Crown of Thorns by E.M. Snow

13

The next coupledays are hell.

In fact, the only experiences that are worse are when my mom died, when Dad and Jasper abandoned me, and the day of Nina’s seizures.

The first layer of hell is Jasper. Phoenix’s recent revelation that my brother might be a murderer is the stuff that nightmares are made of. Plus, Jasper is the reason I’m in this situation. He had swept back into my life, bringing all his secrets and lies and chaos. He had stolen from the Townsends—not once but twice. And it was Jasper who’d bartered me to a man I’ve never even met in exchange for more time to pay back his debts.

I still don’t know what those debts are. And Jasper’s still yet to respond to me, which is infuriating and painful and mind-blowing.

I also don’t get to see Nina. Our house in South LA was close enough to La Costa Community that I was able to visit her at least every other day. Now that I live in Bel Air with the Townsends, those frequent visits are damn near impossible. No matter how much I call to check in, I feel like it’s not enough. Like I’m betraying her, even though the nurses and staff assure me that she’s fine.

She’s on my mind a lot. When I wake up in the morning. As I toss and turn at night. During school.

Which, of course, leads me to the third layer of hell: Thornwood. Back when we were just Ravenwood, when I was invisible and Phoenix Townsend was nothing but an untouchable legend, I actually enjoyed my classes and took pride in my work and grades. Now, everywhere I go I’m followed by lewd looks and remarks from guys, or cruel taunts from girls like Kallista and Harmony.

Like Margaret.

She hasn’t said anything, but she doesn’t have to. Whenever I see her in the hallways, she takes off in the other direction, usually with one of the girls from the cheer squad. Gia returns to school on Wednesday, but even that’s terrible. At first, I’m almost confident she’ll shun me, too. Instead, she throws her arms around me the moment she sees me in the hallway.

And then, she starts bawling. Big, ugly tears trickle down her face, and I stand frozen, terrified of what she’s about to say.

“Ugh, this week, Joss…” she manages. My heart breaks in two as she presses the heels of her palms to her eyes and takes a few seconds to catch her breath. “Did you get my text last night?”

I hadn’t until this morning. It must have come through after I went to bed, so I didn’t discover it until I came back from my run. Her message was cryptic as hell—I need to talk to you—so I’d called her on speaker while I dressed for school. She didn’t answer, so I assumed the worst. That she was dropping me as a friend, too. It seems to be the theme of this dumpster fire of a week. I just never imagined Margaret would turn against me so fast without at least giving me a chance to explain myself.

Correction: a chance to make up a lie since Phoenix doesn’t want me blabbing that I’m his hostage.

“Look, Gia,” I start on a heavy breath. “What they’re saying isn’t true. I’m not doing anything with—”

“What?” She drops her hands from her face, confusion mingling with the tears swimming in her dark gaze. A second later, her eyes pop wide, and she clears her throat. “Oh. Ohhh. No, it’s not that. I mean, Margaret texted about it, but she’s so weird about that guy that…”

Her words trail off, giving me plenty of time to wonder how many people Margaret’s trash-talked me to. As if on cue, a group of girls shuffle past my locker and one coughs out, “Hoe Worker.”

So creative and original, these rich girls.

Before Gia can comment, I lift a hand and shake my head. “It doesn’t even matter. What matters is what’s wrong with you.” She releases another shuddering breath before the waterworks start again. Biting my bottom lip, I consider her absences the past couple days and swallow hard. “Y-you’re not pregnant, right?”

Relief pours through me when she laughs. That’s good, isn’t it? That she’s laughing. “You’d have to actually have sex for that to happen, Joss.” She leaves me in suspense for a long pause before she says in a tiny voice, “It’s … my dad.”

The tardy bell rings and everyone starts racing to class, but I don’t move an inch as Gia gives me the CliffsNotes version of what’s going on. Her dad was on duty the night of Phoenix’s party, and he’d busted Daria Howard and a few other girls pre-gaming in the dorms before they headed to Bel Air. While Mr. Cohen had made them throw away the alcohol, he hadn’t reported the incident. In Daria’s parents’ minds, if he had reported the girls, she would have never gone to the party or screwed Phoenix or gotten publicly humiliated by Kallista.

Since Daria’s father is a congressman—which is news to me—who preaches wholesome values and abstinence, he’s being slammed in the media.

