our parents or the police. Have you seen her?”
I ignored the pang of worry that made the back of my head tingle. She didn’t deserve it. Not anymore. “I haven’t seen that bitch since this morning, and I don’t give a flying fu—”
“She didn’t do it.” Mena stepped forward and gripped my arm, looking up at me with those doe eyes. I could see why Turner was so protective of her—she looked like the perfect meal for a wolf. “Donna didn’t put those posters up. She didn’t know anything about it. It was William Frydenberg.”
“What?” I frowned. They had to be lying. But why? What game were they playing now?
“It’s true. She confronted him about it, and they got into a fight. She slapped him. And Drew confirmed it when Amaya asked him. It was Will. Donna didn’t know anything about it, I swear. We would know if she’d planned something like this. I would’ve talked her out of it.”
“She’s been acting weird all day,” Amaya cut in before I could argue, slam the door in their faces. “She was really detached, hardly talked to anyone, just kind of went through the motions.”
Harlow was on the verge of tears. “When we got home after school, she just shut herself in her room. She didn’t even come down for dinner. When Mom went to check on her, she said she was sick, but when I went to her room after everyone was in bed, she was gone. Her car is gone, and she’s not picking up the phone. Please, Hendrix, do you know where she might be?”
“Why do you think I’d know anything?” I was still a little wary, but the implications were slowly sinking in, making my shoulders tense. Mena wasn’t one to lie, and I couldn’t deny the fear in Harlow’s eyes. Even Amaya—who I’d never seen bothered by anything—looked worried.