“Raine?” Lena had suddenly noticed I wasn’t next to her anymore. I did my best to school my expression into one of unconcern, although from the look in her eyes, I didn’t think I succeeded.
“I’m fine. I’ll catch up with you later, okay?”
She frowned, but at my pleading look, headed inside with a sigh, only after she’d shot a pointed look at Carter and drawn a finger across her throat. Her theatrics made me smile, despite everything, although the same couldn’t be said for Carter.
“I’ve been waiting for you.” Five innocuous words, but spoken in the low, sinister tone Carter used, sent icy shivers down my spine. He held me in an iron grip, my back against his torso. People were throwing us strange looks as they passed, no doubt wondering why Carter, king of the school had me, a nobody, pressed up against him.
“Little trickster.”
His lips were tickling my ear, and I had a sudden, inexplicable urge to laugh. A smile tugged at the corners of my lips before I could stifle it.
“Something funny?” The grip on my torso tightened. He pulled me behind the columns at the top of the steps, into the shadows away from prying eyes.
“N-no,” I stammered. My brain was going haywire. I took a deep, cleansing breath, and then my nose was suddenly full of cedar and spice. Why did he have to smell so good?
“Remember how I told you to watch your back?” His low, threatening tone sent prickles of fear through me.
“I said I was sorry.” Gathering my courage, I met his eyes. The gold flecks blazed like fire as he stared down at me. Yeah, he wasn’t going to be forgetting what I’d done anytime soon.
“Too little, too late.”
“Yeah? You hated me already, what difference would it have made?”
“I already told you that to hate you would mean I actually cared enough to form an opinion,” he said in a bored voice.
“It sounds like you care now.” What was I saying? Goading him was the worst idea. Yet, somehow, the words kept spilling from my mouth. “If anything, I should be the angry one. You threatened me, intimidated me, and made me scared to say anything. I don’t like you, Carter.”
I was breathing heavily by the end of my rant. This boy. I hated speaking up, didn’t answer back, but there was something about Carter Blackthorne that riled me up.
His eyes sparked, and he leaned down, his breath hot on my ear. “You don’t like me? What about when you kissed me? Let me touch you?” Lowering his voice even further, he moved so his lips were touching my ear, every single part of me tingling with awareness. “What about when you came all over my hand?”
I had nothing to say to that. My fists stayed clenched tightly at my sides, and I turned my head away from him.
“You can keep lying to yourself, but I can see straight through you. Watch out, Laurent. You like to hide in the shadows, but soon, everyone will know your name.”
He tore himself away from me, leaving me slumped against the wall, my heart pounding. What had I done?
The whispers started during my Economics class. People threw curious glances my way, smirks and low taunts heading in my direction. Lena slid into her seat next to me, brow furrowed. “What the fuck is going on with everyone today? Why are they all looking at you?”
I shrugged, staring down at my desk. “No idea.”
“If anyone’s said anything about you, I’ll fuck them up,” she said fiercely, which got a smile out of me. I had no doubt she’d actually do it, either.
“Hey, Imogen! What’s going on?” Lena stared over at Imogen Lang, a challenging brow raised. If anyone knew what was happening, it was her. Beautiful and popular, she was part of Carter’s group, but unlike the other girls, she was actually nice to everyone. I’d never even heard her say anything bitchy about anyone.
She glanced at me, then back at Lena, biting her lip. “Maybe you should check your phone.”
“You do it, I can’t look,” I muttered.
Lena blew out a breath and pushed her blonde hair behind her ears, before picking up her phone.
She was silent for a while, and then she spoke, the words spat from her lips like bullets. “I’m. Going. To. Kill. Him.”
Oh no. No. “Tell me,” I whispered.
“Quieten down, everyone! Today we’ll be studying the economic repercussions of the collapse of the Lehman Brothers.” Our Economics teacher, Mr. Hicks, looked pointedly at me and Lena, and I shut my mouth. When he turned to his laptop to begin his slideshow presentation, Lena slid her phone over to me.
It was open at the social media gossip account for students of our school. An account I avoided wherever possible. The only drama I was interested in was the drama club.
There was one new post. Almost all the posts were anonymous, but this one had been posted by Carter Blackthorne himself, giving it instant credibility in the eyes of the students reading it.
WHAT HAS RAINE LAURENT BEEN UP TO?
The question was written over an image taken in the gym changing rooms, if the background was anything to go by. Slightly unfocused and grainy, it depicted a girl with hair more or less identical to mine, her head level with the crotch of a guy that I vaguely recognised from the football team. The first thought that ran through my head was, who was giving him a blowjob in school? Then, I gritted my teeth as the outrage hit me, followed by nausea churning in my stomach.
“Seriously? Is he for real?”
“What the fuck is his problem?” Lena hissed.
“Silence! Miss Drummond, this is your one and only warning.” Mr. Hicks gave her a stern warning, and she rolled her eyes but stopped talking.
I opened her phone to a new message and started typing furiously. I couldn’t get her involved. It wouldn’t be worth my time. If she put pressure on Carter, or tried to, he’d just fuck with me out of school, or in places Lena couldn’t reach.
Don’t do anything. Please. Let me handle this.
She read it with a frown and shook her head.
Please. I need to fight my own battles.
“I guess I can understand that,” she whispered. “But say the word, and I will fuck him up.”
Her impassioned promise on my behalf sent a flutter of warmth through me, dulling my outrage, and I couldn’t help a tiny, grateful smile at her determination. “Thanks.”
“Miss Drummond, Miss Laurent.” My head flew up to see Mr. Hicks, his mouth set in a flat line. “See me after class.”
Great.
The rest of the morning I did my best to ignore the whispers that followed me everywhere, the attention almost unbearable. People who had never given me the time of day before were openly staring, gossiping about me as if I was the latest source of entertainment. As my discomfort grew, so did my anger at Carter, until I felt like I was about to explode.
When lunchtime rolled around, I hid away in the huge library, and instead of heading to the English class that I shared with Carter in the afternoon, I stayed tucked into a tiny alcove in the archives. I tried to bury myself in my textbooks, but after my phone buzzed for what felt like the hundredth time, I finally gave in and opened my notifications.
I shouldn’t have looked.