“Nothing happened.” I tip my chin, even as my bottom lip trembles.
I don’t want to tell him about the maggots, Bruno’s growling at the corner last night, or the whispering woods. I sound insane.
“You’re a terrible fucking liar,” he sneers, pushing off the wall and straightening up. I look away, but he grips my chin and jerks my eyes back to his cold ones. “Have you told your mom you’re losing it?”
“I’m not losing it!” I wrench free.
“No? So tell me why you’re screaming yourself hoarse in the bathroom in the dead of night?”
The itch is back with a vengeance, worms wriggling beneath my skin. I ignore it as I spit, “None of your fucking business.”
“You have some backbone, after all,” Dominic replies in a tone laced with amusement. “Not such a wallflower like you want the world to believe.”
“Get out!” I point to the door, fed up with the knowing look in his eyes.
He thinks he is so smart, that he knows anything about me. He doesn’t.
Chuckling, he leaves the bathroom, his broad shoulders disappearing through the doorway.
As soon as the door clicks shut, I find myself scratching my arm furiously until the soft welt bursts like a ripe pimple, releasing a swarm of slick, wriggling maggots. But when I look down, there’s nothing there.
I’m losing it, just like Dominic said.
FIVE
CAMRYN
I struggleto concentrate during breakfast, in class, or when Benny holds court, telling us all about his progress with the operation, ‘get the popular cheerleader to notice him.’
My brain is in a haze like I’m walking through a dense layer of fog. Everywhere I turn, I feel eyes on me. And to make everything worse, my arm won’t stop itching.
I snap out of my thoughts when Lily, with her blonde hair tied up in a messy bun, says, “Give up, Benny. So what if Erica and the quarterback are on a break? You know that counts for nothing in the world of the rich and popular. If you lay a finger on her, the football team will come after you.”
We’re seated near the fountain, roasting beneath the unforgiving sun, with no shade in sight. However, it’s better than hiding away inside the muggy hallways that stink of cheap perfume and sweat.
Aron’s floppy raven hair moves in the summer breeze as he pretends to shudder. “I’d listen to him if I were you.”
“Erica won’t look at him twice,” Gwen says with a shrug and gazes out over the students milling about. “He’ll soon learn it the hard way.”
“Why are you reaching above your station anyway?” Brittany asks as she ties back her hair.
Benny glances disbelievingly at her. “Well, jeez, thanks.”
Brittany is unperturbed, letting her freckled shoulders rise and fall. A strand of her pink hair defies gravity and sticks to her damp forehead. “I don’t mean any harm by it. People like us don’t get along with people like them. There’s a hierarchy, and we’re at the bottom.”
Benny narrows his brown eyes. “Who says we’re at the bottom?”
Gwen and Aron chuckle—Gwen with a lollipop in her mouth and Aron with a paper plane he has spent the last couple of minutes perfecting. He sends it flying. “Why don’t you just ask her out?”
Lily nods in agreement. “Yes, what are you waiting for?”
“These things require careful planning,” Benny argues as I uncap my bottle and take a large sip of the lukewarm water.
“Sure, sure. We believe you.” Gwen’s voice drips with sarcasm.
“Laugh all you want,” Benny grumbles. “I’ll soon show you how it’s done.”
“When you speak of the devil, he appears, or, in this case, she.” Brittany tips her chin toward the building’s front doors, and we all look over in unison to see Erica and her posse exit in their too-short skirts and high heels that would break my ankle. I’ll admit that she’s stunning with her blonde, cascading hair, which always looks freshly brushed with soft curls, and long, tanned legs. No wonder the boys turn heads when she walks by. As her heels click on the pavement, and her feminine laughter rings like bells, I wonder what it’d be like to receive that kind of attention.
