“Let me go.” I push against his chest, a solid wall of muscle. “I’m going to be late for class.”
He grabs my wrists in his giant hands and slams them against the locker, so I’m splayed out like a V. I look behind him for anyone who could help, but the hallways are cleared out.
“We need to talk. After school. Meet me by the stadium.”
“Yeah, right,” I say, staring back at him. “Like I’m really going to trust you? I’d show up and you’d rape me, organgrape me with your disgusting friends.”
He laughs a little. “You really think I want you that way?”
His words slice through me, leaving behind a burn in my chest. Why does hearing him say that hurt so much? I don’t care that Briggs doesn’t find me attractive, or that when he said that just now, he looked like the thought of being with me repulsed him. I hate the guy. Why would I care what he thinks of me?
I wouldn’t have sex with him either, even if he does happen to be the hottest guy in school. He’s staring down at me with those royal blue eyes, and I force myself to look away, my eyes wandering down to his full lips and that sharp jaw.
“Three o’clock,” he says. “Be there or else.”
“Or elsewhat?” I snap.
He backs away. “Guess you’ll have to show up to find out.”
I watch as he turns and goes down the hall.
One semester. I only have to make it through one semester. I thought it’d be easy. I’d just keep to myself, and nobody would bother me. But on my first day back, I’m being threatened by Briggs Chadwick, who I’ve just deemed the newly crowned number one asshole of Devonshore High.
Chapter 2
Ella
I walk in late to AP History, smiling at Mr. Walker, hoping the smile will make him excuse my tardiness. It doesn’t work. The old man scowls at me as he watches me take my seat.
My dad used to mow Mr. Walker’s lawn until last fall, when he accused my dad of cutting the grass too short, resulting in dead patches. He fired my dad and has been giving me dirty looks ever since, knowing I’m the daughter of an alleged grass murderer. And now I’m in his class. This should be fun.
“Ms.Quinn,” Mr. Walker says, emphasizing my last name to make it clear he knows who I am. “I expect my students to arrivebeforethe bell rings.”
“Sorry,” I mutter, glancing at Briggs in the back row. He smirks at me before looking down at his phone.
“I feel a punishment is in order,” Walker says, “to ensure this doesn’t happen again.”
Is he serious? I’m barely a minute late. What about Briggs? There’s no way he made it here before the bell went off.
Everyone’s staring at me as I sit down, and I hear people whispering behind me.
“An hour in detention,” Walker says. “After school today.”
Guess that ruins my plan to meet with Briggs, not that I was actually going to show up.
“The rest of the class should learn from Ms. Quinn and be in your chairs and ready to go when the bell rings.”
Wait — what just happened? I can’t have detention! I’ve never had detention! What if it goes on my school record? What if Harvard finds out, or one of the other colleges I applied to?
My phone dings. I glance down at it and see a text from an unknown number. I ignore it and try to think of how to get outof this. I’ll talk to Mr. Walker after class. Maybe he’ll let me out of detention if I promise never to be late again. But the guy really hates me because of my dad. He’s obsessed with his grass and almost sued my dad for the dead patches, which my dad claims were caused by dog pee, not mowing the grass too short.
My phone dings again. It’s another text from the unknown number. I quickly read it.
Meet me after school and I’ll get you out of detention.
What the hell? Is this from Briggs? How did he get my number?
I glance back at him, and our eyes meet. I quickly face forward again and text him back.How?
