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There were more tags on the car, more heartless works of art, but I didn’t bother to read them.
Something in me broke. I felt the pang in my chest, like a knife through my heart.
It shouldn’t matter. It was just a car. But it had been the last real, untouched thing from my old life—my normal life—and now it was barely fit to serve as scrap in a junkyard. A lump in my throat choked me, tears threatening to well over.
I didn’t let them.
Clenching my hands so hard my nails cut into my palms, I gritted my teeth and blinked hard a few times. People were watching me, laughing and shouting, filming my reaction and my car on their phones.
I’d only been going to this school for two days, but I already knew one thing with absolute certainty: I couldn’t afford to look weak in front of the students at Slateview. It would make everything I was already going through so much worse, would make them see that they could get to me, that their cruelty affected me. And I couldn’t let that happen. Next time, it might not be my car that got trashed. It could be me.
Let them have the car. Just let them have the damn thing. We can get a new one… someday.
At least, that’s what I told myself. It was what I clung to as I turned and walked stiffly along the sidewalk leading from the school into the neighborhood, clutching my books in my arms.
The school buses had already left, and even if they hadn’t, I didn’t have a bus pass since I was supposed to be a driver. I wondered, somewhat bitterly, if I should just get used to walking. I couldn’t imagine having to spend any amount of time on a bus with people that were willing to vandalize my car in broad daylight, let alone knowing that it would give more people a direct confirmation of where I lived.
Holy shit. I’m starting to sound so paranoid. It’s ridiculous.
Regardless, I kept my head down as I walked, intent on avoiding contact with anyone from the school. I pushed through some loitering crowds of kids here and there at the edge of school grounds, but blissfully, thankfully, they didn’t bother me, too wrapped up in their own overtly jovial entertainment to care that I was even there.
Mom and I lived several miles away from Slateview. It was a quick drive in the morning, but it would take me at least an hour to walk home now.
A few kids yelled out the windows of their cars as they drove away from school, but once I’d walked for about thirty minutes, the streets grew mostly empty and quiet. It was a hot fall day, and humidity made tendrils of my blonde hair stick to the back of my neck. A drop of sweat tickled my back as it dripped down my spine.
I’d made it to the street our rental house was on when the back of my neck prickled for a new reason. My footsteps slowed, and my heart beat faster as I turned my head just slightly, unable to ignore the sudden uncomfortable feeling that I was being followed.
I was.
From the corner of my eye, I saw a car creep up alongside me. A beat-up convertible, just a little nicer than the cars that I was used to seeing, but not by much. My stomach dropped when I saw who was inside.
The Lost Boys.
I kept my face trained straight ahead, hugging my books close to my chest. If they thought I hadn’t noticed them, maybe they’d leave me alone, thinking I just wasn’t interested or particularly aware of them enough to care—
“Hey. You ignoring us, Princess?”
I took in a deep breath and turned to face them. Bishop was behind the wheel, Misael in the passenger seat, and Kace in the back. Misael typed away on his phone, looking up to me with a raised brow and a smirk when our eyes met. I pulled my gaze from him and shifted it to Bishop before continuing my walk.
“I’m just going home,” I said flatly. “So if you’ll excuse me—”
“What’s with that get up?” Misael spoke up, jerking his chin toward my shredded clothes. “You look like you’re trying to be somethin’ you ain’t, Princess.”
“Stop calling me princess.”
“Ain’t that what you are? A princess?”
“No. It’s not.”
The trio laughed, amused at my indignation.
“Ain’t what we hear, but that’s fine. Can’t hide what you are, anyway. You don’t blend in well.”
“Is there a reason you’re telling me all this? A reason you’re even talking to me?” I threw an annoyed look back at the car, faltering at the intensity of Kace’s stare. I swallowed.
“You think you should be strollin’ around on your own?” he asked. “Uptown girl like you… You don’t really know the lay of the land around here yet.”
I scoffed.