And now, thanks to Daria’s father, Gia’s dad has lost his job.

“That’s not fair!” I can’t help but hate Phoenix a little more, even though I know he isn’t responsible for some hypocritical politician’s misplaced blame, but still. Every terrible, fucked-up road always leads back to Phoenix somehow. “Is he going to appeal?”

I already know the answer before Gia opens her mouth, but it still hurts like hell. He’s not going to. And with him jobless and potentially moving back to Tacoma, he doesn’t want her to remain at Thornwood.

Meaning I truly am losing another friend.

A teacher passing by breaks up our conversation and barks at us to get to class.

I go through the rest of the day on autopilot, numb and feeling like my chest is clenching. I run directly into Phoenix on the way into Spanish, and he flashes me his customary smirk when our eyes lock.

“You look like you’ve been crying, Luna,” he muses.

I have. Even though I held it together during lunch, I couldn’t stop the tears that fell on the way to my final class of the day. “And you look like a piece of shit who gets off on ruining people,” I mutter, pushing past him.

I barely make it five steps when something snags my feet. I fall. My belongings scatter everywhere. And everyone laughs, a roar that thunders around me and pounds at my eardrums.

“It doesn’t have quite the same sound effect as it would’ve a few years ago, but it does the trick,” a voice taunts, and every inch of my body is on fire as I blink up at Harmony. This is the same girl who would have flunked chemistry last year if I hadn’t been her partner. Sitting at her desk with her hands clasped primly together and her golden mane of wavy hair falling over one shoulder, she’s obviously forgotten all that now.

“I…” I start, but my voice shakes. I puff out a breath before I continue. “Why would you—”

“Did I tell you to do that?” Phoenix’s cold voice abruptly cuts in, and I slant a shocked look from Harmony to him. He’s standing above me, his spine rigid and his jaw set in an angry line as he glares down at Harmony. From down here, he looks impossibly taller and more terrifying.

“It’s a shame you don’t put as much effort into…” he pauses for effect, casting a look around at our classmates who’ve all grown silent. His lips quirk, but his smile doesn’t fool me. Fury still rolls off his broad shoulders in waves. “Well, I’m sure half the motherfuckers in this class know what I’m talking about.”

That draws several chuckles.

Harmony stutters through an apology, but he waves it off with a flick of his wrist. He takes his insult to her a step further by extending his hand toward me.

I just gape at it. Why is he helping me? Isn’t this what he wants?

“Get up, Luna,” he grinds out, his hand jerking slightly.

I swallow hard and nod, reaching out to gather my belongings. I hear Phoenix suck in a sharp breath, and I glance back to find the boy I saw him arguing with last week—Easton Madigan—bent over, mere inches from my legs. He grabs my notebook from the floor, lets his eyes linger on my exposed thighs for a few beats, then gives me a half-smile as he passes me my book.

Ignoring Phoenix’s outstretched fingers, I scramble to my feet, wiping the dust off my ass. “Thanks,” I breathe.

Phoenix makes a noise deep in the back of his throat, but Easton just grins. “You should—” he begins, but Mrs. De León enters the class and starts clapping for everyone to sit down and focus.

On the way to our seats, Phoenix’s breath heats the shell of my ear. My core tightens in response. “What?” I whisper.

“I bet you liked that shit, didn’t you, Luna?” he husks, and I shiver at the vibration of his mouth against my skin.

I pick up my pace, putting more space between us and slam into my desk. He pauses next to me, his dark brows raised. “Why wouldn’t I like getting assaulted by your many conquests?” I snark because I doubt that he’ll leave me alone until I respond with something.

His full lips curl, but he doesn’t answer me right away. He waits until we’re in the middle of a pop quiz, to lean forward. “We both know I’m not talking about Harmony. She’s irrelevant, Luna, and only wants attention. If it’s male attention you want, all you have to do is say the word.”

“Señor Townsend,” Mrs. De León warns, and I hear him chuckle behind me.

The sarcasm rolls off him in waves when he responds, “Lo siento, Señora De León.”

Anyone else and she would kick him out for cheating.

Anyone else, and I might be able to concentrate on my work. Instead, I probably flunk my quiz because I spend all my time wondering what he would have said next.

I don’t get a chance to ask him.

As soon as the final bell rings, he snaps, “Ride home with Gideon, I have conditioning,” and storms from the classroom behind Easton.