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“Now, Tinsley,” Crispin went on calmly. “Will you listen and be a good girl? I’m not asking for much here. Just your complete obedience.”
In the split second it took me to answer, two options flashed before me: saying no, and being ridiculed, the eternal outcast. Mocked, singled out, alone. Or saying yes to him but betraying myself, and worst of all, the people involved in the scandal that made Crispin hate me, to begin with.
“No,” I got out through gritted teeth.
“Are you fucking sure, kid? I can protect you. Just work with me on this.”
“Fuck you for thinking I can’t protect myself,” I hissed back.
“Your funeral,” Crispin grunted, pulling on my braid, hard.
I went tumbling down.
The class went quiet before students started to snicker and outright laugh. Professor Mulroney came to stand by me, and I stared up at him, half-expecting him to stick up for me. But there was nothing in his eyes but pity. Should’ve seen that one coming.
Just then, the school bell sounded.
“Well, well, well,” Mulroney muttered. “Saved by the bell, Miss Sullivan. Class dismissed.”
I practically ran out of there, not even making sure I’d grabbed everything before stuffing it all in my bag and walking into the black Italian marble bathroom on the ground floor. I placed my shaky hands on the elaborate sink, staring at my reflection in the mirror. My face was ghostly pale, my bottom lip jutting out. My hair had come undone from Crispin’s harsh pull. I unbraided it, letting the lilac tresses fall down my back in messy, wavy tendrils. My blue eyes stared back as empty as I felt. I couldn’t bear to see myself anymore, so I forced myself to pull away from the sink. Fuck my life. I heard approaching voices. Locking myself in one of the toilets, I listened to the melodic sound of someone’s laughter.
“Did you see how she fell?” A girl snickered.
“Serves her right,” another voice answered. “You read the articles, right?”
I stiffened, pulling my feet up onto the toilet so they wouldn’t know I was there.
“Yeah,” the first girl sighed. “Poor Crispin. That girl is bad news.”
“He should’ve done something worse to her,” the other girl agreed. “Like cut that braid off. He’d be doing her a favor, anyway. I mean, lilac hair? Really? What is this, 2009 at Coachella?”
“She’s a loser,” the first voice answered, and they both laughed. “Plain and simple, and Crispin totally knows it. Everybody knows it. She probably does, too.”
I forced myself to bite back tears, waiting until they left the bathroom to exit. My face was red and blotchy, but I only had five minutes until the next class, and I couldn’t afford to be late, again.
Pushing open the door, I walked into the hallway, feeling every pair of eyes in the long space on me. I kept my head down, briskly walking toward the next class, when he called out to me.
“Hey, crybaby!”
The hallway was so quiet I could have heard a feather float. I tried to keep moving when he appeared in front of me.
“I was talking to you, Devin Mooney.”
I looked up into Crispin’s stupid storm-grey eyes, hating every second of our interaction.
Ugh, he was ridiculously handsome. How was this fair to the rest of us mortals? And why did he keep picking on me?
“Don’t call me that,” I muttered. “In fact, don’t call me fucking anything.”
“Crybaby?” He laughed. “I think I will, actually. Suits you, since you’re already crying on your first goddamn day. Which, let me remind you, could have been prevented.”
“Stay away from me, Crispin. I don’t need you.”
“Oh, poor little rich girl,” he smirked. “I think you and that mother of yours are the ones who need to stay the fuck away. I’m just giving you the option to make your life here better than the fucking nightmare you’re in store for if you don’t do as I say.”
“The option?” I laughed out loud bitterly. “And what might I have to do to make you take pity on me?”
He came closer, his presence intimidating and his gaze intense. “Do everything I say.” His tone softened. “Follow my every command. Be a good girl, and I’ll reward you accordingly.”
