Tormented Royal by Lily Wildhart

Chapter Thirteen

Iwake up bleary-eyed, dreading the day. I shut my phone off almost as soon as I turned it back on last night. I couldn’t bring myself to look at it, so Indi and I hid in my room, binging reruns of Gossip Girl, trying to convince myself that it could be worse.

My lawyers called to advise that lawsuits had been drawn up against the publications who said they were going to run the story, which should stop it from ending up on the actual news, but that doesn’t mean it hasn’t already gone viral.

I cover my face with a pillow and scream into it. I want nothing more than to roll over and go back to sleep, to ignore the world for a week, a month, hell, even a year. But I’m not letting these assholes fuck with my GPA, and missing any school means getting even further behind than I already am. Needless to say, I did not get my study date last night.

Fuck this shit. They don’t get to win. Not now, not ever. I’m not the type to tuck tail and run.

They can go fuck themselves up the ass with no lube.

I’ll face the day the way my dad always rode out a storm. By looking and feeling fucking fierce. I mean, he didn’t tend to do it sober, but that’s not exactly an option for me—I don’t have that choice. If I did… well, fuck being sober.

I kick off my blankets and stomp into the shower. Today, I’m going to look like a bomb-ass bitch because I need the armor. It’s the only way I’m going to either stay out of jail or not break down to a puddle of nothingness.

I turn my phone on, flicking quickly over to airplane mode before linking it up to the sound system, and blast “Queen” byLoren Gray. There’s nothing like music to help reset your mindset. I put it on repeat because this song is absolutely fucking life right now. It’s like they wrote it just for me.

I take my time scrubbing, shaving, and preening every inch of my fucking body till I almost shine. I let the music wash over me, sinking into my pores to help build up the mental walls I need for today. This is the one part of being my father’s daughter that I hate. The paparazzi, the media storms, the inability to have much privacy at all. If I was anyone else, this wouldn’t be a potential national news story.

There have already been some paps here, but this… This will reveal to everyone where I am, which only makes Echoes Cove have the potential to become even more of a nightmare for me than it’s been already. I wish my dad had thought through the stipulations of his will. Why would he make me come back here?

When we left here, we never looked back. Or, at least, I didn’t think so. I guess since Dad kept Smithy on, he had more intention of coming back here than I ever realized.

I lose myself in the monotony of getting myself ready for the day. Once I’ve picked out the most badass underwear I have, I sit down to do my hair and makeup. I pay special attention as I blow my hair out, letting it cascade down my back in dark, shiny waves. I finish the look with thick winged liner and a lipstick called Bitchcraft. It’s a deep purple and makes my eyes pop in contrast.

It’s not lost on me that I have to practice my smile in the mirror to make sure it’s somewhat convincing today. But if this is what I have to do to show them that they won’t break me, then this is what I’ll do. I just wish I knew why.

What did I do to inspire such venom from the people who I was once closest to in the world?

I shake off the thought. Focusing on that shit isn’t going to help me today.

Today, I need to keep my head high and rise above.

Fuck being a princess, today I’m going to be a goddamn queen.

I finish dressing by slipping my feet into a pair of black Louboutins to complete the look. I check out my reflection in the full-length mirror in the closet and feel almost prepared to face the day. After grabbing my bag, I head downstairs to find Smithy in the kitchen making pancakes.

My stomach revolts at the thought of even trying to eat anything. I take a deep breath as my mouth fills with acid. There is no way I’m going to vomit right now. No fucking way. “Smithy, I adore you, but I can’t eat.”

He startles a little as I put my bag on the stool and head to the coffee machine. The sweet nectar of the gods is going to be absolutely necessary today. I can feel it already. “Oh, Miss Octavia, you really should eat.”

“And you should really call me V. Or at the very least, Octavia,” I tease.

He scoffs at me, waving the spatula in my direction, looking highly offended. I’d worry if he wasn’t smiling with his eyes. “That, Miss Octavia, is never going to happen. Now, please sit and try to eat something. There were some developments overnight. I’ve already called Miss Indi. She won’t be able to get you this morning thanks to the vultures camped at the gates.”

My stomach drops at his words, and I drop onto the closest stool with a heavy sigh. Why is this my life? “Well, I guess school really is out of the question today then.”

