Page 12 of He Hate Me

“Brandon, I need you,” Devin yells from the direction of the foyer.

“Just a sec,” he calls back. He locks eyes with me, a slight smirk telling me that he noticed my reaction.

“Tomorrow at lunch, meet me in the library.”

“I can’t do that. I eat lunch with the cheerleaders.”

“I could join you,” he suggests. That would be a disaster, me either trying to get rid of him or having to explain why he’s eating with us.

I shake my head rapidly and he knows he’s won. He saunters out the door like he has the world on a string. I want to hurl obscenities after him, but I can hear Devin talking to him. The back door opens and closes, and I don’t hear them anymore.

My hands tremble as I grip the edge of the bathroom sink. I stare at my reflection in the mirror, hardly recognizing the fear in my own eyes. How did things spiral so far out of control? He wasn’t direct about it, but what he has in his possession is kryptonite. If anyone sees that video I am toast. Everything I've worked for could come crashing down—my social status, my cheerleading, even my college prospects. He says I’m his. What does that even mean? He said last night changed the equation, but what he really meant was that it changed the balance of power. Whatever he wants from me—and it’s not hard to guess what it is—he now has the ability to make me give it to him.

Panic rises in my chest, making it hard to breathe. I try taking slow, deep breaths to calm myself. Think, Deja, think. There has to be a way out of this. I just need to outmaneuver him somehow.

I'll go to the library at lunch tomorrow like he wants. I'll act like I'm too scared to resist him. Get him to lower his guard. Then I'll snatch his phone and delete those pictures once and for all. Or maybe I'll threaten to tell Devin about his little blackmail scheme. Considering Brandon's already been in trouble with the law, I'm pretty sure Devin will believe me.

Six

Deja

Idon’t sleep very well on Sunday night, my mind going over the things that Brandon said and pondering what he wants from me. The obvious answer is sex, but that seems too straightforward. After all, Mackenzie has been very obvious about being interested. If that’s all he wanted, wouldn’t it be a lot easier to go after her? Or is it just that we fooled around and now he thinks I’m a low-effort option? I’m pretty sure he hasn’t hooked up with anyone since he moved in, unless he wasn’t really with his mom the two Saturdays he went home. But even then, twice in two months isn’t a lot of sex. I guess him wanting to sleep with me is better than him hating my guts and fighting with me all the time. Or is it? This has the potential to be way more annoying than trading barbs.

When my alarm goes off at 5:30, the last thing I want to do is get out of bed, but I drag myself through my usual run, then waste twenty minutes figuring out what to wear. No skirts, no low-cut tops, no button downs. Nothing that could be interpreted as easy-access, basically. I settle on jeans and a T-shirt that I got at church camp a couple years ago. It’s so cringe, but if anyone asks, I’ll say it’s ironic and if I know people they’ll pretend to get it even if they don’t. Of course, the real reason is to make Brandon think of church and hopefully feel too guilty to ask for anything too outrageous.

By the time I get downstairs, Brandon has already left. One of his friends from soccer gives him a ride to school every day because they have the same practice schedule. I’ve only seen the car, not who drives it, but I wonder if it’s one of the guys from Saturday night. Carmello was cute, and I found his number on the floor mat when I was cleaning out my car yesterday.

The more I think about it, the more I like the idea of texting him. That should show Brandon that he can’t control me. See how he likes me talking to one of his friends. I find the piece of paper in the cupholder when I get in my car to drive to school and stick it in the pocket of my backpack.

I spot Mackenzie, Lorelei, and Shelby hanging around my locker when I get to school. Mackenzie is cute in a short denim skirt and cowboy boots. Her red, off the shoulder top sets off her dark hair perfectly. She put a little extra effort in today, and I wonder if it's for Brandon's benefit. I want to ask, but that feels like it could be opening a can of worms. Lorelei and Shelby are wearing everyday uniform of most girls on our team—yoga pants and a hoodie. Sometimes we mix it up with jeans or sweatpants, but we don't usually dress up like Mean Girls or anything. Looking like we're trying wouldn't be cool. This is the Midwest; people don't wear flashy jewelry or runway fashions. Well, except for the uber-richies like Rourke van der Hoff and his friends, who weren’t born around here. They dress like they think we’re in New York or Monaco or something. For those of us from here, it's all about quality brands and understated style. My three friends are deep in conversation but stop to give me quick hugs as I walk up.

“Hey girlie, love the shirt!” Mackenzie says with more than a trace of sarcasm.

I point at the tacky, bedazzled cross on the front of it with both index fingers and give them a little curtsy. “You know me, just keeping it holy.”

The three of them laugh.

“What's the tea, ladies?” I ask, twirling the combination on my lock.

“Just talking about who's taking who to homecoming,” Shelby says. “I can't believe it's only two weeks away!”

“Ugh, don't remind me,” I groan. I've been nominated to homecoming court, but I really haven't had time to campaign. I was supposed to be going over the flyer designs with Mom last night and planning the treat table, but I was so distracted, I forgot. “I still don't have a date.”

“Really?” Lorelei looks surprised. “Throw a rock and you'll hit a guy who wants to go with you.”

“But do I want to go with him?”

We're interrupted by Gio sauntering up to our group. He leans casually against the locker next to mine and gives us that crooked smile that makes all the girls swoon.

“Bongiorno bellezze,” he says smoothly. “I see the stars have come to Earth.”

Mackenzie and Shelby giggle while Lorelei tosses her hair over her shoulder flirtatiously. I resist the urge to roll my eyes again.

“Hey, Gio,” I say. “What's up?”

“I am drawn to all this beauty; I could not resist to say hello.” His smile encompasses all of us, but he leans against my locker in a way that forces me to angle my body towards him.

“Deja, bellissima” he says, lowering his voice as if sharing a secret, “you glow like the sun today.”