“I’m good going in alone,” I say, following beside her. “If I need a note, I’ll just get one later.”
She checks her watch. “I do have a meeting to get to, but yes, come see me later if you have any issues.”
She walks off and I continue down the hall. When I get to class, Ms. Rollins stops what she was saying as everyone looks at me.
“I was talking to Ms. Whittaker.”
Ms. Rollins smiles. “Have a seat.”
She continues with her lesson, not even questioning what I told her. It just proves the power I have here, not just with the students but with everyone. But power and popularity won’t make me valedictorian.
I need to be first academically and there’s one person standing in my way. If she won’t agree to lower her grades, I’ll do it for her.
Chapter 4
Ella
Briggs and the other A’s have been oddly quiet the past few days. Since that day Briggs threatened me behind the bleachers, he’s been avoiding me, not even looking my way when we pass in the hall. It’s concerning, and a little frightening, because I know he hasn’t just given up. When Briggs Chadwick III wants something, he gets it.
“He’s staring at you,” Charlotte whispers from across the lunch table. She’s wearing a pink cashmere scarf around her neck, even though it’s going to be eighty degrees today. She’s always cold and always wearing sweaters and scarves.
“Who’s staring?” I ask, hoping it’s James from my AP Lit class. I used to not even notice him but this past year he had a major growth spurt and now he’s six feet tall with actual muscle lining his arms. He’s not as muscular as Briggs — not even close — but he’s still decent looking, and he’s smart. I like smart.
“A2,” she whispers.
“Which one?” I whisper back. “Last semester A2 or now A2?”
“Now A2. I think.” She sighs. “This is so confusing. Can’t we just name them something else?”
I glance back at their table, then quickly focus back on my lunch, a peanut butter sandwich I brought from home. “It’s the current A2.”
“That’s what I thought.” She picks up her veggie burger and takes a bite, then shoves up her glasses as she looks back at the A’s table.
“Stop looking over there,” I say in a hushed tone. “I told you to ignore them.”
Her eyes dart back to mine. “Has he said anything to you? A2?”
“Not recently.”
“What about A1?”
“No. Nothing.”
I didn’t tell Charlotte about my encounter with Briggs. I didn’t think she needed to know. Charlotte tends to worry incessantly. She’s always on edge, chewing on her lip, her nails, her pencil — anything to calm her nerves. Even loud noises freak her out. Last year she jumped out of her seat when Finn suddenly laughed while passing behind her on his way out of the cafeteria. He was looking at a video on his phone and didn’t even notice her leap up and almost slam into him as he went by. So yeah, telling Charlotte about Briggs’ threats would just cause her more anxiety, especially if she thought he might come after her too. And it’s not like she could do anything. EvenIdon’t know what to do and I’ve had all week to think about it. I’ll deal with it when it happens, although I still have no idea what he’s planning.
“Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit,” Charlotte mutters, gnawing on her lip.
“What?” I look around. “What are you—”
“Hey, Trailer Girl.” Parker shoves me in the back and leans down to my ear. “Left you a little present.”
“What do you mean?” I whip around and see him smirking, his white teeth matching his bright white, designer t-shirt. The shirt is tight, accentuating his muscle-lined chest and arms, and his hair looks like he just woke up, but in a good way. Another hot asshole. Are there hot guys who aren’t assholes, or is that not a thing?
“See ya, Trailer Girl.” He saunters off, meeting up with Scarlett, who’s giving me a wicked smile that says something’s going on.
Charlotte leans across the table. “What did he say to you?”
“That he left me a present.” I roll my eyes. “Probably a dick pic.” I check my phone. I’ve never given Parker my number, but if Briggs was able to get it, Parker would have it too. “I don’t see anything.”