He frowns at me and shakes his head, piquing my interest at what he could possibly have up his sleeve this early in the day. “I’ve already been on the phone with the school this morning. They’ve put more security measures in place. It’s not the first time they’ve needed to keep the media away. They are also aware that if we find out someone at the school created and leaked that video, we will be pressing charges, and including the school in the lawsuit if any of their equipment was used.”

“Thank you, Smithy.” Relief floods my system at not having to face school with people trying to take my picture all day. I mean, they will definitely try, but if there’s extra security in place, it’s unlikely any will be too successful.

He moves behind me to the refrigerator and pours a glass of juice before placing it in front of me. He pats my shoulder before saying, “Drink your juice, Miss Octavia. Only having coffee won’t be a good start to the day.”

I pick the juice up and take a sip as he raises an eyebrow, watching me to make sure I actually drink it before he moves back to the stove. He plates up a few pancakes for me, topping them with blueberries and whipped cream, before sliding it in front of me. “Now then, I’ve also arranged for you to ride into school with Master Saint. You can use the gate between the yards so that you don’t have to go out the front. Then they won’t know for some time that you’ve left.”

Relief floods my body at the thought of not having to go out the front of this house. The thought of facing it all before I even really start my day is enough to make me want to crawl back into bed. Bad bitch persona or not. “You’re the best, Smithy.”

“Just doing what I can, Miss Octavia.” I jump up and hug him tight. It takes him a second to react, but then he holds me just as tight.

I feel safer now than I have in a while. I guess I have more pseudo-dads than I realized. “Thank you, Smithy.”

He nods before motioning to the plate on the counter before me. “Anything for you, Miss Octavia. Now eat up, you don’t want to keep Master Saint waiting.”

I take a few bites of the pancakes, since my stomach is basically the home of nothing but butterflies right now. Enough to make him happy, but not so much that I feel sick. I love that Smithy arranged for East to take me in. Maybe going for a spin in his car will be a good start to the day.

I hop down and grab my bag, planting a kiss on Smithy’s cheek. “See you later!”

“Have a good day, Miss Octavia.”

I feel a little lighter as I cross the yard to the hidden gate between our property and the Saints’. It wasn’t there originally, but once I became such good friends with East and Lincoln when we were younger, Dad installed the gate for us.

I cross over onto the Saint property, and a shudder runs down my spine. It almost feels like I’m in enemy territory, but I just need to find East and haul ass out of here. I walk around the property, and it feels like I’ve gone back in time. Nothing over here has changed. This far back in the yard, it’s like I’m in a secret garden, protected from the rest of the world.

Walking around to the front of the house, I’m assaulted by memories of my childhood, which are not welcome considering everything that’s happened since I got back here.

I reach the front of the house and freeze, an icy drop of dread runs down my spine when I see the black Porsche sitting in the drive. Smithy wouldn’t have done this to me, right?

Then Lincoln walks out of the house and glares at me.

Fuck my life.

“Nope.”

I pop my ‘p’ and turn the fuck around. I’ll just take extra credit for my GPA.

“Octavia, stop being a brat and get in the fucking car.” The growl in his voice causes goosebumps to erupt over every inch of my skin.

I spin back and glare at him, my anger like a writhing beast beneath my skin, just to find him leaning against his car. “You don’t get to call me a brat when this is your fucking fault.”

When he rolls his eyes, I swear my blood ignites. My rage grows to natural disaster levels.

Fuck this. He doesn’t get to win, and his total lack of denial is staggering. I strut back to the car, stopping before him and mirroring his pose. I fold my arms over my chest, stand tall, and jut out my chin. He raises an eyebrow before he stands up properly. I almost feel small standing before him. He’s easily a head taller than me, but I don’t give up any ground.

He moves and opens the door for me, I keep the smile from my face at the small win. “Get in the fucking car, Octavia. I won’t say it again.”

I climb into the car without another word and sink into the soft leather seats. I’m not usually one for foreign cars, but this one is a wet fucking dream. Not that I’m going to tell him that. He slams the door closed and stalks around the car before climbing in himself as I buckle in. He doesn’t say a word as he starts the engine. The throaty sound does things to me that it definitely shouldn’t.

And it definitely isn’t linked to being in such a small space with all of his growly big dick energy.

Nope.

He puts the car in gear, the shiny watch on his wrist peeks out from under his shirt, catching my gaze. The purr of the car mesmerizes me as we head toward the gate. I hold my breath, hoping that the crazy people stalking me and trying to get through my gates don’t notice me.

