My eyes nearly bugged out of my head. “You can’t mean that. We’re in this together.”
His sorrow cascaded off him in waves that slammed against me, an unending barrage on my heart.
He handed my journal back to me, the words on the page mocking me, reminding me of just how far I had fallen. He turned to go and said over his shoulder, “Not anymore. You’re on your own.”
CHAPTER 36
WHEN THE BELL RANG at the end of Lit class, I automatically stood to meet Gideon. His parting words came barreling at me like a punch to the gut and I sat back down. There was no one waiting for me.
Chase came over from the other side of the room, ready with a smile. “Hey.”
That smile disarmed me completely. “Hi.”
My capacity to feel so many conflicting emotions at once was maddening. How could I be angry at the Red Court for Gigi, heartbroken over Gideon, and ridiculous about Chase all at once? I struggled to gain control over myself, but my body was fighting against me, flashing hot and cold.
“Are you headed to meet Gideon? Maybe we could all grab coffee.”
“No, not today.” I busied myself with my bag to hide how upset I was.
Honestly, I had no clue what Gideon would be doing. Maybe he was running to Damien to tell him all about our argument. I didn’t even know if it qualified as an argument. It felt more like the breakup he’d joked about so long ago.
“Ok, do you want to come hang out on the double H’s with me? I normally have some friends over there.”
There was a lounge at one end of the school with benches shaped like two capital H’s for Heller High. It was notoriously frequented by the upper echelon of popular kids, not a place I ever dreamed I’d be invited to. Or one I really desired to go to, either.
“Maybe the library?” I suggested. “I have a ton of work to do.”
He smiled even wider. “Of course you do. No rest for the wicked, right?”
If you only knew.
* * *
As I made my way to the track after school, I finally found Gigi leaving the main office. I pushed my way past a group of boys, murmuring apologies as I went.
“Gigi!” I called.
She turned, and her mouth lifted in a thin copy of her normal smile. “Hi.”
I was not what people would call a “hugger,” but Gigi’s swollen eyes broke something in me and I pulled her into a hug. “I’m so, so sorry.”
“It’s ok.” She pulled back, looking down as she blinked away tears. “Well, no, it’s not. I don’t know why I said that.”
“Because you’re tough and being ok is probably a reflex.” I put force into the words, trying to get Gigi to believe them. She would get through this. She had to.
“I’m just glad the school is letting me take some time away until everything calms down. Not that I’m allowed to take time off classes. I’ll just be completing assignments from home for a little while.”
“How generous of our Hell High overlords.”
Gigi snorted and wiped away a tear. She looked back up at me, resolve flashing in her eyes. “I wasn’t surprised, you know? I feel like I should tell someone that. About my mom, I mean. I wasn’t surprised.”
“What?”
Granted, I wasn’t her child, but the revelation that Mrs. Martin was having an affair shocked the hell out of me.
“Things between my parents aren’t that great. Really haven’t been for a while. I’ve kind of gotten used to it, I guess. That’s why I was so happy to be on the debate team.” Her burst of emotion faded and she was left hollow-eyed, devoid of the spark that made her Gigi.
I understood what she meant. I hadn’t been able to help April, and I had felt helpless until I harnessed my anger and shaped it into a plan for revenge. “Having something to focus on can help. What will you do now if you’re taking some time off?”
Gigi shrugged. “My aunt and uncle live close by. I’ll probably stay with them and lie low.”
“And your mom?” I couldn’t help but ask. Did the Red Court succeed in getting her fired? If not, would Haley and I have to do something worse?
“She’s resigning right now. I’m going to wait in the car until she’s done packing up. Some friend, huh?”
I blanched. Was she talking about me? “Excuse me?”
“A Friend. That’s who sent the email out.”
I weighed my question, examining it from all sides, before asking, “Do you know who did it?”
“It could have been anyone. There are a lot of kids who would like to stick it to a teacher or counselor. But who did it doesn’t matter. Not to me.”
“How could it not? Aren’t you angry with the people—or person—who did this?”
I was part of the group that did it and I was livid.
“I’m mad at my mom. I’m so mad.” Her voice broke, and she swallowed hard. “I don’t think I can be anything else on top of that.”
My heart shattered watching Gigi shake with the force of her anger. The Red Court destroyed Mrs. Martin’s career, her family, and Gigi’s relationship with her mom.
Gigi shifted her bag on her back, pulling herself together. “I better get going. Bye, Ember.”
I lifted a hand in a weak wave. “Bye.”
I didn’t move as Gigi, head down and dark hair shielding her face, marched out to the parking lot. Haley had questioned if Mrs. Martin was innocent and she wasn’t. But Gigi was. So was Alec’s fiancée and that girl from the hallway whose boyfriend was cheating on her. It didn’t matter if we only took down people who deserved it. Everyone had someone who loved them who would suffer because of the pain the Red Court caused.
It was—we were—toxic. I could almost hear Haley’s argument. The Red Court was only an instrument in the orchestra of lies and misery. The kids were the ones conducting the symphony, but how many of them lashed out in a moment of despair and used the tools we provided to turn their pain into action? Probably a lot of them. Just like Matthew.
It was true that some of our requests, like Reece’s for Maura, were born out of something other than anger. But they shared a commonality with the calls for hits or grade fixing—desperation. Everyone was desperate for something, and we were the ones enabling them, feeding that need.
When you gave people a shortcut, they’d take it. I was that shortcut. And everyone else in the Red Court was using it for their own ends—whether it was the favor Haley needed or the chance to be part of something that Gretchen was desperate for. Until this moment, I hadn’t thought of the work that way. The kids at school were using and being used in a vicious cycle that would only stop if I stopped it.