The night me and the guys stuffed Josh’s dead body into the back of a car. As usual, she was stalking me, putting her fucking nose in my business, and now she has me by the balls.
2
It’s eleven o’clock in the morning when I roll outta bed. Since my dad and his gold-digging wife are out of town, I crashed in my old bedroom. It’s probably best. Marni says she’s forgiven me, but how could she fully? I held a gun on the girl and fed her to the lion. Part of me knew that she would be ok, but to be honest, I wasn’t completely sure. I just knew that I couldn’t let Zed open his mouth about what he stumbled upon—that I fuck my stepsister behind closed doors.
What started off as just fooling around, has turned into this full-blown mess of emotions on her end. It was innocent. Well, as innocent as it can be. We screwed a few times and it was nice, but then she started sprouting these feelings for me. She got crazy possessive. Watching me from afar, texting me nonstop.
When I tried to stop it a couple weeks ago, she told me that she had proof that me and the guys were a part of Josh’s death. I told her we didn’t kill him, but she doesn’t believe me. The truth is, even we don’t know what the hell happened to him. Now, she has me on a short leash and while I get laid whenever I want, if I so much as look at another girl, she flips the fuck out and begins making threats.
She can blackmail me now, but soon, she’ll be the one begging for this to end.
My footsteps echo through the empty hall and I would like to think that they were cleared just for me, but in reality, I’m late for class. I do all of my schooling online because I hate being here, but since I’ve fallen behind, there is one class that I have to take in person and I hate it with a passion. At least it’s the last period of the day, so I don’t have to drag my ass out of bed too early.
“Glad you could join us, Mr. Titan,” Mrs. Rhys says when I walk through the curtain onto the stage.
“Yeah, I was busy with a math test,” I blatantly lie.
“Please have a seat. Willa was just about to start her audition duet with Trent,” Mrs. Rhys says as she looks out at the rest of the stagehands who are sitting quietly in the front row.
Pretty sure she was insinuating that I join them, but instead, I grab a stool to the left of me, spin it around and sit down right on the stage. This should be interesting.
Mrs. Rhys clears her throat. “Lars, please join the rest of the class.”
Looking back and forth from her to the crowd, I keep my ass planted. “Actually, I prefer to listen from up here.” I twirl my finger around my ear. “It helps to get a feel for the sound.” I totally just pulled that out of my ass, but I’m not too keen on getting sandwiched between Allergic Alan and the chick who doesn’t stop talking about her scholarship to Julliard.
Mrs. Rhys’ eyebrows pinch together, but she doesn’t say a word. Instead, she turns to face a flustered Willa who is standing front and center. Willa is many things, but the center of attention is not one of them. She’s quiet and shy, a Bible hugger who has the self-esteem of a potato.
I lean forward, getting comfortable, and press my elbows to my knees, causing the legs of the stool to move a few inches. The sound of the metal against the linoleum floor draws Willa’s attention. Her eyes shoot to me and when they catch mine, I don’t see the shy girl in a knitted sweater, I see orbs of fire and fury. Pure hatred.
Yeah, she hates me. Naturally so. I took the girl's virginity—stole it rather—then stood by idly as my friends blasted a video of the entire thing to all our classmates. Everyone assumes that I shared the video, since my asshole friends sent it from my phone. So yeah, she hates me.
The way her brown-sugar hair cascades around her face leads me to believe that she does so to purposely hide herself. She’s a pretty girl, don’t get me wrong. With a complexion that’s flawless, a cute little chin dimple, and small but perky breasts, she definitely has potential. But for some reason, she prefers to live under the radar. Except for in this moment. In this class, she wants to shine.
I smirk. “Sorry about that.”
Her eyes roll back to her audience, and I wait for the background music to begin, but there is none. Her melancholy is the only sound as she begins singing “A Tale as Old as Time” from Beauty and the Beast.
Holy shit, Sweater Girl can sing.
She looks over at me as she continues.
Why the hell is she looking at me like that? My eyebrows pinch together as our gazes hold and she keeps on with the song that she’s apparently singing to me. I always knew she was a little strange, but this is downright uncomfortable.
Finally, she turns back to the crowd. Her delicate voice is packed full of emotion and I’m pretty sure the entire class is moved by her performance. Hell, I think I even felt something tickle inside of me.
Trent joins her side and takes her by the hand as they turn to face each other, and he joins her in on the final line of the chorus.
I have no idea what this play is even about, other than a girl who falls in love with a beast. I’ve never watched the movie and don’t bother watching them practice. I’m usually backstage for the hour-long class working on sounds. Don’t even participate in the evening rehearsals because that wasn’t part of the arrangement.
Counselor Goodman said to show up three days a week and participate and I get the grade. The end. I’m not putting any extra effort into this, and I certainly don’t have the heart for drama club. Willa and Trent can have the spotlight. The little elves can have their moment flocking around on stage, pretending that fame is just around the corner. I just need to finish this shit so I can graduate.
When Willa wraps up the song and everyone claps, I join in on the cheer. Clapping my hands together so loudly that it drowns out the sound of the others. “Bravo,” I shout. My voice is laced with sarcasm. I slide the stool back and get to my feet as Willa shoots daggers in my direction.
When I walk behind the thick red curtain, I assume I’m alone, until someone grabs ahold of my bicep. I thrust my arm back in a knee-jerk reaction as my fists clench. “What the hell are you doing?” Trent’s voice is extra gruff and masculine and it makes me laugh. Trent Peters is anything but a tough guy, though it seems he’s all about putting on the mask of a beast for the girl. He’s this tall and lanky dude with a bowl cut and braces, and I’m pretty sure he doused himself in an entire bottle of Axe Cologne.
My thumb points over my shoulder. “Was sort of thinking I might come back here and take a nap.”
“No. I mean, why are you in this class? Is it just to taunt her? To make a scene?”
Instinctively, I chuckle. It starts out hushed, but escalates quickly into full-blown laughter. “Who? Willa? You fucking kidding me?”
“No. I’m not kidding. I’m onto you, Lars. Stay the hell away from her.”
I try to stop the laughter. I really do, but is this kid for real right now? Planting my palm gently on his chest, I give him a little shove. “Don’t fuck with me, dude. I’m not in the mood.” I’ve got Madison hot on my ass. Things with the guys and Marni are still a mess. And to top it off, the cops have widened the search for Josh, and we still have no idea where the hell Zed took him.