“They can’t see you, the windows are tinted enough that they won’t have a clue you’re in here.” I look over at him, wondering why he cares enough to reassure me. Not that I take his words as gospel. It’s not until we’re past the savage masses of paparazzi, and they don’t attack the car, that I relax even a little. Not that I can relax fully, I’m still in a moving vehicle with someone who very obviously doesn’t want me around. The only reason I know I’m safe is because Lincoln has always had too much ego to off himself.

We ride the rest of the way to school in total silence. The worst part about it is that it’s not even uncomfortable. Other than the fact that I can’t stop glancing over at him. Why does the asshole have to be so pretty to look at? And since when are forearms a thing that are so goddamn hot? I can’t help but steal glances at him. He’s changed a lot since we were kids, and I haven’t exactly had a chance to watch him without care before this point. His thunderstorm colored eyes are focused on the road, and his dark hair is just a smidge longer than I imagine someone as controlled as him likes since it’s long enough to fall into his eyes. His blazer looks fit to burst around his broad frame, which is almost enough to make me bite my lip, but I refrain as his strong jaw stiffens.

I think I might have been caught checking him out. Oops.

His hands clench around the steering wheel when he looks over. He definitely catches me looking, so I stare back at him with a raised eyebrow, almost begging him to say something. He stays silent.

I can’t help the smirk that plays on my lips as we continue the ride in silence. Finally, he’s the one on the back foot and uncomfortable. This might not last long, so I’m going to enjoy it while it does. I slide my phone from my pocket and pull up the thread with Indi.

Me: You will never guess who my ride is this morning.

Indi: Smithy said it was Coach???

Me: I thought that too… turns out it was the **other** Saint.

Indi: Fuck your life.

Me: My sentiments exactly.

Indi: How is it?

Me: Other than choking on my own resentment and his big dick energy? It’s totally fine. Most quiet I’ve had in days.

Indi: **cowboy emoji** Well, there are worse ways to start the day? Maybe? You’re not dead at least…

Me: Definitely… the madness at my gates was beyond insane.

Indi: I’m sorry. Did Smithy get the legal shit sorted out?

Me: Yeah, I’ll explain everything when we’re at school.

Indi: I’m already here, floofy coffee in hand. I’ll meet you in the library.

Me: Indigo Montoya you are a freaking goddess.

Indi: I know, see you soon **heart emoji**

It doesn’t take long for us to pull into the student parking lot, and he drives straight up to the front of the lot nearest the doors. Of course his spot is just left empty. He pulls in between a white Lamborghini that Finley climbs out of and a Ducati Panigale V4. That’s when I notice Maverick sitting on the steps of the school, helmet on the ground between his legs.

Why am I not even surprised he’s the one with that deathtrap of a bike?

I look at Lincoln, and he pauses before unlocking the doors. “Was it you? That attacked Smithy? That leaked that tape of me?”

He watches me, not saying a word but quirking his eyebrow in a way that makes me feel ridiculous for asking. As if he’d stoop so low as to bother. But he and I both know he’s been on a mission to get me to leave, so it's not that ridiculous if you ask me. Except now I feel kind of stupid for even mentioning it.

I move to open the door, but Finley is there already opening it for me. I guess Lincoln warned them that he was bringing me in today. I slide from the car once the door is fully open before turning back to Lincoln. I hate thanking him for anything, especially when I know this mess is his fault, but manners don’t cost a goddamn thing, and I’m not that bitch.

“Thank you.” He glances over at me and just nods, effectively dismissing me as he climbs from the car. The other two just watch me, as silent as Lincoln has been all morning. I huff and head toward the school to meet Indi in the library.

I’ve had enough big dick energy today already. I can’t deal with the three of them right now. More so because I know that the current chaos in my life is entirely their doing. As much as I’d like to confront them about it, I know I won’t get anything from it. They won’t be sorry, they won’t apologize, and they can’t take it back.

Pandora’s box is officially open.

Just as I reach the doors, I hear Blair’s screeching voice yelling my name across the lot.

Fuck my whole life today.

I contemplate pretending I don’t hear her as my hand finds the handle and twists. But she screeches again, and this time she’s closer, so it’s louder.

Delightful.

I take a deep breath and prepare myself for more emotional warfare. I turn and find Blair at the bottom of the steps, practically foaming at the mouth. “What do you want, Blair?”

Her eyes go wide at the blatant lack of fucks in my tone. Her hands clench at her sides, and I can’t help but wonder what’s gotten her so worked up. It’s not like it was her fake sex tape everyone was watching yesterday. “Why the fuck did you ride in with him?”

