The rest of the day was pretty uneventful, but it hardly mattered, I was more on edge than I’d been even during my first semester at Oak Park, constantly waiting for the next fight, the next attack. Fighting back felt good, but it was also terrifying and exhausting.
The more I pushed back, the harder the Princes and their minions would come after me, and it was just a matter of seeing who broke first.
All week, I’d spent the evenings holed up in Prentice Hall, doing homework or typing away at my computer as I searched for more dirt on the Princes. Leah was still ignoring me, which meant Maggie and Dan were sort of doing the same, and most of the other kids only spoke to me to call me names or threaten me.
Oliver was in my second period Trigonometry class, and he made a point to be nice to me, sitting next to me and chatting me up. I wasn’t quite sure where it was coming from, but considering so many other students seemed to hate me, it was hard to say no to a friendly face.
On Friday, he asked me if I’d like to go to the football game on Saturday night. I honestly didn’t want to, but since I was determined to show the Princes they couldn’t control me, it would be a good chance to drive that point home. And besides, Oliver was one of the few kids at Oak Park who’d ignored the Princes’ directive to make my life hell.
“Yeah, sure.” I nodded, stuffing my Trig textbook back into my bag.
“Awesome.” He beamed, his dark brown eyes lighting up. “The game’s at 7:30, so I’ll come by your dorm to pick you up at like seven?”
“Okay,” I said absently. My attention was already shifting toward navigating the hallway to my next class.
“Great. It’s a date.”
Oh.
A date.
That hadn’t been exactly where my mind had gone when he’d asked me, but of course he thought it was a date. And maybe that was okay. I hadn’t been on an actual date in over a year—none of the time I’d spent with the Princes could qualify—and as messed up as everything in my life was, I still craved a normal high school experience.
I limped to the end of the week, exhausted and ragged but still alive.
Still here.
My attempt to meet and match every shitty thing done to me was exhausting, and honestly, I was falling behind. But it seemed to be working. Some kids had switched from bullying me to ignoring me, and Sable gave me a wide berth in the halls, almost like she was a little afraid of me.
Saturday was a home game, so Oliver and I were able to walk right over to the stadium from my dorm. As we made our way inside the large structure, he put an arm around me, gripping my shoulder lightly. It was an intimate gesture, and even though it felt a little strange, I didn’t pull away. I’d been nervous about going to the game when so much of the school was out to get me, but having Oliver by my side helped.
I tried to keep my focus on the brown-haired boy beside me instead of players on the field, but I found my gaze settling too often on the jersey that read 23—and above that, Whittaker. Finn moved like something superhuman as he played, and it reminded me painfully of our talks about dance and football. Everything I loved about ballet, I could see in the game he was playing, and I wished I could enjoy watching him tear across the field or spike the ball after a touchdown.
When he tugged his helmet off during a break in play, his blond hair looked slightly darker from sweat, and his gaze darted up, finding me in the stands as if I had summoned it somehow.
“I’ll—be right back. I’ve gotta go to the restroom,” I blurted to Oliver before leaping to my feet and scrambling over the row of bodies to the aisle.
I sat in the stall for a good five minutes before I returned to the stands. Finn had his helmet back on and was running the ball down the field, and he didn’t look up toward me again for the rest of the game.
We won, but I hardly even noticed.
Oliver talked me into going to the after-party too, but as soon as we walked through the door, I regretted it. The Princes were holding court in the large living room, and just like Finn’s had during the game, all of their gazes immediately found me.
Jesus. How the fuck do they do that?
A gaggle of girls surrounded them, and I found myself glancing around, looking for Adena. I hadn’t noticed her with Mason in the halls of the school at all, which made me wonder if she’d been lying about them being back together.
Ruby Bratton was making a serious play for Elijah, but he absently pushed her away as his hazel eyes watched me. I hadn’t spoken to him since Tuesday, when I’d told him there was no way I’d leave Oak Park, and every time he’d seen me since then, he’d shot me a look that was equal parts anger, frustration, and worry.
“Hey, you want a drink?” Oliver leaned down to speak loudly into my ear over the music.
“No.” I shook my head, raising my voice too. “Thanks.”
His brows pulled together. “You sure? Nothing?”
“Yeah.”
I hadn’t had a drink all summer, and I didn’t plan to start now. My dad had died of alcoholism, and my grandpa was a heavy drinker. Last year, I’d been stupid, but the whole point of coming back here was to not repeat my damn mistakes.
Oliver grimaced, looking like he was pretty sure I was making a mistake right now. “Okay… If you say so. I’m gonna go get one for myself though.”
“Sure.”
I nodded tightly, already tempted to cave and get a drink too. Not because I needed it so bad, but because I needed something to do. I could still feel the Princes’ gazes burning into me, and I felt like a sitting duck just standing there.
“Be right back.” Oliver pecked me on the cheek and started off through the crowd.
As soon as he disappeared, I felt it—a shift of energy across the room. Moving as a single unit, Mason, Cole, Elijah, and Finn stepped toward me, and my heart jumped into my throat.
I wanted to punch Elijah in the fucking dick. For all his whispered warnings and worried glances, he was still backing the other three on this.
He was still on their side.
I stiffened, drawing myself up and bracing to face whatever unknown threat was about to be unleashed on me. “What do you want?”
“Did you come here with Oliver Hedelston?” Cole asked.
Before I could answer, Oliver returned. He had a red Solo cup full of something, and he cast the Princes a suspicious look as he stepped up beside me, slipping an arm around my waist this time.
“What the hell are you doing, Hedelston?” This time it was Mason who spoke, and his green eyes flashed as he cocked his head. “Are you fucking with what doesn’t belong to you?”
Anger flared, bolstered by a pain so deep it might as well have cut to the bone. I didn’t belong to anybody, and Mason had given up any claim he might ever have had on me the night he told me he considered breaking my heart a “side benefit” of wrecking my life.
I wanted to grab the cup out of Oliver’s hands and throw the drink at Mason. I wanted to crumple the plastic into a little ball and shove it down the stuck-up Prince’s throat.
But instead, I turned my body toward Oliver’s so that his arm around my waist brought us into each other’s embrace, chest to chest. Then I wrapped my arms around his neck, rose up on tiptoes, and kissed him. He only hesitated for a second before his lips moved against mine, his grip on me tightening slightly.