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I just wish the price weren’t the precious strands of my hair.

Theo and Jake appear, Jake trying to pry Rachel off me, Theo pressing Rachel’s hands closer to my head so she stops ripping my hair from my skull. The audience descends to chaos, phone cameras flashing, and so much yelling.

The teachers get in on it, everyone grabbing onto us, pulling us in different directions. I face the ground, trying to have what little dignity I can, not crying out at the pain. I hear Lexie’s arrival when she says a string of curses and I pray for luck to whoever tries to pry her away.

“Tickle her!” I hear Ms. Cortez shout.

Seconds later, Rachel’s hands are out of my hair. Theo yanks me away from the crowd, then wraps his arms around me, tucking my head and hair away from everyone. I breathe in his scent, listening to the muffled sounds of a fight.

I look up at him, wrapping my arms around his waist. “So, um, I think we won your case.”

His eyes widen. “Yeah.” He rubs a sore spot on my head. “At what cost?”

“An ice pack?” I say, and he laughs, a pained expression still on his face as he pats my head, then face, where I feel the raw skin of a scratch.

If this doesn’t prove to Theo I’m sorry, I don’t know what will.

CHAPTER 23

A week after the trial and break, everything at school falls into a pattern again. Classes are up and running, no gift of the holidays to lighten the workload. Some students are still away visiting family, so there are a few absences, and blessedly, with their suspension, I haven’t had to deal with Rachel or Chloe—only to put ointment on the side of my face still healing from Rachel’s attack.

My first physical battle scar from a case.

When the final bell rings and I’m getting ready by my locker, Lexie appears and says, “Stay still.”

Confused at the urgency of her voice and sudden appearance, I do. She pulls out her concealer and places a dot under my eyes.

“Lexie, what the heck?”

“I said stay still,” she says, reaching over. “Let me blend it; you look like a dummy.”

“We’re not even the same complexion.”

“Better than nothing,” she says, and because I don’t want to look like a dummy, I let her finish. She sprays something vanilla and warm over me and starts fussing with my hair.

“What is happening?” I demand.

“We all know you’re pretty,” she says, “but would it kill you to experiment a little? Pink blush? Come on; you know I told you warm tones suit you better.”

“I’m going to kick you.”

“We have plans,” she says, taking my things and shoving them into the locker. She removes my blazer, then starts unbuttoning my white shirt.

She gets three buttons down before I ask, “Is this necessary?”

“Yes.” She adjusts the shirt around my chest in a more flattering way. “Nice.”

“Watch your shin.”

She jumps back. “Don’t be a Netherland.”

“Neanderthal,” I correct.

“Whatever.” She links her arm through mine and leads me down the hall.

“Where are we going?” I ask when we turn the corner.

“A surprise.” Her lips curl up into a smile.