You have got to be fucking kidding me. “That’s seriously why you were screeching my name like a banshee? Because I got a ride to school with Lincoln?”

She climbs the steps so that she’s face-to-face with me. I’m glad I put my heels on today otherwise she’d be looking down at me. Fuck that.

“Answer the fucking question.” She practically spits the words at me. “I warned you before the year started, he’s mine.”

I burst out laughing because I just can’t help myself, and she slaps me across the face, shocking the shit out of me. “Don’t fucking laugh at me.”

She practically vibrates with anger, and her eyes are wild. Apparently laughing at the self-appointed queen of ECP isn’t something that happens around here. A crowd gathers around us, but the last thing I need is another video of me circulating. I take a deep breath and try to calm myself down so I don’t retaliate, because breaking her new nose isn’t going to help me right now. “I needed a ride to school because my house is a circus right now.”

“That better be all it is. Next time, call the pathetic, depressive dirty emo puppy you’ve adopted to save you.” My sight bleeds red at her words, and I shove down all of my good intentions and punch her square in the face. The crunch of her nose, followed by her scream and the gush of blood, makes me feel better for about two seconds until the reality of the situation seeps in.

Never start the fucking fight, Octavia.

I turn on my heel and walk into the school while she wails on the front steps. Her bitch squad fawns over her and leads her away from the school. Her nose probably isn’t broken, right?

I close my eyes and take a deep breath—I can survive this day. And maybe if I do actually survive the day, I can survive the year.

I open my eyes and head to my locker. My stomach bottoms out when I catch sight of them… Dozens of stills from that fucking video are taped all over the walls and lockers.

You have got to be fucking kidding me. Could this day get any worse?

I start tearing them down before anyone else heads inside, but I’m sure if they’re here, they’re everywhere. I throw a ton of them in the trash before realizing that it’s a waste of my time. The video is already out there. The pictures are just another taunt.

Fuck it, I’m not wasting any more time on this bullshit.

I drop my stuff off at my locker before going to find Indi. Please fucking Christ let this day get better. I don’t think one fucking good day is too much to ask for.

I strut into the library to find Indi waiting at the table for me with the biggest Frappuccino possible topped with so much whipped cream that all of my bad mood disappears. Well, at least for the moment.

She hands it to me, her grin matching mine. “There is nothing that whipped cream can’t fix.”

I take a sip of the sugary goodness, wondering how I ever came around to this drink, and sigh. I think she might be right.

I look up from the drink after a quiet moment, and my eyes catch on a trashcan stuffed to the brim, realizing after a moment that it’s full of pictures from the sex tape. Indi blushes a little and shrugs when she notices me looking at it. “I took down as many as I could on the way here and then all of the ones that were taped up in here too. I know I couldn’t get them all, but I figured the more I got the less there were for you and everyone else to see.”

I hug her tight, and she squeaks a little. I fucking love this girl. She has my back without me even needing to say a word. “It’s official, you are my ride or die, bitch.”

She grins at me enthusiastically and nods when I let her go. “You had me at ride or die.”

* * *

English with Ms. Summers is always a dream, but there’s a rock in my stomach as I walk to Business. I need this class so badly, but I literally can never focus. Mr. Peters’ voice is so dreary and monotone. And after having already focused for a whole lesson, it feels like my brain just won’t engage during this time period.

It sucks.

I sit in my seat next to Lincoln, groaning when he glares at me. What a joy.

“Ladies and gents, as per the email last week, your first proposals are due at the end of the lesson,” Mr. Peters says as he drops down into the chair at his desk.

I look at Lincoln, who looks smug as fuck. I didn’t get any damn email, and I’d put money on him being the reason why. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I didn’t realize I was your keeper.” He rolls his eyes, and just once, I wish I was brave enough to fuck him up a little. I’ve fought bigger guys than him, but there's something almost feral underneath that calm surface of his that gives me pause every time I think about lashing out.

“Of course you’re not.” I sigh, exasperated. Why does he take everything I say the wrong way? “But we’re supposed to work on this together.”

Mr. Peters draws my attention back to him as he drones on about plentiful returns and profit margins, and it takes everything I have not to zone out and panic about the project I’m meant to be doing with Lincoln. After most of the class has passed, Mr. Peters tells us to finish up our first proposals before handing them in.

