Broken Pretty Things by Amber Faye
Chapter 15
It’s almostthe end of the day and I haven’t had to deal with any of them. I’m starting to feel like this could be OK. I’ll see them a few times a week, in class and around the building, but otherwise, it’s a big school.
The last class of the day is an AP Calculus class I feel wholly unprepared for, but without anyone I like around me, distracting me, I concentrate and actually feel like I understand the material by the time she’s done explaining it.
A short kid with bright orange hair, I think his name is Emile, leans over to me a few minutes into an exercise and says, “Hey, you OK? Someone said you were covered in blood yesterday?”
I give him a look. “For real?” I whisper back. He frowns and nods. “No, it was fake blood.”
He rolls his eyes. “That makes sense.” Uhh, does it? “Gunnar?”
He says the name with venom and I raise my eyebrows. “Well, actually, yeah.” I look around. Everyone else has their head down, trying to get the exercise done. “Why?”
“Everyone’s been talking about how he’s gonna run you out of town.” He says the last part in an old-fashioned cowboy accent and it makes me snort. He rolls his eyes again. “He’s a fucking asshole. Don’t worry too much about it. I mean … I know that’s easier said.”
I’m genuinely really surprised. I look around again. I am half expecting another bucket of something to get dumped over my head. This day has been too uneventful for sure. My hand goes up to the gum still tangled in the bottom inch of my hair.
“Uhh, I’m Emile,” he adds, and awkwardly sticks out his hand. Even more awkwardly, I shake it. It’s kind of clammy.
“Andie …”
“I know. Obviously. Listen, I want to talk to you about something. I know this is really weird … I promise this isn’t a line. Can I get your number?” His gaze flicks around the room, his whisper dropping even lower.
This has to be some kind of setup. But I have no reason to believe this kid is lying, and maybe I’m just feeling good from my nice conversation with Hero. I pass him a note with my number. It’s not like all my friends don’t have it anyway.
It’s day two and I’m already this paranoid.
“Thanks,” he says, and shoves it in his pocket. The bell rings. I survived another day! I practically bolt out of my seat, sling my bag over my shoulder, and head out the door in the throng of students.
Once out the door, my phone buzzes. I check the notification.
Emile: It might be better if you delete this conversation as soon as you get it. Idk. But I overheard you outside Rayne’s office. You said you didn’t think Cole did what he did (sry to bring that up, I know that’s not fun) and I’ve been thinking about it all night… My dad was telling me after the funeral that he was really suspicious about Gunnar’s
A hand flies out of nowhere and slaps the phone out of my hand and down the concrete steps. I freeze and look up to see I have walked into a large, tight circle made up of high school students. Gripping their backpacks, gawking, giggling. All looking right at me. I lunge for my phone on the ground but Aurelia steps into the center and kicks it away. Then faces me, hands on hips. A dark smile is on her beautiful face.
I gesture around at the circle. “You want to fight?” I ask her, trying to sound casual. A fight isn’t her kind of thing, but I have no idea what else could be happening here.
Plus, with anger and adrenaline coursing through me so suddenly that I almost feel dizzy, I kind of think I could take her.
It might even feel kind of good.
“Mm, would you like that? It would sure make a change from your usual MO.”
What the hell is she talking about?
Somewhere in the circle, I catch Gunnar’s eye. He tears his gaze away, his face fixed in something close to fury.
“Yeah, wrestle!” some kid cries, and others hoot and cheer. Aurelia tosses a look around and smiles, basking in it all for a second.
“I just wanted you to consider this your final warning,” she says, batting her lashes. “Convince your mom to move you back across the country, or”—she lifts her foot and stabs her stiletto heel into my phone screen, splitting the existing crack into something deep and vibrantly pixelated—“oops! We’ll get pretty clumsy with other stuff, too.”
“I needed a new phone anyway,” I say. “Why don’t you go ahead and talk to my mom yourself? You know I hate being a middle man.” I head to the edge of the circle, throwing Gunnar another look. I can see him physically fight not to meet it, and I roll my eyes. He is an asshole. He seriously won’t lift a finger himself in case it gets dirty? He’s the one that wants me to leave.
I can’t believe Emile is right, and I was so wrong. How many other people in this school thought we were all assholes this whole time?
“Who you rushing off to fuck tonight, Andie?” Aurelia asks. “That little black notebook you carry around is filled with names. I saw it.” People start to laugh, and I grit my teeth. Names of people who were at the Palace when Cole went missing for those few hours. She saw that? “They your clients?”
“Yep,” I say. “Sucks, because you’re the reason all the men in town need condoms now.” The crowd laughs a little harder. A rumor went around last year that Aurelia gave chlamydia to some guy on the football team. A rumor we all worked overtime to quell. “It’s also a lot harder to charge money when you keep doing it for free, Aurelia,” I add. More laughter. I absolutely hate slut-shaming, but it’s the surest way to get this crowd on my side, just in case this gets much worse. “Excuse me,” I say to some people in the tightly-packed circle, winding my hand through the air.
I feel a hand yank on my backpack strap and I windmill my arms, catching myself. But then a foot catches my ankle and I land hard on my ass. Dimitri’s face hovers above me, catching his tongue in between his teeth and grinning at me. If I never have to see that stupid damn face again it’ll—
Aurelia is pulling my backpack off, and I use her strength to help me back to my feet again. Frustrated, she yanks harder to get it out of my hands. “You already burned my books and smashed my phone, moron,” I say, pulling it back. It looks like I’m a little stronger than her, because she stumbles easily forward. “What else is there for you to get at?”
“Oh, believe me.” A prickle creeps up my neck at Gunnar’s voice behind me. “There is so, so much more.”
Before I can stop it, I feel tears fill my eyes. Why him? I could deal with this from anyone else. Really. Anyone. I yank on my backpack strap again. When Aurelia doesn’t let go, I reach out and grab a fistful of her hair and pull on that instead. She screams, “Ow! Psycho!” But I have my backpack again.
I snatch my broken phone off the ground. As I elbow my way through the crowd, I hear the smacking noise of a sloppy kiss. I look over my shoulder just in time to see Gunnar softly stroking Aurelia’s hair, soothing where I hurt her. Relishing the comfort, Aurelia smiles up at him. “Babe … did you see she fucking cried the second you spoke?”
I really wish she hadn’t noticed that. Gunnar is my weakness. He always has been.