I slowly sink back into my seat, deciding maybe I should heed Headmaster Aldridge’s warning and keep my mouth shut.
“I’m sorry, Saint, but this is a serious matter,” Aldridge says in his firm tone. “We cannot simply ignore suspicious behavior because you have a crush on a girl.”
“A crush?” Saint laughs, and my shoulders stiffen, not only because Aldridge just made things even more awkward, but because I can just imagine Blond Satan reaching out and ripping the man’s throat from his body.
“Now, Saint—” Aldridge starts, but he’s immediately cut off.
“Who else are you questioning besides Mallory? Did you bring in that little emo bitch that likes to play with razors and matches in the first-floor restrooms? Or Blake Sullivan? Every motherfucker in this school knows what he did to that one stupid freshman two years ago. Tell me, who else are you questioning?”
There’s a clear warning underlying Saint’s words, but it doesn’t appear that our headmaster is willing to listen to it. He’s suddenly grown a pair of balls and doesn’t back down from Saint’s menacing stance.
“That’s not something you need to know,” Aldridge replies coldly.
In my mind, that means no one. I’m suspect number one and only. Fucking pricks.
Saint shoves his hands deep in the pockets of his jeans and lifts his shoulders. “Well, it doesn’t matter because Ellis has an alibi.” He keeps surprising me with how doggedly he’s coming to my defense. It’s getting harder and harder to remember why I’m supposed to hate him with my entire soul right now.
Oh, yeah, because he betrayed my trust and unleashed my deepest, darkest secret onto the entire campus in one of the cruelest ways possible, in partnership with my worst enemy.
When I remind myself of that, the hate burns hotter than ever before.
“She doesn’t have anyone who witnessed her supposed alibi,” Officer Meyers so helpfully points out.
“She does.” Saint comes to stand beside me as he drawls, “Me.”
I freeze in my chair. What the hell is he doing? I was alone all night. They can’t possibly think, after what he did, that I’d spend any time with him.
Headmaster Aldridge folds his arms over his chest, his skepticism clear based on his mirthless smile. “Oh, you were with her, were you? After her very public threat that if you came near her again, she’d kill you? What exactly were you doing?”
Saint glances down at me with a cocky smirk, and I draw in a sharp breath because I know this is going to be awful.
“We were making up.” He chuckles, definitely for dramatic effect, then focuses on Aldridge, adding, “I’m sure you can figure out exactly what that means.”
My stomach rolls in disgust. That godawful, self-centered piece of shit.
“Ms. Ellis claimed to be alone in the pool until late,” Officer Fallon replies. Why are they so determined to make me guilty? I feel a little sympathy toward Jenn, whose guilt was always assumed by the Rayfort PD, no matter the circumstances. The only major difference between our situations, though, is that she was guilty most of the time, and I am one hundred percent innocent.
Saint arches a brow and dazzles the room with that lazy smile that’s collected him countless fangirls and psycho rich bitches. “You asked for it,” he mutters, and I feel my head moving from side to side.
“Saint, please—” I start, but he interrupts, speaking over me.
“We were at the pool. I knew she’d be there, so I went to plead my case and fuck some forgiveness out of her. She resisted at first, kept bitching that she’d never forgive me and all that bullshit, but she’s helpless when it comes to dick. You want her alibi? Check her knees. Or her chest.” His smirk goes wider when he shoots me a wink and rests a hand on the back of my chair. “I’m sure I left some DNA there.”
Oh. My. God.
This is the second time in less than twenty-four hours that Saint has mortified me to a nauseating degree. I don’t know how I’m supposed to come back from this night. How the hell will I ever face anyone at this school again? Everyone else in the room looks wildly uncomfortable now, even the cops who I’m sure have seen and heard some gnarly shit, and no one is able to make eye contact with me.
And Saint?
He looks so fucking pleased with himself, his blue eyes dancing with cold delight. If I don’t go to prison now, I’m sure I’ll be there soon—after I murder his ass.
“That’s … that’s highly inappropriate,” Headmaster Aldridge sputters, breaking the excruciating silence.
That’s the understatement of the century.
Saint tilts his chin. “You want to talk inappropriate? The stories I could tell you about this girl would give you wet dreams for weeks. She’s a little freak, and good fucking God, a screamer—”
“Enough!” Aldridge bellows, his face tomato red as he takes a step in Saint’s direction. “We don’t need to hear another word. Clearly, we were mistaken about Ms. Ellis if you and she were … engaging in such activities.”
“Why wouldn’t you tell us he was with you?” Officer Meyers demands from the other side of the table. He can see the web around me begin to unravel, and I’m sure he’s desperate to tighten it back up and not let me escape.
I don’t really know what to say in response because I am clearly not at the wheel of this car wreck. Luckily, Saint comes in to field the question for me, just like he came back from the dead.
The slimy fucker.
“Why would she? I’d just dumped her personal history all over the auditorium floor hours before. Mallory trusted me with her secrets, and I used them to put her in her place. What self-respecting girl would hook up with me after that? But that’s the thing about my little masochist.” He arches an eyebrow at the officers from Santa Teresa’s department and leans a little closer to them, like he’s about to share a big secret. “She swallows anything, including self-respect.”
I’ll kill him for sure now. Except I won’t need a fire to do it. I’ll use my bare hands and choke the life out of him.
All the adults look even more unnerved with his blunt talk about how much of a slut I am. If there’s one thing adults don’t know how to handle, it’s teenagers having sex with each other. Remarkably, though, Headmaster Aldridge glances toward Mrs. Wilmer and gives her the barest of shrugs.
“I … suppose that makes some twisted kind of sense,” he says, yanking uncomfortably at his tie.
God, is he serious?
Mrs. Wilmer forces a smile, her lashes fluttering wildly as she stutters a response, “Y-yes, I think so too.”
He is serious. In fact, they’re all fucking serious.
Aldridge turns to the cops who had just joined us and says, “Let’s go to my office and we can discuss our next moves.”
They look irritated with this shitshow, but they both follow Headmaster Aldridge and Mrs. Wilmer out of the room. None of them bother to look back at me or apologize. I shouldn’t be surprised, but it pisses me off all the same.
Officers Fallon and Meyers share a glance, and I can see they don’t buy the bullshit we’re feeding them. There’s not much they can do without Aldridge backing them up, though, so they begin moving toward the door themselves.