The first part of our project is to write a proposal for a business venture with full-scale profit projections. Apparently, Lincoln has taken it upon himself to decide what the business venture is. I look over at him and he’s got a smug smile on his face as he watches my panic ensue. “Are you going to show me what you’ve worked on at least?”

“Why would I do that?” he asks, smug smile firmly in place.

I let out a deep sigh and rub at my temples. “Just this once, don’t be an ass, Lincoln. Please?”

Here I am, begging again. I’m starting to despise Lincoln Saint and his web of bullshit.

“Fine,” he says, dropping the file onto my desk before leaning in close. “But only because I like the way my name falls off your lips when you beg.”

The bell rings before I have a chance to even read the first page. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

He takes the file from my hand, smirking at me before stalking to the front of the room, dropping the proposal he wrote up on Mr. Peters desk. “I did this myself. Octavia felt she was above the task, so I completed it on both our behalf.”

Mr. Peters looks over to me with an eyebrow raised. “Miss Royal, if you’ll please stay behind.”

I groan and drop my head onto the table, waiting for the rest of the class to filter out, the snickers following as they go. When the last person has left and closed the door, I grab my bag and head to his desk. “Mr. Peters, I wasn’t aware that our proposals were due today, and Lincoln hasn’t exactly been open to being my partner—today was the first time I knew he’d even been working on it. If you give me an extension, I can make notes on his proposal and expand on the presentation.”

He leans back on his chair, and the look of indignation on his face tells me just how much he believes me. I could fucking kill Lincoln. Does he have any idea how much I need to pass this class?

“Miss Royal, it’s obvious from your work and lack of attention that you are not dedicated to this class.” He stands, moving closer to me before perching on the edge of the desk. “At this point, with what you’ve done so far, you are looking at a failing grade on this project.”

The blood drains from my face, and I feel a little woozy. I can’t fail this class.

I just can’t.

“Please, Mr. Peters, if there is anything I can do, I’ll do it. I need to pass this class.” I hate that I’m begging. I hate what Lincoln has reduced me to yet again.

The lewd smile that crosses his pasty face makes me feel sick. He stands up and brushes back my hair behind my ear, and I shudder. “I’m sure we can think of some way for you to earn extra credit.”

“Mr. Peters, that isn’t exactly what I was intending.” I take a step backward, toward the door, and he follows again, reaching for his zipper.

“I hear things, you know. No one would have to know, not that they’d believe you if you said anything. I’m a respected teacher and well… I saw that video. A few times.”

My stomach rolls as he pulls his dick from his pants, and I look anywhere but at him.

“No, Mr. Peters. I won’t do it.”

“A little whore like you must be very good at sucking dick. Imagine how easy that A would be. I’m sure you’re a girl of many talents.” He walks closer toward me until my back slams against the door. This can’t be happening to me right now. “Be a good girl and get on your knees.”

“No!” I shout, pushing him away from me. “You’re a fucking pervert. I’m not going to do anything for you.”

His face turns red as he tucks his dick away. “You’ll regret that. And you’ll fail this class no matter what you do. No one would think twice about a girl like you failing this class.”

Angry tears prick at my eyes, and I blink them back.

“Fuck you, Mr. Peters.”

“I did offer,” he says, with the creepiest smile I’ve ever seen. I tear the door open and storm from the class, feeling dirtier than I ever have. But he’s right, who is going to believe me after everything that’s happened since I came back here?

Why is this year not over yet?

* * *

My morning has not gone the way I hoped it would, but the sugar rush definitely carried me through it. The bell for lunch rings just as my sugar crash hits, and I groan. At least I can eat and recaffeinate. Caffeine is absolutely necessary to ensure no more fists are thrown.

I haven’t seen or heard anything of Blair since this morning, but most of her bitch squad have been MIA too. I’m taking it as a blessing, because the whispers and looks have already been so insane today, that, despite my armor and the sugar, I feel like I’m bleeding out.

I pack my things up into my bag and head for the cafeteria, not paying attention to anyone around me. I guarantee I’ve taken nothing in during any of my lessons today, so I’m definitely going to have to beg someone for their notes at some point.

I meet Indi by the doors for lunch, and the grimace on her face tells me that she has bad news. “Blair is back… and she is pissed.”

“Of course she is,” I groan. I mean, she definitely deserved at least a bitch slap, but I definitely saw red earlier. You can fling shit at me, and I’ll let it go, but you do not insult or fuck with my friends. All reason disappears when you cross that line.

“Apparently her nose isn’t broken, though.” She shrugs and links her arm with mine. I love her show of loyalty, even if it is a subconscious thing. “So ya know, she has no real reason to be pissed.”

“I’m almost disappointed that it’s not broken,” I joke, and she snickers.

“The day isn’t over yet.”

We walk into the cafeteria laughing, and it goes so quiet you could hear a fucking pin drop. Just awesome.

Indi stills at my side, and I love how fierce she looks right now. There’s a nasty sneer on her face like she’d happily throw hands if anyone says one goddamn thing.

I jut out my chin and glance around the room. I don’t see Blair here yet, but I catch the eyes of at least half of the room as I go. My eyes dare them to be brave enough to say something to my face rather than whispering about me behind my back. No one says a fucking thing or even moves until I lock eyes with Lincoln. He raises an eyebrow at me, but I refuse to look away first. Finley leans over and says something to him, drawing his attention from me, and I smirk.

Once he looks away from me, conversation starts again, and Indi leads us toward the line to actually get some food. I grab a cheeseburger, fries, and a soda despite the fact that eating feels like that last thing I want to actually be doing.

As we head to our usual table, coughs of ‘slut’ and ‘whore’ follow me across the room. “Fuck you all, like you’re the virgin fucking Mary,” Indi snaps at someone who I don’t remember having ever seen before.

“Not worth it,” I tell her, pulling her to our table and letting the words slide off of me like water from a duck’s back.

She slams her tray down, and her hands shake as she sits, her face red with anger. “People are such fucking dicks. Not one of them would call you out on shit to your face. Cowards, all of them.”

“They are.” I shrug. “But they’re not worth your rage for exactly that reason.”

She shakes her head and jams a fry in her mouth. Apparently, her hangry is showing. “I don’t know how you do it. I’d have already broken under the pressure of everything you’ve been through the last few weeks.”

“Nah,” I say, shaking my head as I unwrap my burger. “You’re stronger than you think. You survived last year here on your own.”

“Let’s agree to disagree.”

We sit and eat in a comfortable silence until Raleigh and some of his friends join us. No one says a thing about the video, Blair, or my outburst this morning. They just talk about the upcoming game this week, and it’s just so fucking normal. I love it.

“Are you okay?” Raleigh asks when everyone else is distracted with another conversation about the Asheville Allstars.

I think about his question for a quiet, contemplative moment. Am I okay? I feel okay considering everything that’s happened, so I nod and smile. “I could be worse.”

He frowns a little, the lines on his forehead deepening as he does. “How come you didn’t call me for a ride today if you needed one?”

I swear it takes everything in me not to roll my eyes. I don’t get why me coming in with Lincoln is so out there. I mean, yes, he hates me. That much is obvious, but still. I bite back my frustration at being called out, especially since it’s really not any of his business. Yeah, he’s been a good friend, and he asked me out on a date, but that doesn’t give him the right to question me.

Despite all of the mild resentment swimming in my head, I answer him, trying to sound as rational and as calm as I can. “Smithy, my guardian, arranged it. I thought I was coming in with Indi, but with the amount of press at the house, it wasn’t possible. Lincoln is my neighbor, and it was easy for me to get to his house undetected, so I could actually get to school.”

He frowns again, but nods. “Okay.”

That’s all he says. Like I needed his permission. I grit my teeth together and take a deep breath. I’m on edge today, so I’m not going to snap at him. This could be me fully taking it the wrong way. He’s been nothing but nice until now, so this has to just be me.

Just as I find my zen, Blair enters the room and glares at me. Her nose isn’t strapped up, so it obviously wasn’t broken. Though even from here, I can see the extra concealer on her face, so I guess there’s some bruising.

Shame.

She stalks toward me, pissy as hell, but Finley steps in front of her and diverts her attention to Lincoln. I don’t know why that pisses me off more, but when she smiles smugly at me, I clench my fists under the table.

The bell rings, and Indi glances over at me. “Want to skip?”

I love her so fucking much.

I shake my head and grab my bag and tray. “Not a fucking chance. Then they’ll think they’ve won, and they need to learn that I’m not going anywhere.”

“Damn, you are slaying this badass bitch vibe today,” she says, smiling wide. We say our goodbyes to the table and hurry out of the cafeteria to my locker.

They’re going to learn that I’m not just another one of their lowly subjects. This bitch doesn’t take it lying down.